#i will now go look at yours and be nosy MWAH

[cooali]

🎶✨ when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool) 🎶✨

AHHH thankyou jo <33333 i love too many songs so ill just shuffle my fave playlist real quick (also i just added stupid commentary bc i didnt sleep so i cant shut up)

francesca - hozier: seriously one of the prettiest songs ever made, the sentence 'heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i' ALREADY SPEAKS FOR ITSELF. but ugh, the YEARNING!!! im an hozier stan as we know so no surprise

4eva - shygirl & empress of: I LOVE SHYGIRL SMMM, im dutch so i have like club/house music in my blood and she just hits all the good spots. plus i love the lil feature from empress of in spanish brr it HITS

tetris - froukje: ehm yea so i had a pretty bad tetris depression phase, and she just made a song about EXACTLY THAT lmao plus adding the tetris music into the song??? no words.

como un bebé - j balvin & bad bunny: one of my fave albums i wish i was kidding hsdjkshkj this song wil probably be in my top5 songs this year hm. if i ever need to get up and do shit i just put this song on and have instant motivation (and do my chores dancing)

HEAT - tove lo & sg lewis: same as 4eva, ITS IN MY BLOOD. whenever tove and sg work together i know its going to fuck, and it does. an ode to queer club music do i need to say more???

mostly pop dance bangers with a sprinkle of poetry by mr andrew, yea good tiana representation. (i didnt add my the weeknd obsession bc im ashamed but he is my most listened to artist by far shhhh) (sorry for making this this long oops)

[merakiui]

bestie!vil who casually fixes your boobs in your bra for you, no he did not just tweak your nipple, do you think he's one of those desperate dogs you spend so much time with? He also calls you out on your posture and says it comes from the pelvis, he knows a few massages and stretches if you're interested. You want to try on his lipstick shade? Well, he doesn't want to contaminate the entire tube so...mwah! What? It's not like it meant anything, you're best friends after all.

One of the girls!Cater who walks around in his boxer-briefs during a sleepover or before bed. When you wake up he's always cuddled up to your back, morning wood grinding into you but he needs his cuddles, dont neglect him! Also he saw the prettiest thongs at VS, and since a few of yours went missing, you should totes go buy some new ones. Cater thinks you're soooo cute first thing in the morning, too sleepy and tired to realize that he slid his underwear down and has been leaking all over the back of your tanktop the entire time :(

-👠 anon (i think tumblrs been eating my asks D:)

OTL sitting in best friend Vil's lap while he does your makeup... there's nothing to it! Just two besties giving each other makeovers. If you feel something prodding at your ass every time you shift on his lap, pay it no mind. And if Vil grabs your hips and forces you still, don't worry about that either. If you keep moving so much, he'll mess up your eyeliner! You don't want that, do you?

AND CAY-CAY WITH MORNING WOOD AAAAAAAA. It's still so early and you're much too sleepy to realize his dick is between your thighs and he's been slowly and carefully rutting into you every now and then. Quite literally fucks you back to sleep. <3 just let your bestie cuddle with you a little longer. It's so warm and cozy, and he's massaging your hip so sweetly. You doze off within seconds, leaving Cater with enough time to reach his climax and clean you up before you're waking another hour later.

Being besties with Idia and the two of you watch hentai together and rank the ahegao of every character. >:D the tier list is coming along nicely. You're lying on your stomach on his bed while he's gaming, and it hasn't yet occurred to Idia that this entire time he's been hanging out weekly with a girl. But then he starts thinking deeply about it and suddenly his mind is racing with thoughts. orz

Besties with Ace and Deuce, who have slept over so many times that at this point Ramshackle is like a second home to them. They know where you keep everything. Where all of the snacks are hidden from Grim. Which drawers hold your clothes and, most importantly, undergarments. Ace is probably so sneaky and nosy that he goes so far as trying to sniff out if you've got any sex toys hidden somewhere. Deuce is curious, but he has to be nice and respectful of your space like a good best friend. He's only following Ace to make sure he doesn't do anything weird while you're washing up in the bathroom. It's not so he can also learn the location of these toys and compare his size to the size of the dildos. T_T

Being besties with Azul and he's managed to become so comfortable around you that he allows you to relax in the pool with him while he's busy multitasking with all eight of his tentacles. You're happily swimming laps and trying (and failing) to get him to take a break and join you. He keeps you at a distance with one tentacle, pushing you away and claiming, "Not now. This is very important and requires all of my focus." You pout and whine. Maybe he entertains you with that same tentacle, playfully poking and prodding at you while his eyes remain glued to the (magically waterproof) contract he's reviewing. He knows exactly what he's doing when he "accidentally" manhandles you with his tentacle, so much so that your swimsuit top comes untied. Oh dear. Would you look at that? It's come off. <3

[cyberluvzu]

Hi! Could you do some head canons for dating x-virus?

X-VIRUS DATING HEADCANONS

X-virus x reader

OMGOMGOMG LITERALLY LOVE THIS SM. More Cody content is VERY needed, I think he's really interesting. TYSMMM FOR THE REQUEST AND ALL THE SUPPORT, MWAH MWAH MWAHHHHHH ILY :3!!!!

- Likes to keep you around when he's working in the lab

- Calls you his "little assistant"

- Might give you a little job here and there, never something too dangerous

- Washing lab equipment, measuring different things, stuff like that

- Definitely has a gas mask just for you

- Just likes to keep you with him

- Especially if he's working long hours

- You can be quiet, talk, or do whatever. He's just happy you're there with him

- Absolutely collapses into bed with you after

- Honestly I feel like he'd do that no matter what

- He works hard, ends up burning himself out and just wants to sleep in your arms

- He would definitely get you little gifts

- Would get you a stuffed animal to keep you company when he's busy

- One of his main love languages is gift giving

- Also quality time with you

-He would show you cool science tricks

- If you aren't already interested in science, Cody will make sure you are now

- Tells you little science facts every now and then just to info dump

- If you have an interest that somehow has a science aspect to it, Cody is ON IT

- Learns everything about that subject just to tell you and see your reaction

- Like a certain type of bug or animal?

- Here's a billion science facts about it

- He also likes to listen you rant about your interests while he works

- It's like white nosie to him, your voice calms him

- But when he really needs to focus he will ask you to shut up 😭

- Or asks you to help him with some other task to keep you busy

- He also really likes to just be in your general vicinity

- Just being in the same room as you for a while is enough for Cody

- He also gets paranoid about you getting sick

- Mega germaphobe

- He'll make you wash your hands 24/7

- He just doesn't wanna see you get sick

- Also doesn't wanna get sick himself, but it's mostly to keep you healthy

- Likes to watch you sometimes

- Mentally takes notes of little things you do

- He thinks it's cute that you have your little quirks

- Pretty observant

- Really likes learning about you

- He's just curious about everything you do

- Smiles when he thinks back to the little habits you have, the way you smile, laugh, look, your touch, literally anything about you and he's smiling

- His mind drifts off to you while he works, but then quickly gets focused back on work

- He has a hard time expressing how he feels so he'll show it to you in his own little way

- Running his hand through your hair, asking you to keep him company, including you on little experiments

- Doesn't wanna cross any boundaries you might have, but is also too scared to ask you about anything

- He just waits it out until you try things with him

- He just awkwardly pauses if he wants to do something to you, debating on doing it

- He's a little (a lot) awkward

- Not in like the "omg I'm so awkward guys" way

- More in the "I'm gonna stay in this corner the whole party" awkward (real)

- You get him to open up a little and he's all yours

- He likes who he likes, and keeps a small circle of people

- Doesn't like going out on dates where there's a lot of people

- More of a picnic in the park kind of guy

- Library dates, museums, slender forest, places like that

- Doesn't wanna worry about other people interrupting

- He just wants to be with you, his little lab assistant

- Sometimes he can be a little neglectful to you if he's really focused on work

-If you tell him that you feel ignored, he'll snap out of it and pay more attention to you

- Or if you don't tell him, one day he'll be like "Hm, I haven't really seen them in a while"

- And then it hits him like a freight train

- He feels bad about it, tries to finish his work ASAP to go check on you

- Doesn't address it directly if he's the one who notices it first

- Just gives you more attention, tries to remember to check up on you, and take breaks

- He's given you full permission to remind him to take breaks

- Likes hearing it from you, makes him feel better for some reason

- After the first time he forgot to pay attention to you, when you first started dating, he started to include you more in his lab experiments and keep you with him more

- He just gets really into in his work

- You'd probably have to remind him to eat and drink

------------------------------------------

YOU'VE AWOKEN MY CODY OBSESSION AGAIN. I love him sm and more content of him is NEEDED. X-virus fans are BEING STARVED. 😭

[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

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[rinsuniverse]

"i can't stop kissing you" prank on woozi ✧˖°.

this was requested by @sofix-hc7 !!!

this is a rly cute idea & i would love doing this on my future s/o or having them prank me with this (when will i ever get to live my DREAM)

but anyways, imagine you're at your house!

because always being in his studio for these imagines is so repetitive and i'm scared you all are getting bored of it :")

but he's sitting at your desk with his laptop

he's working on something

you're not quite sure what it is? because there's no use being nosy about it

if you ask, he'll just say "oh, don't worry about it"

but you were in bed, scrolling on your socials

when you saw a reel/tiktok of someone pulling a prank on their partner where they "cannot stop kissing" them!

and you can't help the small mischievous smile that grows on your face

you get out of bed and walk over to where he's seated

and you wrap your arms loosely around his neck

and you start giving him kisses on his cheeks and temples

and he chuckles for a moment

"what is this for?"

but you don't even stop to respond!

you just keep kissing him, all over his face

and his hands naturally move from the laptop to loosely hold your arms in their place as you continue to kiss him

"y/n! what's going on???"

"i just- mwah- can't stop- mwah- kissing you," you say between kisses

he cringes jokingly, letting it happen

he turns in his chair so you can face each other, moving his hands to lightly place themselves on your hips

and he holds you there until you're out of breath

when you start laughing at his pink face (bonus points if you were wearing lipstick and there's a bunch of marks on his cheeks)

he pulls you closer

and you hide your face in the crook of his neck as you continue laughing

maybe because you're embarrassed?

and he starts slowly chuckling, in utter disbelief

"are you good now?" he asks, rubbing your back

"no, i just needed a break," you say, before going back to kissing him

he puts his hands firmly on your arms and pushes you away so you can look at him

you can't fight how strong he is, i'm so sorry

he's smiling at you softly

it's your choice if you wanna pout there as he holds you

or you can mischievously smile at him

or look at him surprised

but whatever you do, he pulls you closer to him and kisses you softly on the lips before pulling away

"can i go back to what i was doing now?"

"hmmm..."

he waits for your response, tilting his head as he looks at you

you grab your phone to take a picture of his rosy cheeks (maybe with lipstick stains on them!)

and then you smile victoriously

"go ahead"

and he turns to go back to his work

not before giving you one last kiss on your nose so you can "leave him alone"

if you had lipstick on, he'll notice when he's taking a bathroom break

and just look at himself in the mirror in disbelief

"y/n"

"hm?"

"my face"

"what about it?"

"look what you did"

you hold in a laugh.

"looks good"

he scoffs at you before trying to wash it off with water

but it smudges everywhere!

"come here and fix this, you devil."

"okay, i'm coming," you say, grabbing some makeup wipes and wiping it off

when his face is all clean, you'll give him one last kiss on the lips, then wipe it off there as well

he won't say it, but he loves you so much

having you close and having you pepper a bunch of kisses on his face

especially if you both are in the privateness of your room

he won't mention it to anyone

and he makes sure you don't share that picture you took to anyone

but it's definitely a cute memory he keeps of you

and maybe he even writes about!

he's definitely the type to be like "only because it's you," he'll let you do anything <3

thank you so much for the request! feel free to request many, many more things through either my inbox or my asks! this was really cute to write about, so thank you for the idea.

✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! i can also do some nsfw if you want! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

[love-anddeepression]

i was inspired by @allysunny 's fic where miguel watches snow white and i loved it so much its literally so wholesome. GO READ IT.

and after that i watched a lotr fanart reel with the evenstar theme and i began to wonder how mig would like Lord of the Rings. cuz he has to if the relationship is going to work im sorry-

So here's the product of my labour lmfao im doing the first movie only because this would be way too long if it was all three

MIGUEL WATCHES LOTR(extended edition ofc)

-I feel like he'd come across you either looking at fanart or edits of the characters and be intrigued.

-"what's that, tesoro?" nosy mf he'd smush onto your shoulder from behind, your hair ticking his nose lightly.

"it's lord of the rings, babe. how have you-"

and you realise mans is from 2099 how tf is he going to know what lord of the rings is.

and thats how you end up sitting in front of the tv at 8am in the morning with tea and breakfast and the shire theme playing from the tv.

-"They're dwarves?" Miguel asks when he sees Frodo next to Gandalf

"No, they're Hobbits."

"But Hobbits are basically dwarves?"

"Nope, different race, honey." you kiss his cheek as his eyes squint in confusion.

=Merry and Pip remind him of ahem certain spider people

-He gasps when Bilbo disappears and is like wtf when he sees him reappear and have a meltdown over the ring.

-He gasps AGAIN when you tell him that gandalf actually left frodo in the shire for 17 years and not like a few hours or days

-gets annoyed at merry and pippin AGAIN

-fucking loves samwise but thinks he needs a bit more spine(give him a chance wait till the end of the series)

-he will raise an eyebrow at you trying to stop your squeal when looking at the first glimpse of this strider and his pipe.

-i feel like the nazgul would freak him out(just a little but its the horses)

-THE HORSES i feel like he wont give af honestly about them because he can co exist with widow on the team but since he has the phobia he wouldnt fawn over them(not me pssh i love the pretty horsies)

-absolutely thinks frodo is going to die when hes stabbed by the nazgul

-his eyes widen when arwen our queen rides in and you squeal again

-he admires arwen and her abilities, that scene with the river and the nazgul makes his jawdrop.

-"tesoro i like this movie." "slut" "im YOUR slut" *mwah*

-he loves the rivendell and the set design is honestly breathtaking he gets so into it

-arwen and aragorn are adorable and he holds you tighter when the flashback scene between them is shown

-you clap when you see legolas ride in and he sideeyes you yet AGAIN

-sees the appeal tbh

-he loves that you're so passionate about something and want to share it with him and he sees it as an honour that you're willing to do this, spend an entire day watching a movie series with him its baffling to him

-you on the other hand get worried that he finds it boring but then when he gets into it youre ecstatic that he likes it too and you both can enjoy something thats so close to your heart.

-it can be hard to relate to someone who's so different from you, like mans is spiderman, a geneticist, leads an elite strike dedicated to the multiverse-

-but you both gel in a lot of ways (which is why dude loves you and would die for you and kill for you either way what bliss)despite leading such different lives and now there's one more thing you can bond over and it fills you with happiness and you have to snuggle into him and he holds you tighter in response, smooching the top of your head

-absolutely despises boromir at first(it changes)

-thinks elrond is bossy asf(look whos talking babe)

-he gets worked up when boromir starts coveting the ring and is like he should die

-sniffs when the man actually dies in such a heroic way

-i think he has to cover his mouth when aragorn finds boromir and kisses his forehead because its such an emotional scene and this man has gone through such loss and probably similar things in his own battlefield except he wishes he could have given his teammates better goodbyes.

-when the movie ends yk the way it does he immediately puts on the next one.

-"babe wait i have to pee!" "pee fast then and come back!" *pats your ass as you walk past him and you try to swat him because that doesnt help after holding in your pee for like 3 damn hours

-he really likes it and he loved experiencing it with you, listening to your commentary sometimes, rolling his eyes lovingly when you grin at aragorn or legolas or sam or arwen, but he loved it even more because it was a piece of you that was bared to him and he accepted it and loved it too because it was YOU

-and because its a legendary piece of art.

[teddybeartoji]

mickey baby i hope you're doing so so well!! i'm here to be nosy in your inbox don't mind me!!!

what is miwa's favourite summer activity to do!! what are you and the silliest boy of all time (affectionate) getting up to!!

do you have any pinterest pins of how you imagine mihime to be like? i'm such a sucker for a princess/knight combo and i love the dynamic you've written in your selfship stat post

what is miromi's first date like? i'm giggling a little at the image of the two of you in the grocery store cleaning up your messes

sending allllll the kissies mwah mwah mwah

HII AGAINNN:3333333333 I NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT THESE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN DRIVING ME WILDDDDD LIKE OH MY GODDDD I LOVE THEM ALL SO FUCKING MUCH<33333333333

MIWA SUMMER ACTIVITIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my god he loooves loves loves going to the beach!!!!!!!!!! i try not to complain over it being so fucking warm just bc i know he'll tease me for it lmao he'll wiggle his eyebrows at me and wink while flexing his biceps bc he thinks the mere idea of him being all sweaty and glorious in the sun is enough to join him every single time he wants to go (he is right) i think it's also very important to mention that he does a "slow motion" run every time we're there😭😭😭 baywatch style... (iwaizumi will throw a ball at his head)

oh and yes the other boys are always there too lmao i don't mind it though they're all so funny we get to bully oiks together:333333 during the car ride i'm always sandwiched between him and mattsun.. and oh my god they both take up so much space it's fucking ridiculous i'm just elbowing them for the entirety of the ride lmao ++ we actually go on little roadtrips all together a lot as well!!!!!!!

ANYWAY back on the beach they OBVIOUSLY play volleyball lmao ok so in the post i did say that the au would be where i play volleyball too buuuut in the original one i'm just some guy WHich means that oikawa gets to teach me . sighhhhhhh...... stands behind me and hold my hand together as he shows me how to receive a ball omfg he is very annoying (very hot) whispers into my ear and tries to play cool but if he's taking too long he's gonna be hit by another rogue ball hahsgdhgsahgdahgdhga he's actually such a fucking dork ro i love him so much

but yeah we hang out on the beach like a looot a lot we play ball and we go swimming. oh which reminds me that he's definitely a bit scared of cold water lmao so i have to drag him in every single time aaand i get to tease him too by splashing him mwahahahaha AAAND then we always go and buy smth good to eat after we're all done aand we both usually end up falling asleep on the car ride back home,, with my head on his shoulder and his head on mine it's pretty cute yes we do actually have a few pics like that too bc the other boys are sometimes okay with us being adorable:3333333333333333333

MIHIME ROYALTY AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i think i will make a proper moodboard for us too now actually bc ooh my godddd i know the second row middle one isn't necessarily a knight/princess thing but it's so perfect for the bratty lil royalty that is my utahime🤭🤭🤭 BUT WAHHHH i love her so dearly she's a little clumsy and gets flustered so easily but still tries to act so tough it's sooooo fucking cute ohhh my goddddd

MIROMI FIRST DATE!!!!!!!!!!!! asghdhgdhgasghdghas the meet-ugly is so funny i love it,, after many times of bumping into each other he's the one to finally ask for my number!!!!!!!!! i think he's the type to blurt things out sometimes not in a bad way but he just want to get it out, he hates it when he starts to overthink anything even a little so he just goes for it. and that's exactly what happened here too. he was still in his suit, buying groceries for the night straight after work while i was there buying ramen lmao and so first we just saw each other in an isle and we made eye-contact and then looked away bc well . look the whole thing is a bit comedic at this point lmao

we somewhat try to avoid each other just for the sake of not making any more messes but in doing so we fail to check behind us and so we end up backing into each other anyway😭😭😭 and that's when he's just like fuck it . so he just apologizes while loosening his tie (😵‍💫) and is like "would you like to go and grab dinner with me?" and he catches me so off guard but he doesn't take it back either and he's so like . HOT? hsdahgghadghasga he's funny and handsome at the same time it takes me a second to really realize what he's asking of me but then i agree anyway bc why the fuck not yk? aaaaand so our first date takes place at like 9pm at some random fast food place where we stuff our faces with some noodles while getting to know each other. the connection is really good btw. like there isn't a single moment where it's awkward or anything we're constantly talking and laughing and we keep on sitting there even after we're done eating too. it feels very comfortable<3333 he compliments my smile and i tease him for being a lawyer lmao telling him that he's very Fancy but he obviously doesn't take it into heart and he just offers to show me his office some day to kind of prove me wrong hehehhee we exchange numbers and we keep in touch by sending each other pics of our cats and yeah it goes veeery very smoothly from there on out!!!!!

AANYWAYYYYY I LOOOOOVE THEM SOOO FUCKING MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! we're all silly together hehehhee oikawa my loserboyfriend and utahime my princess and hiromi my normal guy hgasghdghasghdahs WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN RO TALKING ABT THEM MADE ME SOOO SO FUCKING HAPPY!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!! IN FIVE MINUTES THE SUN WILL BE DELIVERED TO YOU SO PLEASE LMK WHEN IT ARRIVES:3333333333333

[honeypiehotchner]

you look stupid (Gibbs x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Uhm…hi :) I’ve been watching NCIS a lot lately and Gibbs does something to me soooooo here’s this. Purely for my own entertainment, but I thought I’d share. ALSO! I don’t think it’ll be a series like a novel with a plot, but I might be doing a series of one shots with these two. Because this was SO fun to write (also it’s like 4.2k words mwah)

Warnings: bickering like a damn married couple, SMUT!, fingering, orgasm denial, semi-public, just in general Gibbs being sexy

Prompt: that one tumblr post that goes “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid”

In all the years Ducky has worked with Gibbs, he has never known someone to piss Gibbs off as much as you do.

In all the years that you have been in the workforce, you’ve never had a boss that pisses you off as much as Gibbs does.

It’s a delicate balance, you think. He calls you a pain in his ass; you call him a bastard. You can’t think of one day where the two of you didn’t scream at each other until you got it out of your systems.

You still remember the first day McGee walked in on you fighting with Gibbs. Tony was at his desk, stuffing his face, per usual, completely oblivious to the empty paper coffee cups you were throwing at Gibbs’s head.

“Your aim is shit, L/N!” Gibbs yelled after he easily dodged the last one.

“Bite me!” You threw a pen at his head that time. It hit his forehead (sideways, thankfully) and bounced onto his desk.

McGee was frozen. He thought, any second, Gibbs was going to pull a gun on you and shoot you dead in the middle of NCIS.

But instead, Gibbs grinned. “Now that was a good shot.”

You gave him the middle finger in response.

McGee looked at Tony, and Tony only shook his head. “You have to let ‘em get it out,” Tony said.

“Where’s my list, Tony?” Gibbs called from his desk, clearly unamused that Tony thought he had downtime while the two of you argued.

Tony dropped the magazine quickly. “Coming, boss.”

“McGee,” Gibbs stared. “Do you want an invitation to your desk?”

“No,” McGee said quickly. “No, boss.” He scampers off to his seat.

“I have something,” you mutter.

“Do you now?” Gibbs turned toward you. “What is it?”

“You need a haircut,” you muttered, snatching a file off your desk. You nearly threw it at Gibbs, saying, “I’m getting lunch.”

McGee doesn’t remember when he was more shocked. Before you left with the arguing, or after you returned from lunch with a coffee and a cookie — for Gibbs.

+++

Ever since you started at NCIS, that is how it has been.

You don’t know when the switch flipped, all you know is that now, arguing with Gibbs doesn’t ‘blow off steam’ like it used to. You don’t feel better after it, and it doesn’t feel like an inside joke anymore. It feels real.

And that bothers you.

It bothers you especially because the heat is all coming from him. You noticed it when he threatened to fire you two days ago. Despite all the arguments, he’s never done that. Not once. Not to you.

But he seemed serious when he said it. So serious that you backed off immediately, genuinely worried for your job’s safety.

After a few days, though, it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Abby, I don’t know what it is,” you sigh. “But I’m ready to rip his head off. For real this time.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t be,” Abby shrugs. “Gibbs pisses me off sometimes, too.”

“This is different, though,” you murmur. “I can tell. It’s like he’s seriously mad at me, but I— I don’t know why.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“No, if I do that then I’ll get some Marine lecture about insecurity and honestly, I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“Yeah,” Abby frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” Gibbs announces himself in his usual way: by being nosy.

“That Y/N has to…” Abby looks at you for help.

“That I have a date tonight,” you cover. “A blind one. Friend set me up. They’re never fun. You know how it is.”

Gibbs’s expression is unreadable, even to you, and that’s troublesome.

“You’re talking about blind dates,” he says, taking a step closer to you, “when we have a dead Marine?”

“He’s not gonna get any deader,” you shrug. And you were helping Abby with some of the evidence while Tony and McGee were out interviewing.

Gibbs takes another step. “You think this is funny?” And another. His nose might as well be touching yours now.

“I think,” you pause, rummaging through your jacket pocket for a moment before you find what you’re looking for. “You need a mint.” In one swift motion, you’re popping a breath mint into Gibbs’s mouth, patting him on the cheek once its in. “Better.”

Instead of spitting it back out at you, like you expected him to do, he tongues it over to his cheek. “Are you done?”

“Depends,” you say. “How long are you going to stand there until you remember this tactic doesn’t work on me?”

It’s a joke, truly. You had told him once that the last time a man got that close to your face, he kissed you. You had this shit-eating grin on your face when you told him, too. Gibbs took it as a note to never get in your face the way he does with Tony and McGee.

Except today, apparently.

Reluctantly, though, Gibbs concedes, and steps away from you.

“I’ll be at my desk,” you smirk, walking past him. “Bye Abby.” She waves to you with a smile that turns into a frown when Gibbs scoffs.

“That’s where you should be anyway,” Gibbs calls out.

You throw him two middle fingers before you disappear.

Once you’re gone, Gibbs turns to Abby. “What have you got, Abs?”

Abby grins, staring at him with two raised eyebrows, tapping her toe against the floor.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I just don’t think green is your color, Gibbs.”

He knows exactly what she’s getting at, but he doesn’t reply.

+++

This continues for another week, and it gets worse.

Gibbs puts you with Tony every chance he can get, even though he knows the work takes twice as long when the two of you are paired. He makes you stay at the office with Abby while everyone else goes out. You’re barely around Gibbs for more than three minutes before he’s making some excuse to go somewhere else, to talk to some random person — clearly to be anywhere except beside you.

It’s exhausting, at this point. You’re ready to give up.

You have, honestly. You’ve stopped trying to talk to him. You stopped wishing him a good morning or night a few days ago. You’ve even stopped telling him when you’re going to get lunch, so when you disappear, he has to ask McGee or Tony where you went.

Every single time, McGee and Tony share looks before saying, “Lunch, boss.”

Gibbs doesn’t know why, but every single time he realizes you’ve left without saying anything, it hurts. 

You don’t even bring him coffee anymore.

“Tony, McGee, I want you both to go talk to our Marine’s parents,” Gibbs orders. “They had something to do with his disappearance, even if they don’t want to admit it. One of you, talk to them. The other, start snooping.”

You’re sitting at your desk, quietly mulling over the Marine’s file, and waiting for Gibbs to bark some order at you. Or, if he’s keeping up his act, he won’t speak one word to you since he’s already given you one order for the afternoon — and you’ve yet to complete it.

You almost want to make a bet with yourself about which it’ll be.

“Do you want coffee?”

You keep reading, not even sure if the question is directed at you.

“L/N,” Gibbs says. “I asked if you wanted coffee.”

Looking up from the file, you shake your head. “No thanks.” And you go back to the Marine’s background.

Gibbs sighs. You’re like him: you never turn down coffee.

You hear his chair squeak as he gets up, his footsteps against the carpet as he walks toward your desk. And then the file is plucked from your hands.

“Gibbs,” you mutter. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Don’t care,” he replies, closing the folder and tossing it on his desk. “Up. We’re getting coffee.”

“I said no thank you.”

“And I said, get up.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your anger that is already boiling. “No.”

Gibbs tries to control his face. “Agent L/N, if I have to drag you into that elevator, I will. It was not a suggestion. It was an order. Up.”

With a huff, you stand, walking around your desk and past Gibbs, knocking your shoulder against his on the way.

He’s ready to throttle you just for that, but he doesn’t.

You wait by the elevator with crossed arms. He presses the down arrow and waits, silently.

The doors open and you step inside first, grinding your teeth to keep from yelling at him. He steps in after you. A few seconds after the doors close and the elevator starts moving, he flips the emergency switch.

“Here we fucking go,” you roll your eyes, not caring about being polite anymore since he clearly isn’t going to either.

“Do you have a problem, L/N?”

“Do you, sir?”

Gibbs pauses. You only use ‘sir’ when you’re beyond pissed at him. You’ve only used it once before.

“I have a problem with your tone,” he says evenly. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” You turn your body to face him. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week, you’ll barely look at me, and you leave the room every time I walk in. What the fuck is wrong with you, Gibbs?”

“I’m your boss, Y/N, I’m not supposed to be your friend.”

“But you are!” you yell. “You are and it sucks because right now I just want my best friend back! But he seems to have his head shoved too far up his ass to even give a damn.”

“And mine has been acting like something crawled up her ass and died for as long as I can remember!”

“Because you piss me off!”

“I’m a bastard! What else do you expect from me?”

“To man up and stop acting like you don’t want to kiss me!”

Gibbs scoffs, looking away from you. “Oh, please.”

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid, Gibbs,” you say with no remorse. Because it’s true. And it’s about time he owns up to it.

“Do I?” He steps closer to you, backing you into the railing of the elevator.

“I think you do,” you reply, tilting your head back to meet his eyes, and to put your lips even closer to his than they were. One more step and he’d be all but kissing you.

“I think you’re forgetting Rule 12.”

“Rule 12 is the most bullshit rule you have,” you mutter. “Especially when you’re one inch away from fucking me right now.”

“You have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

“Try me.”

He thinks about it for a moment, smirks, then steps away from you.

You scoff. “Just as I expected.”

Gibbs flips the emergency switch with a laugh. “And what did you expect, L/N?”

“That you wouldn’t be man enough to do something about it,” you shrug. “Looks like I’ll agree to that blind date I have tonight. He might be nice. Maybe better than the last one. I could invite him back to my place—”

Before you have a chance to even think about continuing, Gibbs has flipped the emergency switch and slammed you against the wall of the elevator, both hands on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

You smirk. “Problem, boss?”

“You have such a smart mouth you should consider yourself lucky that we have a missing Marine. Because if we didn’t have a job to do, Agent L/N, I’d fuck you right here in this elevator so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk out of it.”

Your eyes almost glow with lust. “Is that a promise?”

He stares you down, not blinking or moving.

Rolling your eyes, you finally take matters into your own hands and push your face forward, connecting your lips.

Gibbs is stunned for a moment, feeling your lips against his, and then he’s ravenous. You’ve pissed him off beyond belief, and he’s going to make you pay for it. Quickly.

Instead of teasing your lips with his tongue, he bites your lower lip, forcing you to gasp, and his tongue pushes between your lips with ease. Without looking, because he doesn’t need to, he unbuttons your pants, yanking the zipper down, and maneuvering his hand inside, only to be met with nothing.

You’re naked underneath these pants.

You smirk when you feel him falter. “What?” you murmur against his lips. “It’s laundry da—Ah!” The sneaky bastard.

“What?” he mocks you, smirking against your cheek, nipping at your earlobe while his index finger massages your walls. “I thought this was what you wanted, huh?”

You whine loudly and he shushes you, putting his other hand over your mouth.

“You’re going to cum all over my hand, and you’re going to make it quick.”

You nod dumbly, hips jerking against his movements, gasping when he adds a second finger.

“You’ve got two minutes,” he says. “Starting now. You either cum in two minutes or you don’t. Your choice.”

You’ve cum in less time, so you don’t see it as a challenge, especially not when it’s Gibbs who has his fingers buried in you, his body pressed against yours, whispering dirty things in your ear.

But two minutes pass quicker than you expect them to. Gibbs can feel your walls beginning to spasm, but the seconds are running out.

“Times up,” he says, pulling his fingers from your heat. He watches you, your eyes closed, standing right on the edge, but unable to go over it now that he’s left you. You look like a painting, mouth open, sweat glistening on your neck.

“Gibbs…” you murmur, nearly whine, opening your eyes when he only hums in response because he has his fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He reaches behind him and flicks the emergency switch, causing you to scramble, your trembling hands fumbling with your pants. He swats your hands away gently, zipping you up. For someone who just fucked you with that hand, it’s incredibly steady.

“There,” he whispers. He kisses your forehead gently, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m sorry I’ve been more of a bastard than usual lately.”

“You’re forgiven,” you smirk, “on one condition.”

He already knows what you mean. “Later,” he says.

The elevator dings and your eyes widen, wondering why Gibbs isn’t moving. The second these doors open, whoever is standing there will know. God forbid if Tony and McGee are back and standing there—

But Gibbs sent the elevator to Autopsy, and outside stands only Ducky, hat on his head and coat over his arm. It must be his lunch time.

Ducky smiles knowingly, looking between the two of you. “It’s about time, Jethro.”

Gibbs shakes his head, waving the doctor inside. “Thanks, Duck.”

Happily, Ducky steps inside, standing next to you. He nudges your arm gently. “I tried to get him to come to his senses months ago, Y/N. I’m truly sorry it took him so long.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Ducky,” you nudge him back. “It’s not your fault he’s a bastard.”

You and Gibbs share a look, and he raises his eyebrows at you, letting you know you’ll be paying for that later, too.

+++

Once the Marine is found — alive and well, though his career in the Navy won’t be any more — Gibbs doesn’t have to ask twice if you want to crash at his place.

Tony and McGee are long gone, not having to be asked twice about going home, either. But you stayed back a little at the office, waiting Gibbs out, wondering what it’ll be.

Eventually, he came over to your desk, turning off your lamp. You looked up at him with a tired smile. He nodded his head, said, “Come on,” and that was all it took.

Late at night, NCIS is barren, so Gibbs holds your hand as you walk out to his truck. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you and shuts it.

The ride to his place is quiet, but once you’re there, it all starts again.

“I can’t believe you talked to Ducky about me.”

Gibbs scoffs, tossing his keys on the counter. “I had to. Do you have any idea how hard you are to figure out?”

“Back at you,” you snicker, kicking your shoes off by the couch. “Abby has heard plenty about you pissing me off. I thought our bickering was a joke!”

“It is!”

“Until you threatened to fire me!”

“Because instead of doing your job, you talked about dating—”

You snap your fingers. “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“Your jealousy is showing, Gibbs. This is what I mean: you look stupid.”

“I look stupid, huh?” he fires back, once again getting right in your face. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how stupid you’re about to look.”

“Fucking try me.”

“Oh, believe me,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I will.”

Before you have a chance to figure out what he’s doing, he’s already done it.

“Gibbs!” you squeal, beating your fists on his back. “Seriously?!”

He literally threw you over his shoulder, and now he’s carrying you to his bedroom. Like a sack of potatoes.

“I think I kinda like this view,” he muses, smacking your ass, earning another squeal from you.

“Bastard,” you chuckle, poking his sides.

“That is what they call me.” You can hear his grin.

Once inside his bedroom, he sets you down, grinning even wider when you glare at him.

“I could’ve walked.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, pulling you back into his arms. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Damn him, you think. Damn him for being this good.

“Now,” he says softly, one hand cupping your cheek. “Where did we leave off?”

“You leaving me hanging,” you pout. “Your stupid two minutes.”

“We have all night tonight,” he says, but it sounds more like a warning. “I’m sure I can fix that.”

“You better.”

Clothes come off randomly, in between heated kisses and muttering from the both of you. Even making out can’t stop you both from bickering.

“Really?” Gibbs says disbelieving. “It’s laundry day, but you have a bra on?”

“Would you like my nipples to be out at work?”

He raises his eyebrows, no doubt considering it for a moment.

“Around Tony?” you add and immediately, Gibbs shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

Gibbs glares before unclipping your bra with ease, tossing it onto his dresser — definitely on purpose. You don’t know if you’ll be getting that back.

Left only in his underwear, you tug at the elastic and he kicks them off, now both of you bare, no more barriers between the two of you.

Carefully, he lays you down on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable against the pillows. He takes his time, kissing all over your face, then your neck, nipping and sucking and leaving marks that you’ll scold him for in the morning. But right now, it’s Heaven.

He begins to kiss down your body, to your chest, but you start to whine, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?”  

“I want you inside of me,” you whisper. “Please. Now.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he smirks.

He crawls back up the bed, slotting his body in between your legs. Instinctively, you wrap them around his hips, hooking your heels together at the small of his back, pulling him closer.

“We’ve got all night,” he reminds you, kissing you all over, sensing how eager you are.

“I know,” you smile, running your fingers through his hair. “But I want you now.”

He decides not to tease you any longer, reaching down to guide his head inside of you. You both gasp when he slides in all the way, and you roll your hips immediately, wanting more already.

“Patience,” he warns. “I’m taking my time with you.”

And he does.

He starts out slow, barely pulling out at all before moving back in, rolling his hips against yours, savoring this feeling. He speeds up when he feels your walls beginning to convulse around him, unable to hold himself back from slamming into you.

“Gibbs,” you breathe, nails clawing at his head.

“Jethro,” he corrects lightly.

“Jethro,” you repeat, whimpering when he begins to slam into you with no mercy. “Oh my god, Jeth— Ah! I’m gonna cum—”

“Good,” he growls, moving his lips back to your neck, burying his face there. “Do it.”

A few more thrusts and you’re gone, tensing and trembling in his arms, crying out into his ear. The feeling is godly to him, and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“I need to pull out,” he warns, voice low.

You tighten your legs around him, pressing on the back of his neck, keeping him pinned right where he is. “Don’t you dare.”

You feel him grin into your neck and then he groans, lifting his head to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips with ease. He swallows your moans, relishing in the feeling of your walls already beginning to pulse around him again.

The second time you cum, the feeling makes him lose his bearings, and then he’s pounding into you, filling you with his load. When you feel him twitch inside of you, it’s like your orgasm doubles in size, and you’re clinging to him like you’ll float away if you don’t.

Gibbs puts nearly all of his weight on you, holding you down, holding him inside of you as he pants in your ear.

“Shit,” he mutters. “What are you doin’ to me?”

Chuckling, you pull him in for another kiss.

+++

After rolling around in the sheets some more, the two of you take a shower, and then crawl back in bed.

But you can’t sleep. You’re thinking about anything and everything, and it seems like Gibbs is, too.

A lot of what you’re thinking about, you don’t even know if it’s worth bringing up. Or if it doesn’t need to be brought up tonight, if it can be dealt with later. If you want to deal with it later.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You roll over and face him, loving the way he looks in the moonlight. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go work on the boat?”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“I’ll get the coffee,” you grin, tossing the covers off of your body.

Gibbs meets you at the doorway, pulling you in by your hips, kissing you deeply. You almost think he’s going to take you back to bed before he pulls away, just staring into your eyes.

“What?” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “You know I don’t want this to be a one-night-only thing, right?”

Relief floods your body. “Me either,” you murmur. “I want it to be more.”

“I’m not good at marriage,” he blurts, like he needed to get it off his chest.

“Well, I know that,” you grin, patting his chest lightly. He laughs. “It’s a good thing I’m not the marrying type.”

He can’t help but kiss you again. All this time, he’s been holding back, because there’s been this voice in his head, telling him you’d want a husband. You’re younger, you’re beautiful, why wouldn’t you?

But then he thinks, you’re young, you’re beautiful, why would you?

“I decided a long time ago that marriage isn’t for me, Jethro,” you continue, wanting him to know the full truth, right now. “So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiles.

“So are we good, then?”

“We’re good,” he nods. “We’re good. Still wanna work on that boat?”

“You mean do I still want to watch you work on a boat? Absolutely. You probably look sexy as hell.”

“I’ll teach you a few things,” he says with a smirk.

You return the expression. “I’m sure you will.”

+++

At work the next week, Tony catches you and Gibbs walking in together, clearly having spent the night together as well. He says nothing when Gibbs is around (of course), but the second he leaves, Tony is nosy as hell.

“Something to share, Y/N?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, logging onto your computer. “You got something to say?”

Tony narrows his eyes. “You came in with Gibbs.”

“We got here at the same time,” you shrug. “Happened to get to the elevator at the same time. It happens.”

“What happens?” Gibbs asks, sneaking up on Tony like always.

“Nothing, boss,” Tony straightens up. “How’s your coffee?”

Gibbs stares at Tony.

“Right,” Tony heads back to his desk quickly.

You share a smile with Gibbs, deciding to keep up appearances as usual. “What? No coffee for me?”

“Get your own, Agent L/N,” he says, sending you a wink.

When you get up to do just that an hour later, Gibbs meets you in the elevator.

[cumbercum]

A Real Cowboy

Summary: Your at a rock concert, bored out of your mind when peculiar man catches your eye.

Paring: Agent Whiskey x f!reader

Content: Whiskey being a flirt. Suggestive hints.

Word count: 574

You honestly didn’t know why you were at this rock concert. Well actually you did, you won tickets for it. The real question is why you haven’t left yet.

The music was just okay, there was an insane amount of people, none of which were attractive, and the drinks were overpriced.

But the tickets were free and while you were bored you weren’t going to miss out on something free. So here you were, standing at the bar sipping on your fruity cocktail. Your eyes traveled from person to person, watching and studying them. It wasn’t like you had anything else better to do.

As you continued your people watching you saw him. A man dressed in classic, southern cowboy attire. Boots, jacket, flask, hat and all.

Normally you weren’t the cowboy type but this guy, he just seemed different. You subtly watched as he confidently strolled up to the bar. More specifically towards you.

Unfortunately he wasn’t aiming for you but rather for the chick to your left. And being the nosy shit you are, you snooped in on the conversation.

Right off the bat he hit her with a quirky pick up line. She seemed unamused but you, oh boy you were eating up his voice. It was so smooth, ragged and with the accent, mwah! Chefs kiss!

As you sipped your drink a couple more words were exchanged. But you didn’t really listen, you were too focused on how you should approach the man if he got rejected by her.

“Follow my finger.” You heard her say. You zoned back in and watched as she held up her hand and swiped it to the left.

While you quickly understood what she was doing it seemed that he didn’t.

“Ha, what are we doin’?” He laughed, confused.

She then gave him a puzzled look, “What? You don’t do Tinder in America?”

“Tinder what-”

“You know what, I think it's probably a generational thing.” A man popped in from behind the lady. “Wanna go someplace else, away from this old man?”

She sighed a breath of relief, “Yes please.”

The two intertwined arms and walked off, leaving the cowboy alone. Perfect, this was surprisingly going in your favor. Now it was time to shoot your shot.

“She’s clearly missing out.” You muttered loud enough for him to hear.

You moved your eyes to glance over at him to find him staring right back at you. So you continued,

“But I suppose cowboys aren’t for everyone.” You shrugged, flashing a smile.

You could tell he liked your attitude and your flirty-ness. His cocky grin said it all.

“So, then I take it, you are sugar?” He spoke leaning against the bar.

You placed your hand on your cheek and looked up at him. “Maybe. You don’t see many cowboys out here so I wouldn’t know what they're like.”

That set him off. He had already forgot about his rejection and only focused on you.

“Well you're just in luck darlin.”He began, moving closer to you. “I can show you what a real cowboy is like.”

That was it for you. You wanted him, you needed him. You bit your lip holding back the moan threatening to leave you lips.

“Please.” You gently breathed out.

“Show me.”

[jade-parcels]

Hoho OP you have some quality writing. Can I see your interpetations of Xiao, Diluc, Albedo with an artistic S/O >◇<

Thank you!!! <3 :) Mwah!

Having an Artistic Lover!

With Xiao, Diluc and Albedo

—————————

Xiao:

‘...what are you doing?’ ‘I’m painting!’ ‘Well you’re making a mess’

At first he won’t really get it. Of course what you make is beautiful but it’s also messy and takes forever. Who has time to spend on such a thing? Not him. He’s a busy bee

At the same time though, when it comes to you, Xiao tends to be nosy. He wants to know what you’re up to and be involved in what you like! So even though he doesn’t enjoy the idea of just sitting around, he’ll make an effort to watch you

‘Here, give me your arm!’ He’ll sigh and stick it out for you. He watches as you paint stars and the moon on his arm, his eyes following your brushstrokes

‘This is going to come right off in the rain’ ‘Not all art is permanent, Xiao. Some art is meant to enjoy in the moment! You had fun sitting with me just now, right?’ ‘...yeah’ ‘Then this painting fulfilled its purpose’

Maybe he does understand art a bit better

Diluc:

Watch out cause this man will want to display all of your art!! All of it!

He is astonished by what you create, he thinks it’s all gorgeous! You could glue googly eyes to a rock and he’d love it lmao

Remember that weird case Kaeya gave him? That he displays in his home? He’ll do the same with your art, it doesn’t matter if it ‘doesn’t match the room’ he wants his guests to see what you made!!

He’ll tend to stay away while you work cause he doesn’t want to distract you but if you invite him to come sit and watch he will leap at the opportunity

‘You make this look so easy...’ ‘I haven’t even started, I’m just mixing colors’ ‘I know that, but you make it look easy. You know just how much blue to add and just how much yellow-‘

He’ll ask for you to make something for him to display in the tavern too just so he has a piece of you there ‘If you don’t have time that’s totally understandable, I don’t want to push a project on you’ ‘I’d love to make something for the tavern! That sounds so fun! What did you have in mind?’ ‘Make whatever you want’

If you include him in a project in any way...He’ll be a mess lmao he loves you so much! He’d do anything for you! However, if you’re asking him to pose nude uh-

Albedo:

Albedo is quite the artist himself so when he finds out you also share in interest in arts, he will be very curious to see what you’ll make!

His medium of choice is paint. Usually oil paints or simple normal paints! He always has canvases or sketchbooks available, he’s happy to share with you if you want to use them! He’ll also take you to the small art supply shop he visits when he needs to stock up on supplies!

Albedo doesn’t exactly show a lot of emotion but when he looks at your art? You’ll get to see his cute little focused expression as he takes it in ‘Is this me..?’ ‘Mhm!’ ‘Hm...I quite like the way you add texture to your pieces’

He’ll definitely want to sit and watch you work so you better be comfortable with some silent staring. Cause he’ll sit there and not say a word, he’s just observing. If you get him talking though, it’ll probably be less awkward! :)

Something fun to try out would be the teo of you painting/drawing each other at the same time! How cute is that? A wonderful couple’s bonding moment

‘You know, I don’t think I can do you justice, love. You’re so beautiful, i could never perfectly capture that on a canvas-‘ ‘Hey Albedo look, I gave you a unibrow’ ‘*sigh* brilliant’

[skrillawrld]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐎

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Why are you always bullying people's kids?" You said looking at your boyfriend of 8 months.

"It's in my blood sweetheart." He said about to flick you on your forehead but you dodged it.

"I just told yo ass my braids got my head hurting and you steady tryna hurt my head more." You said looking at satans spawn.

"I'm sorry baby lemme kiss it better." He said leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"You betters only be kissing it cause if you ain't my fist is gonna kiss your face." You said leaning your forehead in.

"See all better." He said kissing and rubbing your forehead.

"I knew you always had a soft side to you." Hara said walking up to you and your boyfriend popping his gum.

"You don't speak a word about this." Your boyfriend said to him.

"Why? You don't like people knowing you get a lot of kisses from me?" You questioned Hanamiya jokingly.

"It's not that baby, I just don't want people to know I have a weak spot for someone, you already know how I am." He said whispering into your ear.

"Mkay baby I got you." You said whispering into his ear back and kissing his sensitive spot behind his ear.

"And if he is what about it." You said to Hara.

"Nothing wrong with it, anyways I'll catch you at practice later." Hara said to Hanamiya.

"Yh okay." He said back.

───♡༉───

"Why did you say that todayyy." Hanamiya said laying on your chest playing with a couple of your braids.

"I said it because I wanted him to mind his business, your friends are so rough and nosy." You said poking him on his forehead.

"I know, they won't bother you, so you only see their roughness from afar." He said snuggling his head between your chest more.

"Mhm, anyways let's watch a disney movie." You said reaching for the remote.

"If it's a princess movie I'm not watching it." He said.

"Oh yes the hell you will." You said putting frozen 2 on.

───♡༉───

"Into the unknownnnn."

A couple minutes have passed and Hanamiya was currently sleeping on your chest while you was singing him a song from frozen.

"You're just a big softie in disguised." You said pulling him up a little so he'll be snuggled into your neck.

"Yh your big softie." He said kissing your neck.

"Gimme kiss." You said poking out your lips.

*Mwah*

"Do you think we'll be together for long." You asked him.

"Yes, I only tolerate you." He said kissing your collarbone.

"Maybe if you stop bullying people kids I can tolerate you more, don't you think?" You said to him.

"I couldddd, but would I be me if I didn't." He said sleepily.

"Yes, you honestly would be, you should put that pent up anger into a boxing bag baby." You said to him trying to sweet talk him out of his negative ways.

"I could but I just like to mess with people." He said before falling asleep.

"Sweet dreams baby." You said flipping him over and Laying on his chest.

───♡༉───

"Hey Hanamiya." You said walking into school.

"Hey brat, what do you want." He said back.

"Ouch, so mean to your loving girlfriend who just wants to give you your daily kisses." You said pouting.

"Fine, let's go." He said dragging you to somewhere more secluded.

"Give me my kisses now." He said opening up his arms.

"Okay baby." You said then peppered his face in kisses.

"Thank you." He said.

"You're welcome."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

©tendosbrat

[combat-wombatus]

Mirio "Would you Mind if I kissed you" please and thank you!

guess who’s back on their bs :’)

i have finished!! a fic!!

giving myself a pat on the back bc this

i deleted and rewrote the ending to this one like so. many. times.

anyways i love u for requesting!! *mwah* ❤️  here u go! (i hope it isn’t too trash adskljfhsadlkjh)

24: “Would you mind if I kissed you?” Character: Togata Mirio

It was a quiet day at the Nighteye Hero Agency. The streets were unusually tranquil, especially for the usually bustling city of Tokyo.

Considering that it was New Year’s Eve, the streets should’ve been packed, crowded with people and people-watchers alike, those who were traveling to a specific destination and those who were aimlessly wandering through the city. But this year, it was all different.

Quarantine restrictions had some people on edge. Those who were social butterflies craved human interaction, desperately talking with friends online and hoping to regain a semblance of their previously vibrant social lives. Those who weren’t, well, they didn’t mind it much, as long as they weren’t stuck at home with their nosy families day after day. As for today, most people were just glad that this hellish year was over. They didn’t have the ability to revel in the coming of a new decade, nor did they really wish to. They just hoped that, finally, the next year would be as uneventful as possible.

Most people breathed a sigh of relief at the empty streets and noiseless festivities.

You were not most people.

As a sidekick working in one of the most respected agencies in the city, you were worried. You usually had a fairly accurate sense of…well, you would call it intuition. And today, you had a sinking feeling in your gut when you saw the state of the streets.

“Hey,” you called out to Bubble Girl. “Are you sure that there’s been no activity, whatsoever?”

Bubble Girl scrolled through her tablet. “Yes, (Y/H/N). None whatsoever. Lemillion is still patrolling, but he’s checking back in every five minutes, and nothing’s happened so far. Why do you ask?” Her brows furrowed in concern. You didn’t normally ask pointless questions.

“Just…a gut feeling.” You decided to say, not knowing how else to describe it. “I just get the feeling that someone’s planning something big today.”

“Something big…” She frowned in concentration. Suddenly, her face cleared. “(Y/H/N),” she called out. “This intuition of yours…is it limited to bad things, or do you get premonitions of good things too?”

You thought for a moment. “Well…one time when I was smaller, my parents threw a surprise birthday party for me. I had a gut feeling that something was going to go wrong, and then I got really scared when I went home and the lights were all off. I already had my phone dialed to the police, and when they all jumped out from behind the kitchen counter, I fainted. They had to take me to a hospital and I missed my birthday cake.”

Bubble Girl started laughing. “So…was your intuition telling you that you were going to have a surprise party, or was it telling you that you were going to faint and end up in the hospital?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. Sometimes, I think that my intuition unintentionally causes the bad things to happen because I’m always overcautious. But it’s hard not to be,” you added. “Especially when you’re in this line of work.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I suppose. But…for today, I think that your intuition is trying to tell you that something good is going to happen.”

You frowned. “And why is that?”

“Well…let’s call it my intuition,” Bubble Girl winked.

Hours later, nothing had happened. No bombing, no murders…nothing. You supposed that even criminals needed a holiday once in a while. Still, the uneasy feeling in your gut never faded.

The front door to the agency crashed open. You sprung up in alarm, but relaxed when you saw that it was only Mirio.

“Hello!” He beamed at you. “Happy New Year’s Eve! Sorry about the door,” he added sheepishly. “I may have underestimated my kick.”

Mirio was holding a box in his arms. Slowly replacing the door with his foot, he set the box down on the ground. “Would you mind getting some blankets from the staff room, (Y/N)?”

“Uh, sure. Why?” You were beginning to get suspicious. “Mirio, what’s in that box?”

“N-nothing, (Y/N). I just picked up some supplies for Peder.” Mirio quickly covered the box with his cape.

You were beginning to think that whatever catastrophe you felt was going to happen, it was going to involve the mystery inside that ordinary cardboard box. Quickly heading to the staff room to supply Mirio with some blankets, you bumped into Bubble Girl.

She was holding a large sack of something in her arms, all of which landed on your feet when you crashed into her.

“Crap! I’m so sorry, (Y/H/N),” she apologized profusely. “I should’ve watched where I was going-”

Ignoring her, you were instead busy analyzing the contents of the sack that had spilled onto the ground.

“Bubble Girl, what’s all this?” You directed your gaze towards a bag of what looked to be…dog kibble?

“Oh! Uh, Peder wanted to try a new diet! He says that a nutrition expert suggested some vitamin supplements and such. For his specific constitution, of course.” She hastily scooped up the sack and hurried out to the lobby.

“…Peder’s supplements? In the lobby? She should’ve come up with a better excuse,” you shook your head. By now, your inkling of suspicion had been practically confirmed. You made your way to the staff room and grabbed the two fuzziest blankets you could find.

Heading back towards the lobby, you stopped at the doorway when you heard a strange noise.

“Woof!” The sound echoed through the room again, and you smiled. “Mirio…always doing things like that, aren’t you?” You murmured underneath your breath, leaning on the doorframe.

The man in question was holding out a tennis ball with his left hand, bouncing it up and down, much to the delight of an enthused puppy. Bubble Girl was crouching to the side, filling a dog bowl full of kibble. Your heart warmed at the scene.

“Hey Mirio, I brought the blankets,” you stepped into the room, startling both the puppy and Mirio.

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” Mirio held a hand to his neck, chuckling awkwardly. “Well…this was supposed to be a surprise,” he shrugged. “For New Year’s, you know?”

You giggled at his antics. “Well…it’s nice to know that my intuition can predict happy events too,” you passed the blanket over to him.

Turning to Bubble Girl, you raised your eyebrows at her. “Did you know? Was that why you weren’t worried this morning?”

“Yeah, I did,” she smiled. “I’m glad to know that I was right.”

You looked at the puppy bouncing around on the new blanket fort Mirio had made. “What are you going to name it?” You sat cross-legged on the floor, holding out your hands to fluffy ball of energy. It barked once at you, then leapt right into your arms.

“Well, I was thinking…Milo?” Mirio looked to you, cocking his head sideways. “Do you like it?”

Gently scratching behind the pup’s ears, you snuggled him even closer to your chest. “I love it.” You picked him up by his haunches and held him up to your head. He waggled a little paw in response.

“Welcome to the family, Milo,” you said softly, stroking his soft fur. He nuzzled even deeper into your warmth, resting his soft head atop your shoulder.

“He likes you,” Mirio noted, grinning widely. Shifting his weight to the side, he reached behind your back and shook out the blanket, draping it across your arms.

Bubble Girl took one look at the two of you, muttered an excuse about paperwork, and quickly left the room. You glanced at her hasty retreat with raised eyebrows. That wasn’t entirely normal either.

“So, uh, (Y/N),” Mirio started. He’d moved closer, and his broad shoulder was now pressed against yours. “I…I really like you. As more than a friend.” He blushed, his cheeks turning a rosy hue. “And…I, uh, I want to take you out to lunch sometime. Can I do that?”

You were fairly sure that you had heard him wrong. As your breath hitched in your throat, you turned to face him, eyes wide. “You…you like me? As more than friends?”

Mirio’s lips cracked into his characteristic smile. “Yes, (Y/N). As more than friends.” He confirmed.

A blush rose to your cheeks. “Then it’s good that we feel the same way, right?” You smiled back at him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s very good.” Leaning closer, he cupped your face with a calloused palm.

“(Y/N) …would you mind if I kissed you?”

You tilted your face up and answered him with a kiss. Your lips met, and it didn’t take much prodding for you to open up to his adventurous tongue. Sighing into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mm…Mirio,” you mumbled against his chest when the two of you had come up for breath.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” Mirio rested his chin atop your head.

“Happy New Year’s.”

Coco’s New Year Celebration 20-21

Masterlist

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - pt. 3

truth or dare & nosy teammates 

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 2.1k

note from the writer: enjoy! make sure to read the prologue and the first two parts before this! let me know what you think!

SUMMERTIME

“What are we, twelve?” You teased as soon as the suggestion to play truth or dare was tossed out by someone. You were a few beers deep into the night, the sun had set a while ago and the adults and kids had long gone to bed.

Your group consisted of you, Tyson, Rachel, Michael, and Michael’s friend Dan. You liked Dan, he was harmless and funny, and he clearly liked you, if the way he had been trying to get close to you all day was any indication. He wasn’t good at taking hints, though, you had spent half the night tucked under Tyson’s arm and he still was trying to get your attention.

Now, Tyson wasn’t known as the smartest guy in the locker room, but when it came to you, he knew what was going on. He just laughed off any advances Dan made towards you, knowing you would never do anything to hurt him. Plus, when it was time to play truth or dare around the campfire, it was his side you curled into and he was the one that got to kiss the top of your head as you did so.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Rachel argued, and you rolled your eyes despite the grin on your face and you sat up a little straighter for the game. The first few rounds passed harmlessly, Rachel made Tyson give Michael a kiss on the cheek, which he did with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ that had you simultaneously giggling and contemplating about never letting him kiss you again just so he’d never get the chance to do that to you. Michael used you picking dare as a chance to get a refill on his drink, and you claimed that ‘go get me another beer’ wasn’t a dare, but you lost that argument since Rachel and Tyson both needed fresh bottles.

You made Rachel tell her most embarrassing sex story and it devolved from there. Tyson had Michael twerk on Dan, and Tyson, unprompted, decided to show Michael how it’s done and started twerking on you. You were seated, so it was more just him shaking his ass in your face, and you laughed so hard you got a stitch in your side.

“What’s the biggest turn off in a guy for you?” Dan had calmed things down towards the end of the night. You were tired, too tired to get up and do anything, so you picked truth. Clearly, Dan was trying to hint at something—probably the obvious feelings he had for you, but you’ll never know for sure.

“When guys are the gross kind of possessive, you know?” You nodded your head dramatically, the drinks you had finally catching up to you. Tyson chuckled as you slumped into him, your head on his shoulder and his arm snaking around your waist. Rachel apparently didn’t get the memo that things were winding down, because she shot up in her seat at your statement, pointing her half-empty beer at you.

“That’s the worst! Like, he’s my guy friend, I don’t want to fuck him. Stop getting jealous.” She blurted, probably a bit too loud for being in her backyard and her parents asleep in the house right by you.

“I don’t do that, do I?” Michael looked at his girlfriend, brows furrowed. He relaxed back into his seat, though, when Rachel shook her head and dropped back into her chair. You chuckled at her tiredly, tilting your head up to look at Tyson as he shrugged the shoulder you were leaning against to get your attention.

“Bedtime?” You nodded at his one-word question, pushing yourself forward just a bit to lazily press your lips to his. You could feel him smile into the kiss, and that made you grin in return. You pulled back first, the idea of crawling into bed suddenly very appealing. Tyson stood first, hauling you to your feet and letting you lean into him. He passed Dan, reaching out to do an abridged ‘bro-handshake’ since Dan was still sitting. “It was nice meeting you, man.”

Apparently, it was then that Dan seemed to realize that you and Tyson were a thing, because his eyes widened, and he started stuttering out apologies.

“I’m sorry, dude, I didn’t know—” He started, and Tyson cut him off with a chuckle. And though his arm tightened around you, it was only because you were nuzzling into his side in a bid to steal some of his body heat since you had moved away from the fire.

“It’s all good.” He waved off Dan. He had no reason to be jealous, as he was certain you were just as gone for him as he was for you.

You just smiled up at him. Tyson was definitely not the gross kind of possessive.  

PRESENT

Since your roommate was a bit of a nightmare, you often opted to take your work to a nearby coffee shop instead of spending a half hour trying to get her to realize her music was too loud and you couldn't focus because of it. You had been looking into moving, but between student debts and just the cost of living on your own, you were pretty much stuck with her for the time being.

You had headphones on to help you focus, but it was between songs that you heard someone say your name seconds before a hand was waved in your face. Pulling out an earbud, you smiled at the person who interrupted you. There were only a few people who could pull you out of your work without you getting mad, and only one could make you smile so easily despite everything.

"Hey, Tyson." You greeted, leaning back into your seat. He was grinning at you, and one of his teammates, Sam Girard, you think, was politely smiling at you from behind his shoulder. You greeted him, too, and he nudged Tyson before retreating back in line to order.

"Didn't know you lived in Denver for months and now I can't stop running into you." Tyson teased, sliding into the booth opposite you. You chuckled at his comment, it had been a month and a half since you first met back up with Tyson, so you had adjusted and grown comfortable with the idea of letting him back into your life—as a friend, nothing more. You had met up with him a dozen or so times since then, but it was always during the day and at places like coffee shops and your favorite diner.

It was awkward at first, spending time with Tyson and trying to avoid thinking about the summer you spent together. But things were always easy with him, and you had grown accustomed to having him around again. Still, you had to catch yourself from greeting him with a kiss, and you could tell he had to force himself to keep your hugs on a side of friendly that you never had to do before. But even if you weren't with Jon, you would still be hesitant to bring any romantic feelings into your friendship with him.

"What are you up to today?" You asked, finishing up the email you had to send before turning to look at him. He was already smiling at you, and the familiar rush that ran through you from being under his stare had you dropping your gaze back to your laptop. You hated how he always made you feel like a teenager with a crush, despite the fact you weren’t letting yourself think like that again.

"We just finished a morning skate; we're just hanging out." Tyson replied easily, and you relaxed a bit as he gave no indication whether or not he noticed your reaction to him, knowing him, he probably did, but was too nice to say anything about it. Before you could respond, Sam slid into the seat beside Tyson, flashing you a grin that spelled trouble.

"We're going out tonight, a bar called Tina's." Sam explained and you nodded, knowing the spot. You had learned about the place when Rachel and Michael had come to visit and you took them there and had been back a few times since then. "You should come."

You were caught off guard by the offer, but Tyson's grin widened just a bit more. You considered it, it was a Saturday and you were currently getting most of your work done, so you wouldn't have to worry about it later. But there was still something weird about going to a bar with your ex-who's-technically-not-your-ex and his friends.

"You can bring Jon." Tyson's expression fell a bit as he offered, and you just knew your smile was a bit too tight and your nod too stiff. Sam raised a brow at the statement, looking between you and Tyson as if he knew something was wrong. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, you could practically hear it, and something told you that you needed to change the topic.

"Sounds great."

And that was how you ended up at a bar on a Saturday night, your boyfriend trailing behind you as you searched for your—Tyson?—to introduce the two of them. Rachel had fully laughed at you for putting yourself in the situation when you called her earlier and freaked out.

The fact that you avoided telling Jon exactly what your history was with Tyson probably didn't help ease your conscience. He knew that you were friends from a few years back and that you lost touch, but he had no idea about just how you had spent that summer. You knew you would have to come clean at some point, but you'd rather not have that be twenty minutes before you had to meet up with everyone. Jon had a bit of a jealous streak, and you wanted the night to go as smoothly as possible.

You had been at the bar for all of two minutes, barely spotting the group of guys at a booth in the back, but Jon had already woven an arm around your waist. He always did this when you went out, making sure you stayed close to him and him only. It could get annoying, but you obliged, knowing it was better to just let him have his way for a few hours instead of picking a fight.

"Hey, guys." You waved nervously, greeting the table as soon as you got close. Tyson jumped up from his spot, effectively booting Cale from his seat between you and him. Jon's grip on you tightened, and you were forced to give Tyson an awkward half-hug since he wouldn't let go. You tried to avoid the questioning look Tyson gave you, but you knew it was there.

“Are you Bracelet Girl?” A toothless blonde, Erik Johnson, you couldn’t mistake him for anyone else, shouted from his spot in the booth. JT, who was seated next to him, elbowed him sharply while flashing you a grin. You were flushed, gaze focused on the ground as a round of laughter fluttered through the group.

“Shut up, man.” Tyson hissed, and a quick glance up told you he was just as embarrassed as you were—if the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears had turned cherry red said anything.

“Yeah, I am.” You chuckled, offering Erik your actual name. You were a little caught off guard by the way he cheered, and it was that moment you realized the two empty bottles on the table must belong to him.

“Call me EJ, and the first round is on me. I want to hear all the dirty details about offseason Josty.” Erik grinned, his comment earning snickers from the group and you were just about to reply before you were tugged tighter into Jon’s side, caught off balance just enough to have you stumbling into him.

“Her drinks are on me. I’m Jon, her boyfriend.” You had to school your features to stop from wincing, but you couldn’t control yourself enough to avoid putting an inch or so of distance between yourself and him.

You also pretended not to notice the same confused looks the guys were giving you and Tyson, not unlike the one Sam had given you earlier.

“Alright, no harm done.” EJ muttered, punctuating his sentence with a swig of his drink and you started to wonder if bringing Jon was a good idea.

“I think I’m going to buy my own drinks tonight.” You commented, putting another inch of space between you and him. You avoided his gaze, flashing Tyson a tight-lipped smile before turning to head to the bar.

You thought about that game of truth or dare you played that summer, and how the answer you gave Dan on your biggest turn offs was still true.

And if the look Tyson gave you as you caught his eye was any indication, he remembered too.

[incoherentbabblings]

What are your favourite comics anyway?

Oh! Oh! Oh! Okay. Full disclaimer. We’re going for what comics I re-read over and over again. Are these comics...good? Eh. Are they bad? No, I don’t think so. Some were meh to wow! when first released that time has either been kinder or harsher to, but I don’t think I have a series or a run or a title which is I like which is like... hot guilty garbage. Though, of course, feel free to disagree. There are some authors on here which people will not want to touch with a barge pole, and I totally understand and encourage not touching them if you don’t want to.

Having said that, here are my favourite popcorn comics (largely Titans and Batfam because I am... basic): 

The Flash (2016) issues 39-45 + Annual #1

Having said that, Flash time first. People think Williamson is a real hit or miss writer and I do agree, but I think this whole arc is one big hit. It’s frantic in its energy, I love Gorilla Grodd as a villain, I love the modern Flashfam trying to help, I love how Wally coming in to help totally turns the tide and the mood. I love how everyone looks at Wally like… this guys is powerful, more powerful than any other speedster… but also noting there’s something very fragile about him. I didn’t include Flash War in this because I’m still waiting for the payoff for that angst regarding Wally, but this arc… mwah. Wallace Rudolph West being vindicated as the greatest Flash (whilst allowing Barry to be flawed and to lead his family)? Yes please. Also I love Carmine’s art. I gather it’s hit and miss for some folk but I love the line work. Also Carlos D’Anda’s issue (come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack draw Dick and Roy again your work has gotten so much cuter this past decade) is a beauty too. Big ol’ eyes.

 (Under the cut ‘cause this is LONG)

Batman Dark Victory

One of two Loeb stories for me. And yeah sure Long Halloween is objectively better but…jelly bean

Also, angry traumatised Dick smacking a dying man with a stick. What a legend.

Gates of Gotham

Cass! Damian! Dick!Bats! Tim! A mystery villain! World building for Gotham! Stuff exploding! Batfam banter! Trevor McCarthy art! This bizarre panel of Jim Gordon holding Tim’s hand like he’s checking the time?

It’s one of the last ‘pure’ Batman stories before the reboot – Bat Inc aside – so it’s how I like to read the Batfam’s relationship by the end of that universe. Everyone’s a lot more content, proud Dad Bruce, happy and settled Dick and Damian, Cassandra returning home, Tim chopping off the emo hair… it’s all good.

Grayson (particularly #5)

I know why people can’t stand it. The circumstances leading up to it are bog awful. Opinions on Tom King’s writing has only grown more spliced with time. The (sex) jokes are too on the nose and hit too close to home for many. The cheesecake art is too stilted for some. But! Issue #5 is my favourite single issue story. Ever. You never have thought boxes in this series, because everyone is lying, but you aren’t told when. You never know how genuine Dick is being at any given moment, until it is just him and the baby. I love how single-minded it allows him to be. I love how he flat out lies and manipulates to protect that little girl, whilst also caring for Helena. About how seriously he takes his job of protecting Bruce and his family (and that’s why he’s even doing the stupid spy thing in the first place). And maaaaybe it’s unrealistic that Dick could outlast Midnighter crossing the desert, but screw it. Bruce can be better than metahumans all the time. Let Dick get an issue to be so to. Saving a little girl who is probably going to grow up to be akin to Superwoman. Just because he’s given himself that responsibility. He’s going to double cross twenty groups at the same time and come out clean as a whistle. And he’ll cross a desert with a newborn to do it.

Light of my fricking life.

Infinite Crisis

I…I like that things go boom. John’s is very good for that. Also, the Nightwing and Batman moments howowheheheheheheeeeeeee. Almost wish Bruce had shot Alexander. I wonder what would have happened?

(Brief side note: Graphic Audio’s adaptation of this is great fun. I dropped a bowl of cereal at the part of Superboy Prime versus the Titans. Cassie’s scream when Pantha’s head got punched off was a bit…intense. The No Man’s Land one is very good too if you have cash to burn - the voice actors are the same in both and Nightwing’s voice actor has this lisp and I don’t know man... I love it. He’s now the voice in my head for Dick).

Titans/JLA and The Titans (1999) issues 1-25

The Titans are now known I think for not being a very proactive hero group. Books struggle with balancing team dynamics versus plot, and this one is no exception. I know people don’t want to touch Devin Grayson’s stuff with a barge pole. My justification for this is flimsy I accept that, however, the JLA/Titans comic was the very first comic I read when I was like six or seven. I was rummaging through my brother’s room as a nosy kid does and this was at the top of his pile. Thank god for the little info boxes as each Titan was captured/referenced. I fell in love with Kory, I fell in love with Dick, I fell in love with Donna (oh Donna…) and then I tumbled down a hole and pretended I hadn’t until about six years ago. So that’s nice. So yes, this one is one hundred percent nostalgia based. 

But honestly, Linkara did a retrospective on this event comic and series years ago, and his reasons for loving it are the same as mine really, so go watch those if you have like five hours to kill. When Devin leaves the comic remains strong for just a moment then... absolutely plummets off a cliff. So I really wouldn’t bother with the second half of the series but hey. You do you.

Teen Titans/Outsiders: The Insiders

More Geoff John’s explosions. My first comic that got bought for me. My brother walked in to the shop and said: “I need a comic for my sister where Starfire gets a good showing” and the men went… ah yes.

Eleven-year old me was like EXPLOSIONSSSSS but also was intrigued by Kory and Dick’s bedtime convos (perhaps…I was a bit under the age bracket for this book - Kory gets a good showing huh?) but uh. Anyway. Also this is when I was thoroughly enamoured with Roy. This crossover is typical Winnick and John’s angsty angst with overly poetic narration and tropey tropes which, combined with what came before and what was to come for the Outsiders, can make both series such a slog to get through, but in isolation, I think it’s a real fun crossover which gave everyone a bit of time to shine and some real fan-ficcy moments (very self-indulgent, and I love that in a comic).

Teen Titans: Year One

I love Amy Wolfram and I love Karl Kerschel. It’s a good intro to those five characters with cute stories. Does exactly what it says on the tin. Batman is demonstrably a major prick in this, even after de-brainwashing, so it’s obviously going with the ‘Dick is only half as functioning as he is thanks to Roy, Wally, Garth and Donna’, which I can get behind 100% depending on what story they are trying to tell, but it’s just… it’s still sad to read. I just think the art is brilliant at giving each of the five very clear characteristics just from their body language, and you know immediately what each character dynamic is like with another.

Batman Hush

The other Loeb story. Again, it has what I like in a Batman story. A mystery, the family, appearances of villains, flashbacks and brooding, fighting, Jim Lee’s Nightwing being hunky… Ahem. It’s a fun read I think. Also, I really like Loeb’s Bruce? I don’t think people talk about it much. But he’s really chatty in his own head. And he’s witty and dry and funny. I like that! Also, Babs is such a backbone of this story. I adore that. She’s treated well here, I think.

Black Mirror

I flipping love this arc. I love it. I love the two contrasting but deeply disturbing in different manner art styles, I love the mystery, I love Babs role in the story, I love Tim’s little appearances and the banter with Dick, I love the weird villains and the terrifying ones, and how you think one is one of the two only to be revealed to be the other or both. I love Dick’s investigation and how he goes about it differently to Bruce. I love Dick’s relationship with Jim, I love the flipping reference to the vultures and owls seemingly following Dick (a whole reboot before Snyder got to tell that story), I love the monologue about how James thinks Dick is weird and weak for his compassion and love, when really that’s his greatest strength, I love Jim wanting so hard to believe James is trying against Babs’s cynicism, but also does try to get an unbiased opinion of someone who is proven good at reading people (Dick) and does what he needs to when his son is actively harming people, I love that ambiguous ending and the questionable science, I even love the Joker’s one (1) scene with Dick. I love this line,

I love Snyder at his best. When he’s good…mwah. Great.

…And yeah. That’s my story.

[beefy-keefy]

Keith and Shiro fall into each other because of a dog, a significant absence of knowledge, and nosy friends who are tired of a bad roommates romance and would like very much for Shiro and Keith to cut the crap and bone already.

on twitter as a thread

It starts off with Keith, because Keith is a catalyst and everything he does is absolutely fucking genius in Shiro's eyes. Even if the dog didn't exist, even if Keith hadn't been on his phone at the exact right time and stumbled on the photo before it could have disappeared down his timeline, Shiro likes to imagine that the story might have ended the same way-- that is, coming home to a dog and a boy he could kiss. Of course, though, that'd come later. 

In the present, Keith is curled up scrolling on his Twitter on a well-worn armchair and jerks his head up suddenly to lock eyes with Shiro, reading on the couch behind him. His face is so shocked and his eyes so wide that for a moment Shiro's heart stops, expecting the worst, but then Keith's shaking hand tilts his phone so Shiro can see what's on the cracked screen: a puppy. 

Before he can react, Keith is in his face and talking fast. "OhmygodShirodidyouseeit oh god oh god oh god..." 

Shiro moves to place a hand on his shoulder, but Keith jumps up and begins to pace their barren floor with both hands slowly dragging down his face. "I can't fucking believe, oh my god--I need it. It's up for adoption and I know our floor doesn't allow dogs but look at its eyes have you ever seen a man more handsome--" 

It figures that the only time Keith talks about an attractive man is when it's a dog. Keith--has a thing for them. The only things on his timeline are dogs and Shiro himself out of possible obligation. But he can't even curse himself for not being born a dog right now because the puppy is, admitidly, really fucking cute and two sets of puppy dog eyes are staring up at him right now. 

There was no way he could have said no, because Keith was Keith and Shiro was himself and the universe conspired to torture him. 

They meet up at the adoption center four days later. There's kennels and rows of dogs looking up at them from inside, and Shiro might have cried a little bit but Keith just sadly brushes the bars and murmurs, "I wish I could take you all home. I'll come back,  I swear." His eyes light up again though when the lady unlocks one in the far back though, revealing a puppy with glossy fur and big ears. The dog sidesteps the lady when she tries to lift him, and instead bounds over to Keith as if they'd met before. 

"Hey puppy," he murmurs when the dog tucks himself into his arms. Shiro--sort of melts. He realizes he was reaching for his phone to take a photo a few seconds later, but he ignores that impulse and goes to fill out the papers instead. 

On the way back, puppy on his lap, Keith insists on stopping beside small fields of grass every few minutes so the puppy can "experience what he's been missing", and blowing his budget on hand embroidered collars and toys. In every sense, Shiro should have been annoyed, but as long as Keith kept smiling like that Shiro is fine with spending the day like this.

It's a few days later, when everyone is over at their place and hogging the couch when Lance moves to push Keith playfully on the shoulder and a blur of snarling black fur and teeth leaps at him from behind the couch. "Holy--FUCK!" he screams, scrambling back.

Keith looks on calmly, and Shiro shrugs. "We have a dog," he informs them.                                                                                                                                  "Oh," Lance mocks, still backing up from the dog. "You--you have a dog. Of course. How could I have been mistaken."                                                       

"This is a new development," Allura remarks.                                                         

"He's so cute!" Hunk coos. 

'Of fucking course," Lance is murmuring. "Of fucking course their dog doesn't have a name."                  

"He's really cute," Hunk repeats.                                                                            

"Does Shiro have a name for him?" Allura asks, turning to him.                            

Shiro grimaces, glancing at Keith. "It's whatever Keith wants." He has him whipped. 

"Kosmo," Lance says. "You two awful nerds are getting a dog named Kosmo."                                                                                                                                "He'll tell us when he's ready," Keith frowns, curling protectively around the puppy.                                                                                                                    

"I like Kosmo," Pidge says. 

"His name isn't--"                                                                                                    

"So back to the advice," Pidge cuts him off, and Keith settles back grumpily but listens attentively with one hand still stroking the puppy. "Dogs need lots of love," she says slowly. Keith nods hesitantly. "As a dog parent and your closest friend, I tell you with the utmost respect that you and Shiro need to fuck.”

 Keith sputters, and Shiro rapidly feels all the blood in his body go to his face as Pidge leans in, and repeats with a whisper, "Fuck and the puppy will be better for it." Their other friends all nod quickly.

By the time they kick everyone out, both of their cheeks are flaming. “That was wild,” Shiro says. Keith shrugs, colour high on his cheeks and goes over to check on Kosmo.  He doesn’t really talk the rest of the day, and whenever Shiro brings it up he just flushes. 

It’s later, when Kosmo is asleep that Keith admits it quietly in the moonlight. “I guess Pidge had a point.” he mumbles. 

“What?”

“I-I mean I want the best for Kosmo. And...” Keith’s eyes widen suddenly, glancing behind Shiro.

“Okayheslookingandimgoingtokissyourightnowpunchmeifitsnotokay,” he whispers lightning fast and then he has Shiro’s face in his hands and surges up to kiss him hard. Shiro doesn’t have time to protest or react, but he knows he wants it.

It’s all teeth and bruising pressure and over too quick. 

Keith pulls away slowly, dazed. He slowly untangles his fingers from Shiro’s hair and bolts up from the couch and runs. Kosmo cocks his head at Shiro before following Keith.

(If he hadn't left, maybe he'd have seen the way Shiro slumps back against the couch after, the way he touches his lips. Maybe he'd have still been close enough to hear the blood rushing just under Shiro's skin.) (Shiro likes to think the ending would have been different.) 

Keith avoids him for two days and half a night before he snaps.

Shiro sees him sneaking into the kitchen for dog food in the evening. Shiro had been slipping protein bars under Keith's door, but Kosmo only had the kibble Shiro knew Keith hid in his closet for him.

Shiro sneaks up behind him and slips an arm around his waist before he could second guess himself. "Tell me if this is okay," he murmurs, trying to play cool but hoping the heat in his face isn't visible to Keith. 

Keith halts in his movements, craning his head behind his shoulder to look at Shiro. His eyes are wide and he leans into the touch, explanations for his avoidance on his tongue but Shiro shushes him before he can. "Kosmo is watching," he says, cheeky as he dares. 

Keith sighs and flushes. "I'm sorr--"

Shiro cuts him off, grinning now. "It's fine. We're parents. We make sacrifices." 

"You're a dick," Keith says, but he's smiling a little.

"I'm your dick," Shiro says in an obnoxious overly cheesy voice, nosing into Keith's neck.

And so it begins.

When they're sitting on the couch their usual distance away from each other, one of the make the leap to sit on the other's lap when they notice Kosmo looking.

During breakfast, they spoon feed each other cereal and wash the milk stains out later with one hugging the other's backside against the sink and helping. They don't kiss. 

Sometimes Shiro dares to kiss Keith's cheek, but it's always with an over exaggerated "mwah" sound. 

And he forgets sometimes too. He'll be embracing Keith and forgetting that this is fake.

He'll be carding Keith's hair until they both remember Kosmo is asleep and they spring apart from each other to their separate sides of the couch, coughing and ignoring the silence that falls. 

It's just for Kosmo, he tells himself. 

Just for Kosmo.

Except that he's been in love for so long that when they finish their intimate gestures for the day and go to their respective bedrooms all Shiro can think about is how wrong this is.

It's been three weeks of touching Keith, of "come over here Kosmo is looking and I'm going to put my head on your lap ok" with their eyes and aching when they slump down on the couch after Kosmo goes to sleep. 

 And he can't take it anymore. 

 "Fuck it," he says, when he sees Keith all sleepy and sweet curled up with his paperback. 

He says, "Keith," and then grabs his face and kisses him, hard and sweet and hesitant, like their first one, and it feel so good, so good to just pour it to Keith, all of it. They pull apart and Keith pulls him back in. 

It's later when Keith murmurs, "Kosmo is asleep."

"I know." 

"We don't have to pretend anymore."

"But this," Shiro says, pressing a kiss to the right corner of Keith's mouth, "is so  real."

[antiherotheantisocial]

yes you. wrong <33 mwah mwah mwah! would love to see those notes :)

oh so you being nosy noooow :)

ok well where do i begin.

first of all i love your energy. you just barge into my inbox say all these sweet things and now we're kissing and making out? 🥴💘💞 like you're blushing and i'm giggling and my followers are probably just watching us on the sideline wondering wtf is going on thinking about how annoying we are and ugh it's such a dream come true <33

second of all your mysteriousness is hot, but i'm nosy too!!! like i love that you're sitting on my lap and we're making out but you don't look like you have any lips so how are we kissing? with our glasses? anyways is it ok to cup your face in my hands? what kind of flowers should i buy you? is that wikihow tutorial on how to kiss i looked up 3 minutes before we started kissing effective? do you hate the color of the sky? so many unanswered questions...but whatever your mysteriousness is really too sexy to resist let's just keep kissing some more mwAh mwah mwah!

third of all i love how we keep going back and forth <3 i really like the way you type 👉👈🥺💖❣️