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rise-my-angel · 10 months ago

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Heart of the Great Wolf

32 - Peeking the Realms Woes

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 15.4k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, body shaming, derogatory language, mild descriptions of blood and gore, references to past torture/rape, past character death, smut, public sex, p in v, slight exhibitionism

Notes: If you're hungry for extra content, at the top of the masterlist there are 4 oneshots which are side companion pieces. All canon to the plot but just did not fit into any main story chapter. There's 2 prequel esque chapters, one smut based chapter set in an ambiguous point in the story, and a nsfw alphabet. Just if anyone's curious! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

You had never walked and travelled lands as something called a Queen in any times but war. Not for a second in the Westlands did you nor Robb go anywhere without a number of guard, being in war torn enemy territory. But you also had an army camp anywhere between twenty to thirty thousand depending on where exactly your men were stationed at. You were always around a vast number of soldiers and guard.

In a similar fashion, you were somewhat used to it in Kings Landing. Either you had a flock of hens chattering about behind you at Cersei's insistence of giving you handmaidens. Or you had a guard with you most typically when travelling the streets beyond the Red Keep to the docks and waters but you also lived in a city with what now was likely close to a million people. It was normal to have a guard of at least one.

But here? In the North? It was odd. Trying to implore them to keep their distance most of the time as you appreciated the quiet. Jon had discussed it with Theon, where he felt he fit here now more and gave him his full trust to lead as the Queen's Captain of the Guard. Acting the one in charge knowing exactly when to force them to give you that quiet. It was not a long trip to get here, leaving early and not caring to stop until you reached it, but as soon as you did, they were allowed to stay guard and keep their eyes out but you were thankful Theon knew to force them to give space to what was unfolding.

The raven was simple, coming from Castle Black addressed to you specifically and the moment you had read it, a weight hit you once more. Looking at maps of the land to connect the paths of where exactly to go, knowing it would be a rather simple path to get there if they let you go at the speed you needed to get there quick. Jon was the one who insisted to send people with you, and Theon recognizing the protest about to come from you as he spoke up about gathering a few guards and himself. You had leaned somewhat against the table in a moment alone with a playful raise of one eyebrow, “I know it is a hard thing for you to imagine, but I think I can manage one teenage boy on my own.”

He had all but yanked you into his front at that one, a dark tease in his eyes with a tone that of an playful condescension. “How well did that go for you, when I was the teenage boy?”

Crossing your arms best you could in the space between you, your tone was flat and almost made the playfulness in his grow. “Most boys don't throw girls up against trees to ravage them.” Narrowing his own eyes he leaned down more into your face, feeling his breath dance along his skin as he questioned the word ravage. It was your turn to smirk as his face fell flat. “Oh, so if that wasn't my first kiss you're saying you would have had the restraint not to do anything more?”

His silence almost made you laugh, both of you knowing Jon had no rebuttal to such an accusation.

But it was now as you slowly walked through the snow looking at the remains of once was, and you once more could envision exactly what had taken place here. You knew too well what war looked like and it was easy to see how such a simple village was left in tatters and the remains frozen in time to remind of the pain. If any but him had been left alive, they ran and never returned to this place.

The homes were all small and quaint, much of the decaying remains of tools and lands told you much of their lives and work were outdoors together as a community instead of singular. It made it easy to target, and you knew that's why it would have been picked. It was a village of innocent people and such an atrocity was supposed to draw the Nights Watch out, as was the attack on Mole's Town.

Slaughter innocents to draw the good men out to avenge them, but they knew better and forced the wildling group to them instead. A fight which beyond North was stopped before it ever began with the help of the Baratheon army, but it was Jon's leadership that held off the entire fight from ending before it begun with the ones coming south.

But, that didn't mean the cost of getting them there wasn't devastating.

By the time you had seen Olly, you had such an imagine painted that you knew only agony would be across his heart once reaching where he stood. His back to you as there was one area he hadn't moved from since you arrived, and his eyes likely rarely blinked looking to it. Not easy to see through the snow and ice covering, but it was the remains of bodies. Winter had encroached on them early and what should have decayed to bones was left stuck frozen and the evidence of their use haunting.

No doubt he heard you approach, but it was his pain to address, not yours to guide. You dared not think about how long he had been here waiting, or the heaviness in your heart at how he knew you would come without question. Coming up to his side, you stood close and watched as he did. He had told you what the threat one of them made was, and the degree of mutilation you knew in some mercy was done after death. Easier to carve into a body to eat if they aren't alive to fight back.

You were both quiet for a long time, and when words finally spoke, it was with a shaking breathe stemming from such a heavy heart did Olly finally find the right words to form. “He wasn't the first person I killed.” Your face didn't shift at all, but he knew to elaborate anyways. “Jon. He was the first that meant anything to me...but I killed someone before. The woman who killed my father.”

His eyes were filled already with tears wanting to fall and no doubt the crack in his voice as he continued, threatened to extend to such watering. ��None of us knew they were even there until she killed him. Fell to the ground right beside me, he was already dead before I even knew what had happened to him..and then I looked over and saw her..there was nothing. Nothing in her eyes, she shot him in the neck and didn't even care one bit about it. Just moved on to everyone else..”

Stepping forward, Olly knelt down to the frozen pile as you stepped with him, kneeling as well to stay right by his side with a dutifully quiet listening. “The last thing my mother ever said to me, she just looked at me yelled for me to hide, kept telling me to hide and the second I ran..I didn't see them do it but I heard her scream..”

His hand reached out to something, running over the snow before dropping down now as the tears let themselves fall loose along his cheek. “They attacked us at Castle Black and I shot arrows into her back. I was scared the whole fight..but then I saw her, holding an arrow up and she was going to kill Jon..but then he saw me, and he trusted me to do it. He trusted me to save his life that night, and that was how I repayed her. I wanted her to know what it felt like, the way my father died not seeing it coming..but it didn't hurt. It didn't feel bad not the way it felt when..” His cracked voice fading away, you both knew the words going unsaid.

You looked over to him, eyes flickering away narrowed in thought before looking back. You knew Olly could see you were looking at him, but you didn't beckon him to face you. “I didn't know anything about the first man I killed.” His brows narrowed but he wiped at his tears with the back of his hand but more came anyways in small, silent drops. “Didn't know his name, who he was, barley what he looked like.” Finally his head turned to yours, and there was a long passed distance in your eyes fading out. “I shoved a dagger into his neck and after he fell to the ground, I never thought about him again.” Asking why, you inhaled before looking back to the sight in front of you both.

It had been a long time since you thought about what happened that day. It felt like nothing compared to the ones which followed suit. “They attacked us first. Lord Stark, his men, we were all attacked in the streets of the capitol and the only people we killed attacked us first. They killed three of his own guard that day, men I knew for years. They attacked us, and after I killed one of them another shoved a spear through Lord Stark's leg and everything after that only ever got worse. I didn't think about the fact that I had killed someone until after we had won our first battle. I never thought about that man again after everything else I did. Until right now.”

The winds around you two blew quietly, brushing your exposed faces with dustings of snow picked up from the ground and flying through the air to a new destination. “You were defending yourself.”

“And you were defending Jon, and avenging your family.” Olly exhaled shakily, before nodding a bit. “We all do bad things, but those bad thing's aren't all equal in nature. You don't feel bad for killing her because you were righting the horrible wrong she did to you. But you feel bad for what you did to Jon, because you always knew that was wrong.” He didn't move away as you slowly let your hand sit comfortingly in the middle of his upper back, “We can't pick and choose what we feel guilty for, but the ones that we do is what defines us. You aren't a bad person because you don't feel guilty for killing her, and you aren't one for being forced to kill someone because Ser Alliser made you. People have done far worse in this world then you'll achieve in your lifetime.”

The winds sat between you once more until his voice was but a whisper, “You said that I didn't need to forgive them for what they did..but I would have to learn to live with them..” You nodded, waiting for the detached thoughts to assemble together in his mind. “I don't know if I'm ready for that..but if I stay at Castle Black I'll never know.”

“We can only try. I'm not asking you to make promises, only that you do your best and tell me when it's getting difficult.” Moving your arm across his shoulders, you pulled him more into your side, running that hand up and down what you could reach of his upper arm. “That and perhaps not to get too friendly with knives when alone with the King.”

Olly choked out a laugh as he leaned into you with an exhaustion. You both sat for a good while, as the boy found no energy in him to move anymore. “The snow is too heavy to bury them.”

Nodding, your voice was soft, “So we burn them. Do your mother and father one last thing, and not leave them here like this. We won't leave them to come back when the storm does.” Olly didn't move to get up, but he nodded his head. You wouldn't get up until he was ready. It was his parents he was looking for, and until he was ready to look away once he found them the two of you would sit there.

“Why do you want me around? After what I did..”

A smile easily sat gentle on your face, pulling him a bit closer. “I could ask you the same question.”

Olly's answer though, smacked right into your heart almost making you want to feel those tears sting behind your eyes. “My mother would have liked you.” You didn't need him to elaborate, you understood that with a tightening in your heart right away. Your eyes now watering without letting them drop.

Whispering in a strained silence only for him, “And she wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life punishing yourself for a mistake. So I won't either.” Prompting him to stand as soon as he found the strength to sit back up properly, “Now we give them a proper funeral, and tomorrow you start fresh.”

No one helped you both, but you had given Theon a shake of your head when he moved to ask and he told the rest to leave you both be. He had told you that boy admires you, but Theon watched and came to the same conclusion you previously did. That maybe, you were just the closest thing to a mother Olly had left. Theon also didn't say it, but he certainly noticed how easily acting as one, fell upon your shoulders.

Certain things were undeniable sore spots for many of you now, and breaching such topics tended to mostly be spat between the two of you in jokes. It was easier to cope with what had happened to both of you if you joked about it, but certain ones he still didn't know how to bring up. It didn't pass your notice or Theon's that neither of you came anywhere near any kind of joke or insult coming close to a topic remotely sexual.

You two never had any actual attraction or interest. It was always from jokes in origin. You were pretty and innocent but short tempered and rigid. Theon was older, had a mighty appetite for women and knew you heard every time he snuck girls and whores into his chambers. He'd make a pass at you, you'd refute it with a clever comment and thus back and forth it became a game of wits to who could out sass the other.

Sex was just something you both were opposite about, and it made joking about it between you both far easier then Theon would ever get along with other girls. You never wanted him, he never wanted you and so flirting with you was safe, beacuse you both knew it meant not a thing. Jon had once joked, asking you if you shared that small corridor with Theon, how did you still know so little about sex. All three of them, Jon, Theon, and Robb all laughed at how flustered and offended you got. Saying you didn't actually listen you just heard it incidentally.

But, not once did anything close to subjects like that come up anymore. Not in jokes. Not towards you, and not about Theon's activities. Or lack thereof, now. You and Maester Wolkan were the only ones left who knew about it. Wolkan needed to know, he was the Maester of Winterfell now under Jon and when discussing his health, it had to be known. But you, not once did you ever bring it up. And he was grateful for it.

You weren't there for what happened to him, and he was glad of it. It was an indescribable memory that he some days couldn't piece together. He had meekly begged Ramsay to kill him after, and for a long time he still wished he would. But it got, not easier, but he had learned to cope with it as it would never change. Then Ramsay showed him you in the dungeons.

Theon knew why he was to be the one to serve you in Winterfell. Ramsay wanted him to get used to being around you, so that it would be a horrible shock the day he was dragged into what was being used as your chambers. And the sickening image he recalled, the extent of how violent it had gotten. Images that haunted Theon to the present. It was first night Ramsay made you and Theon watch each others eyes as he did what he did to you. And he only dragged Theon to watch the more Ramsay's appetite for cruelty towards you grew.

He purposely didn't tell Jon about a lot of the things done to you. Really, he had told Jon the truth of what happened to you, but he didn't tell him anywhere near the worst of it. He didn't know how to say it, and Theon knew that you still hadn't told Jon the worst of it, either.

If Theon were to be honest, it was clear that had Jon known the true extent of vile things Ramsay had done to you, he would've beaten him to death in the courtyard that very day they reclaimed Winterfell.

They weren't sights he liked looking back on, he knew it was to torture you as much as it was to torment Theon but it certainly stuck in his mind in the worst way possible. Ramsay had once mocked him about when men lose an arm or a leg and getting a phantom itch where it used to be. Asking if he would feel it now when seeing a naked girl, and he decided it seemed to test such a question out on you.

But he didn't feel that, he didn't look at you in that manner before, and now still he didn't see anything any mind could attain something good from, only horror. It wasn't until Winterfell too, did Theon for the first time find a reason to be thankful for being cut as such. Ramsay's voice so clear in his mind as he was forced to watch one night. You had been in a mood, and thrown a small mirror at Ramsay that smashed into pieces. So the Bolton stripped you down bare and let the broken shards cut into you as he did what he did, grinning at Theon the whole time.

“Maybe once upon a time, I would have made you do this part Reek, have you bond with my bride.”

He wouldn't be able to even look Jon in the eye had it come to that. He didn't know if he could even live with himself if he was to do something like that. He was Ironborn, rape and raid and all as such but that wasn't who Theon was in his blood, and that wasn't the man Eddard Stark raised him to be. So in that very home he once foolishly thought was the true prison, had to stand and watch it happen to you and be selfishly thankful that he was so mutilated that he wouldn't be able to be forced to help.

It was easy for you to joke about things before. What he did before Ramsay, it was so long passed that the transgressions were all but gone in your eyes. To you, if you both joked about it, people wouldn't look at him as if they should still hate him. He still wasn't sure how to thank you for that, nor if you would even want that. Very likely you would tell him to be quiet and go do something else if he tried to thank you.

You two used to hate each other too. Terribly hate one another. Your first week in Winterfell after Theon had been there, and as soon as he realized you were the daughter of Stannis Baratheon did he ever ramp up how rude he was. Didn't matter to him that you were younger and short and a girl, you were the daughter of the man who destroyed his uncle's fleet, and you had a smart ass mouth that he wanted to punch.

He could still see back one day he, Robb, and Jon were attending to something in the stables when you had thrown the door open and threw something at him hard. Jon had to grab him to stop him from instinctively going to hit you back, as you had yelled at Theon for something he now couldn't even recall. He yelled back and soon everyone came to see what was wrong, you got flustered at the attention, shoving passed everyone to leave when the amount of eyes grew. Robb left to go calm you down and shoved Theon into the wall in frustration as he passed.

Lord Stark had later, made you both sit down in his study side by side to force you both to grow up. He had told you that you could not come in and let your temper out on people and if you needed to have an outlet, “Pick up a practice sword in the training yard, and don't return until you're sure you aren't going to try to stab Theon with it.”

On his own, Lord Stark had told him to ease up on you. Robb and Jon had known you for six years at that point and were very close, they knew you well enough to tease. But also that while all three of them were verging on men, you had only recently had your fourteenth name day, that you were still little more then a child. Theon had grumbled, “Doesn't talk to me like one...”

But the man had only chuckled, he too had known you for those same six years and had watched you slowly grow out of your shell tremendously from that very first month. “I'm not asking you to be friends with her, I'm telling you that you both will need to find a way to tolerate the other's existence. You both will be working closely together from now on, and I'd rather not assign a guard to watch you both every moment of the day.”

He had gone back out to the yard, where you and Robb had started to spar. Trying to get your worked up energy out on something useful, and there you were laughing and smiling the more you and the eldest Stark would go. He would compliment how much better you had gotten, and he saw nothing of the bitter, dry and sarcastic little bitch he had initially thought you of.

Now however, watching you with the guard from afar, your eyes soft as your expression was the same harsh and still as ever, but you had your arm comfortingly around Olly, who was leaning into you with shaking shoulders Theon knew were tears. And not for a second did you try to make him feel better or even tell him it would be okay. You were exactly what the boy needed you to be in that moment. This was the village that was ruined in seconds and you stood with him in the cold snow as long as it took for the fire to take what was left of the frozen bodies of his parents and home.

Olly didn't talk to much of anyone as you all made your way to Winterfell. No one asked why an orphan boy from the Night's Watch was leaving there with you, and if the space given to you both as you came into the courtyard said anything, they were smart enough to not speculate either. It wasn't anything they would guess, you were certain of that. No one guessed it, and some days neither you nor the boy himself could believe what led him here.

But there was one thing to do, once you got him settled, notably getting him used to his quarters and around the castle as if a mother would, but if he was to be here, there was one person he needed to talk to. And he had avoided that conversation since the day he ascended the steps from the Ice Cells.

It was the Lord Commander he helped murder, but now it was the King in the North he was to answer too. But as you made your way to give them privacy, Olly had hesitated to speak up asking you to stay before realizing it was not his place. Jon however, caught it well and nodded for you to stay with not a shred of ire or blame in his eyes.

You'd seen the raging red and intense violence that could brew in Jon Snow's eyes but not for a second was such emotions and aggression directed at a child. That wasn't who he was, he in his blood without having to even try, was the man always on the front to protect the innocent.

Including the innocence of a child manipulated into doing something monstrous.

Samwell Tarly could recall a day when one of his brothers had asked him if he had ever dreamt of being back home since arriving at Castle Black, and his answer was blunt as he could have made it. “No, I hated it there.” And it wasn't anywhere near a lie, but it was so much more complicated then that.

No matter what good remained in his memories of home, it was still a place that he resented. He resented the torment, he resented being forced to leave, and he resented that he had to leave a second time all because once more his father refused to see anything worthwhile in him.

He had introduced himself that first day in Castle Black, as if it meant anything to those already looking at him with judging amusement in their eyes. Told to let them know what his name was, and he gave the proper greeting he was raised to introduce himself as only the shaking nerves made it sound pathetic as he spat it out, and rambled further.

“Samwell Tarly, of Horn Hill. I mean, I was of Horn Hill..I've come to take the black..”

Only to have the first thing he heard from any of their mouths, was the spitting Rast laughing to himself, “Come to take the black pudding,” Truly in those first few days Sam was sure his life had gone from one kind of bad to a new without anything to look forward too. Ser Alliser mocked him, encouraged others to mock him, and looked forward to making his recruits knock him into the dirt.

One had stood up in his defence, angry and shoving him away from them all once he grabbed him off the ground. Fighting against the rest of them when Ser Alliser demanded it, and turned around scolding him that it wasn't about to get easier. It was the first time someone had truly come to Sams defence without any expectation in return, and it was a bit off putting to Sam how rough and stern he was about it though. He was so sure, when he was assigned as the mans watch partner up on the Wall, that he hated him, and would rather have nothing to do with him.

Part of it was not being comfortable around such heights, but when he was told to come stand by the fire, Sam didn't want to. He was freezing, but standing by the fire meant having to come closer and annoy the one person who had done something nice for him, so he lied.

Only, it was never that easy trying to lie to someone like Jon Snow.

He said he was fine, and Jon without missing a beat turned to him, “You're not. You're freezing.” After that night, it got easier. A lot easier. He found people and purpose and confidence and a true bravery, he had begun to feel pride in who he had become at the Night's Watch.

But then Jon was Lord Commander, and had returned from Hardhome seeing horrors beyond anything Sam imagined once possible as a boy. Much happened at once, Jon with the intention of opening the gates to let the free folk through, but before that, had told Sam he was sending him to the Citadel.

Maester Aemon was very sick by then, and very old and Jon seemed to decide to utilize Sam's love for learning for the better. Despite the fact that Sam knew too well, Jon had next to no one left. Sure he had Ghost, he had Edd, and the large one Tormund seemed fond of him, but Jon had no family left, no home, most of his friends were dead, and half a year later, Jon still hadn't said more then a few words about you.

He wanted to stay, to not be another person forced to leave Jons life, but it wasn't Sams choice. It was Jons. And he sent him, Gilly and Little Sam to Eastwatch by the Sea anyways. After getting on a ship, it was a port stop in Bravvos with more adventures there then he ever wanted, and finally before settling into Oldtown, Sam knew he had one more stop.

He had to go back to Horn Hill.

Sam had hoped that perhaps the many years since he had left, may have softened his father's ire towards him. His mother Melessa at least, had taken one look at Sam and smiled so brightly he could have cried, a laugh at how good he looked, and how healthy he looked.

Then when introducing Little Sam, an easier explanation to hide where Gilly had come from they told his family he was his bastard son. It was less complicated if they thought he was his blood, even though at that point in Sam's life, he knew what people would think about a man of the Nights Watch with a newborn. But Melessa had adored Little Sam, not once cared for any of the implications one way or another, merely excited to have a grandchild and meet the girl who wooed her son.

Talla was so much older now, while adulthood hadn't changed much in Sam it had made his sister go from a girl to almost a woman, one of the first things from her mouth, “Father says I have to marry Symun Fossoway. He has yellow teeth-” Considering the life he and Gilly had just come from, it was almost sweet she complained it to Sam as if it were the worst to happen to her.

His father and brother were on a hunt, and for only a moment as his mother told him, it made Sam swallow in nerves. He doubted his father had ever told his wife what his plans for Sam were.

“You're almost a man now, but you are not worthy of my land and title. Tomorrow, you're going to take the black. Forsake all claim to your inheritance and start north. If you do not, then we'll have a hunt. And somewhere in these woods your horse will stumble, and you'll be thrown from your saddle to die...or so I'll tell your mother. Nothing would please me more.”

But he was doing this not for himself, he needed this to work. He needed his father to accept Gilly, accept Little Sam so they could have a life. Little Sam would have a better education then Gilly knew she could give him, still on her own reading journey she wasn't anywhere near a teaching level.

He needed his father to look past Sam's own shortcomings just this once. Let them stay, and Gilly wouldn't have to work in a brothel cleaning after women who all called her a “wildling bitch”. She wouldn't be working in Castle Black where at any time they could corner her alone, the worst of his brothers would attack her for being nothing but a woman. They would be safe.

Talla and Melessa had brought them both inside, the former sharing ideas of what guest room Gilly could have as if she had any concept of the luxury being offered. His mother warming his heart, telling him quietly that she couldn't be happier seeing her son with something so proud to look at. But then his father and brother came home.

Dickon wasn't as openly gleeful like his mother and sister, but Sam also knew that the two brothers were indeed happy about to see one another. Dickon had accepted the explanation, and begun going over things on his mind as if no time between all these years had passed. He was tall, strong, capable, and skilled just like his father but he had, like Sam, inherited their mother's kindness.

Sam also wondered, how much of why Sam left, did his father not tell his brother either?

Who knew but his father he had threatened to murder him for simply growing to be who he was? And sure, Sam all those years ago knew he wasn't proud of himself. He was a coward, he was shy, he had no idea what his purpose was, but now? Sure, he thought he was still some of those things to a degree, but now he at least knew when it came down to it, he would push forward for the people he loved. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't anywhere near enough, not for his father.

Sam preferred to read over learning to hunt, and his father hated that about him. Hated that his nose was always on a book rather then learning from whatever nightmare his father was putting him through that day. But it was the way one man at Castle Black had said those words to him, discussing how Sam wasn't a fighter like his father.

It was Stannis Baratheon who told him with a pride in his eyes and voice, as he realized Sams goal was to search the old manuscripts for answers of the threat far North.

“We have to know how to fight them. Keep reading, Samwell Tarly.”

The King who answered their call for aid, the King who still cared, had seen Sam's worth in his love of books and learning. Had not looked at him judgmentally for it, and instead seen him for something Sam could provide which others couldn't.

Yet, that night as he sat at the table with his father, mother, Talla, and Dickon, and at his own side Gilly and Little Sam, his father looked no more happy with him then the day he left. Dickon would ask what beyond the wall was like, and when Sam was honest that all of the food he had from the wild was hunted by Jon, his father found it pathetic. As if Jon being the fitter, stronger one who knew how to hunt was shameful against Sam who simply had no talent for it.

Gilly knew how to hunt, but she didn't shame him for it. Jon had hunted all of the animals the two of them ate beyond the wall and he didn't judge Sam for letting him do that work.

When Gilly had mentioned she knew how to hunt, especially rabbits, Melessa had not been phased, only knowing enough to say Gilly was from the North. “I imagine it’s common where you’re from. We once met a man, Lord Umber from Last Hearth, wasn’t it, Randyll, who said he taught all his daughters how to hunt.” Talla had been impressed on her own, looking at Gilly, “Your father taught you to hunt? Our father would never teach us. I think our father could learn a thing or two from your father.”

Agitated with the conversation, when Sam had politely went to accept bread from one of the servers, his father had dismissively scolded him, “Not fat enough already?” And it all had begun to spiral from there. “I thought the Night’s Watch might make a man of you. Something resembling a man at least. You managed to stay soft and fat. Your nose buried in books. Spending your life reading about the achievements of better men. I’ll wager you still can’t sit on a horse or wield a sword.”

Sam wanted to tell him he could ride a horse, he killed a Thenn, he killed one of the Others with nothing but a dagger made from dragonglass to protect Gilly and Little Sam. But he wasn't here to convince his father of that, and Sam could tell that Gilly wanted to bring it up in his defence, and had spoken of it before he could come up with a way to change the subject. Once the image of Gilly being North of the wall was out there, there was no hiding who she was.

Sam wasn't ashamed of it, nor did he care how people looked at him for it. But he certainly did not like how instantly, instead of making any notion of Sam breaking his vows, he had taken his ire out on him through Gilly. Randyll Tarly pointing to a shining, sharp blade. Sat on a wall mount made out of antlers, the hilt of it shaped as that of a bow and arrow with such images carved deeply into the wood surrounding it, whereas the rest of it looked little to stand out. “It’s called Heartsbane. It’s been in our family for five hundred years. It’s Valyrian steel. Only a handful of them left in the world. It’s supposed to go to my firstborn son after I die. To him.” Gesturing to Sam in the dead silence of the room, “But he will never wield that sword. If he were to become Lord Tarly of Horn Hill, it would be the end of this house. I took you for a Mole’s Town whore when I saw you and I made my peace with that. Who else would have him? But I overestimated him. No. It was a wildling whore that seduced my son.”

Turning back to his son, he was standing tall but no one else moved an inch, and everyone but him, was greatly uncomfortable as he grew more spiteful. “This you getting back at me, boy? Bring that to my table and making me dine with it. And you got what you were after, didn’t you? A bastard. A half-breed bastard.”

Melessa had stood, disgusted by his blatant hatred, guiding Gilly and Little Sam away with Talla following. Slowly leaving last was Dickon who stayed silent, wishing he had the bravery to stand up for his brother's side instead of saying nothing.

Sam was angry, however. Gilly being a wildling didn't make her any less of a person. And there certainly wasn't anything wrong with being a bastard. Jon was a bastard of the North, and was the most admirable man Sam's ever known, a far better man then the father before him.

Randyll had approached his son, now standing with a held back anger of his own looking up at the man. “Your mother’s a fine woman. You’re not worthy of her. To please her, I’ll take the wildling in. She can work in the kitchens. The bastard will be raised here. But this will be the last night you ever spend at Horn Hill.”

It was a risk, but he had left, and taken them with him. Gilly and Little Sam were his family, and they all belonged together, so they took what little they had and left in the middle of the night. Perhaps it had been childish or maybe it was the first brave act of rebellion against his father he found the courage to do, but he had taken Heartsbane with him, saying it was his families sword after all, not his fathers.

When Gilly had asked if his father would come for it, Sam said with the only pride he had.

“He can bloody well try.”

As you sat there in Maester Wolkan's study, you supposed you were lucky that no one saw what led up to it. Wrapping the underside of your forearm as you tried not to shake from the blood loss that took place as you made your way to see him in the first place. He no doubt had heard the whispers of you losing your mind by that point, but took no question that you simply said your hand had slipped. It became a problem however, when Jon had come into the room with tense eyes as he stared at you as if hiding a horrible secret.

“What happened?” His voice was tight and controlled likely a bit too much to not come off as trying to hide such intentions. Stepping closer to where Wolkan had you perched on a stool so your arm could lay flat as he previously had been stitching the worst of it.

He answered for you when you had paused with wide eyes, “Her hand slipped with a blade, she came to me before it could get out of hand.”

Jon watched how hesitant you were to speak and you both knew that he had realized why. Taking the moment he kept a more controlled volume, despite the twisting of angry worry in his face as he spoke to you instead. “Out of hand? The amount of blood I just saw-”

Wolkan kept his cool and you thanked him with a silent glance. “The wound is deep but it didn't cut a vein. It will heal easily and she got to me at the perfect time to clean and close the wound. Little things to be thankful for, sometimes.”

Inhaling deeply, Jon watched silently as your eyes nervously flickered between him and Wolkan, the later wrapping the rest of your forearm now that the worst of the bleeding had stopped. “You should come see me in the morning.” Putting away some of his tools as you pulled your arm gently into your lap. “I will want to check for any sign of infection, and regardless I will rewrap your dressings and clean it out.”

Nodding at him, you felt a strain in your chest as you raised an eyebrow at him, a silent unrelated question Jon could not see, but Wolkan only hummed quiet in an answer that spoke what none could gather but you two. Moving to politely held you stand from your perched position, but Jon had already stepped to your side, an arm wrapping around your waist to all but do the hard work for you, lifting you up and to the ground as he spoke. “I appreciate you helping her, Maester Wolkan. Thank you.”

“Always what I am here for, your grace.” It was a stroke of luck you felt that being sworn by oath to a family of monsters did not mean it made the maester for them the same. Getting to Winterfell at the captive of the Boltons and realizing they brought Wolkan with them, you knew it meant for whatever reason Luwin was gone and you dared not think what led to it or why.

There was getting used to Wolkan, but he did his best under the leadership he was put under and at the least was a little bit easier going in the time he had seen you in those months of a hell. The man was quiet but kind and very smart. On the relieving side, serving Jon seemed to bring him far more peace then years under the Boltons ever did.

You hoped that for just right now, it meant he could keep another secret just until you could ensure that secret's safety. A raven had come in for you, and after reading it's contents as you had finally settled back into Winterfell, you told him to keep the information to himself. With what you now knew, this one needed to be protected and that included ensuring it was somewhere not out of your reach and protection before revealing it safely.

Jon leading you through the quiet of the halls, you had glanced up to him from the side noting he had not moved his arm from your waist. “Do I even need to ask how it was you knew where to find me?”

Instead of what you expected, a deep chuckle vibrated through Jon's chest instead, pulling you a bit closer to his side playfully. “Next time don't choose a steward who used to be mine, and maybe he wouldn't tell me right away.” Only half a smile on your face, you almost could shake your head at the thought. You had told him to clean the blood up and not go get someone as it wasn't a big deal, but Olly had clearly not listened as soon as Jon came into the room with questions at the sight.

You didn't know what the two of them talked about, but they had been in the study for a while before coming to a conclusion, and that it was likely a little easier for Olly to serve Jon through you rather then jump back into his service as if it was just like before. A new trend in Jon's life it seemed. Getting used to someone who backstabbed him or his family though their forgiveness in you.

Continuing beside you, “He was worried about you, don't blame him.” Ensuring you didn't, Jon nodded before glancing around. Turning you with both hands at your upper arms, did he direct you to stop and face him, keeping his hold there as his grey eyes were bright but worried looking down at you. Your own hands, one wrapping around a wrist of his and the other toying along his waist distractedly. “He also said when he came into the room it had sounded like you had been screaming.”

You bit your lip but Jon didn't even blink, just a building concern swimming in his gaze that had you weak to it. Shrugging a little bit, you tried desperately to play it off. “It was nothing, he probably-” Jon more sternly murmured your name as his head tilted a bit with a sharper look as if warning you to not lie to his face about this. Quiet as you looked into his eyes before dropping them as your face fell a bit, “Last time I don't even recall getting out of bed, but I was wide awake and..I didn't even realize I had even dropped the blade across my arm until Olly came in the room..”

Olly wasn't sure to believe you when you said it wasn't a big deal, but you knew you couldn't get Jon to believe that in any capacity. Not now. His own expression falling almost a bit more upset, one of his hands came up to run along the hair at the side of your face before cupping your cheek. “Was it the same as last time?” Shaking your head no, Jon glanced down the corridor but still none were around at least. “What was it?”

There was only two you recognized this time, but it was two you had seen before in the last. One woman, a bit older then you, hair almost a silver white and a cold, yet smug look as she had cared not for the pleading. The one with her though, was the Westeros knight you had seen before but his face escaped you from knowing the name attached to it.

But the mind you found yourself in? The things which happened, and the lack of any emotion on her face but perhaps that of some enjoyment, it shocked you. Even coming out of it, it shocked you. The mind you looked through was not someone good, but there was a conflicted mess of emotions swirling in their mind.

The way he ended though, the way she let it happen? It didn't matter what occurred, there was not a thing even a man like that could've done which would have made him deserve that. Perhaps you felt so shaken, as you felt the screaming agonizing heat as he did in the seconds before your mind returned to you, blood across your arm as Olly called your name in a panic.

But trying to relay that properly to Jon? It was hard to explain. It was hard to word how terrifying it felt, the way she looked at him as he was pleading desperately for any mercy.

“Dany, please-”

Jon stared at you in a distant unnerved manner, this was the second time the same woman was at the centre of both. Looking up at him, you could feel your throat burning from the desperation and your heart racing as it recalled the fear of how uncaring she looked at him through your eyes. Murmuring your name fading into a tense quiet, Jon moved his other hand from your upper arm to wrap around your back and pull you into him.

He hadn't mentioned it, but he had seen the way you almost disappeared in the hall during the reception. The way you looked sick and terrified for only moments when he gently coaxed you back to earth before you were kept too deep into whatever it was you saw or heard. He knew trauma, and that was far more then just a memory. He didn't say it, but the way he held you close told enough, that whatever was pulling your mind here and there was beginning to scare him.

The worry that if he left you on your own too long again, what could this escalate too before you hurt yourself even more? How was he supposed to protect you from something he couldn't even slightly control? Jon knew his entire life at that point was strange, unexplained things happening to him, but they weren't supposed to happen to you. They weren't supposed to leave you looking this shaken and panicked at what you were seeing.

Muffled against him, you tried to reassure him, “We've been through a lot in a short amount of time, maybe it's only stress.” Jon shortly muttering back a question of is it, before you paused. Holding him around the back of his neck more, “No one has ever died and come back, this could be normal.”

“I saw visions of you before and they were nothing like this.” Inhaling deeply once more you could hear his voice was deep and tight trying to keep himself collected against you. “Something is doing this to you, but I don't know how to help.”

Pulling back, you found the need in your heart straining to quell the tone break in his voice. Cupping both sides of his cheeks, you hated the concern so blatantly across his eyes. “You can't protect me from everything, Jon.”

Shaking his head once, he grabbed one of your hands to twist. Pressing a kiss to your palm, “That won't stop me from trying.”

But for just a moment, the way in which his large hand gripped part of your hand and wrist did you not stand there anymore. Looking up brightly at not the man your present mind knew was in front of you, you were sitting. In a room glowing with gentle firelight as innocuous music played around you that set nothing in your mind off.

You had your hand rushing towards him in a much more playful manner when he snatched you just like this, holding it in the air just like this but a smirk across his lips and bright blue eyes tinged with a complete mischief as he pulled you a bit closer.

“Striking your King is an act of treason.”

But as soon as you could see Robb, you were back here. In the halls of Winterfell as Jon murmured your name with that same panic returning to his eyes. Instead you pulled your hands down to rest over where the carve in his heart was. You looked much more reassured then Jon did, despite the floating in your chest warning you that this was starting to happen at an alarming frequency.

Changing subjects swiftly was the safest route, which worked easily to bring him down to something simmering in his shoulders. “Come, we have a bit to do before we meet with everyone. At least have our affairs prepared before we get yelled at for it.”

Jon relaxed, chuckling again as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “This is my order, I'll be the one getting yelled at if anything.” As you both made your way down the corridor once more, you shook your head with a sigh. “I'd rather they be angry with me then you.”

“I think that ship has long since sailed, Snow.”

A smirk so much easier danced across Jon's lips as he tried his best to walk forward and not just shove you into the nearest wall. “You know that one doesn't work quite as well when it's your name too now, Snow.” His tone dropping with a playful prominence on the name as well as he glanced at you trying to hide your own smirk.

“What are you going to do, your grace?” Pushing it a little as you didn't even glance at him letting the words pass you by with a quick dryness. “Going to punish me for using our name against you?”

And with that you had snapped the restraint he held. One hand on your hip now as he shoved you into the wall roughly, his other trapping you in as his palm rested on the stone wall beside your head, leaning close enough so your world vision was hidden with his curls. Grey eyes dark, looking down you with not a shred of shame for it before following it back up. Not even with a smirk, almost just a raw, dark, frowning lust that he couldn't contain. Like he did these things without any thought behind it.

The hand on your hip tightening, “I should punish you for taking my name in the first place.” Stepping closer he could almost press his hips into yours should he take a step more, as you felt the hand on your hip fisting the skirt of your dress as it raised slightly. His breath stuck hot against your skin, taking another step, feeling a teasing press of his hardening cock that almost made your mind beg and plead to just open your legs for him now, regardless of how anyone could see. The hand beside your head drifting down to your hair and raking his way through to the back of your neck, he tilted your head up to meet his eyes gently.

Your voice but a high pitched whisper as the blood in your veins sparked you like a spreading fire. “Too bad my King has a meeting with his high lords to prepare for. Not nearly enough time for that.”

You didn't mean it as a challenge, but you should have known better. You were in the hall where any could pass by, but as Jon pressed you up against the wall anyways it didn't matter. His hands grabbing your wrists and yanking them up above your head, switching to hold you there with one larger hand as the other yanked your dress up for him, his lips attacking yours rough and deeply.

As soon as he felt your bare skin under his touch, his mouth moved to your jaw and neck with sloppy kisses but rough bites as he rasped in you ear. “My men also expect their King to fuck an heir into his beautiful wife. I'm doing my duty.”

Shivering in his touch your fingers flexed wanting to reach out to him, voice barley there as his mouth continued to bite into your neck, his fingers of his other hand drifting under the soft fabric hiding you from his touch. “Is that all this is?” Holding back a high gasp as his fingers drifted down to run lightly along your wetness, “Not a very appropriate way of doing such a duty, my King. Where anyone could find us.”

Pulling back, his eyes darkening to a black as he stared you down, finding your clit with the wetness on his fingers as you jumped. The hold on your wrists tightened as you did so. Jon rubbing tight, rough circles into it and breaking your resolve as you melted into his touch. “Maybe they should find us.” Your lungs tightened as you opened your mouth to cry out as the pleasure burned into the roughness of your clit as he was relentless of the pace. Mouth trailing up to your ear as he roughly snapped his teeth into it as he hissed, “Make sure I'm doing right by my new wife and watch me take you apart. I'd have showed off how good you are for me on our wedding night, if it didn't also mean any of them had to touch you as well.”

Letting the touch on your clit slide down, Jon sunk those same two fingers deep to the knuckle inside of you with no hesitation, the heel of his palm roughly rubbing into the sore nub sparking you to cry out loudly. Jon capturing you lips with his to muffle whatever echo was left in you.

Running firmly along the sensitive wall inside of you, you arched into his touch as much as you could. Letting his lips steal your whine of his name into his mouth, and returning such a gift by sliding his tongue into yours.

Thankful the thin material was still there, collecting the otherwise unseemly evidence of how wet Jon's fingers were being soaked as your hips tried desperately to grind into his touch. The hand keeping your wrists above your head slipping down finally, grasping the side of your face near your jaw as he kept your mouth firmly against his.

Licking along your tongue with greed as he increased how deep and fast he fucked his fingers into your soaked core. Your hands raking through his curls in an instant as Jon pressed his hips firmly into yours before moving to grasp over your dress at your breasts, groping tightly before finding the collar of your dress and slipping under the fabric.

His fingers inside of you moving fast and soaked as you felt the coil twisting and begs for mercy unheard in Jon's kiss but how roughly he grasped, twisted and almost tugged on your nipple under you dress had you gasping desperately. Jon's incessant touch pulling you right over that line and your orgasm flooded between your legs as he still kept himself tasting inside of your mouth. As soon as you arched up and seized, the feeling washing across your veins and limbs with a cry as it snapped inside of you, your own hands reached down.

Hands almost shaking and fumbling as you tried to work past his layers as you still clenched around his fingers with a bit of a jump at the aftershocks still hitting your core from your orgasm. Pulling from your mouth Jon looked down to your hands before leaning to nudge your nose with his, taking over for you with much more ease even with one hand. Only undoing enough that he could reach into his breeches and pull his cock out.

Jon pulling from your wetness and two fingers soaked, he reached up so they sat obscenely at your lips before pushing them just as deep to the knuckle despite your whine, moving to sloppily kiss back along to your ear as his other hand yanked your dress up enough to manoeuvre under it. Almost looking back at you for a moment as he let you suck, before he pulled them from you and once more kissed you. Your tongues sliding along the other as he much more freely groaned at the heavy taste on his own tongue.

But just as you grasped at his shoulders in need, Jon yanked up one of your legs to rest at his hip, pushing you more into the wall just as he slid his cock deep inside you. Your cries in his mouth almost painful as the thick stretch burned but you arched into his touch. His hand on your thigh as the material slid down your leg and almost exposed what Jon was doing, holding it up tight at his hip as he fucked up roughly inside of you with a grunt.

This wasn't a fuck made to last, his pace was fast and he was rough and pounding where you could hear how soaked you made is cock in an instant. His free hand cupping your jaw as he pulled back to look at you, teeth almost gritting as his eyes black watched you try desperately to hold back any sound.

His cock burned you, made you want to scream and run from the pain of how long and thick he slid inside you, but the pleasure taken from you left you unwilling to fight back and raking through his curls tightly. As if all you knew to do was take it. Jon's eyes were dark as he looked down at you, each pound of his cock jostling you as he wished he could strip you bare then and there to watch better.

On the contrary though, his deep tones washed over with something so bright and soft as he looked at you, “I love you so much..” The degree to which you clenched around him had Jon bury his head in your neck to hide his own groans. Your hands gentle now through his curls as his cock rutted deeply into you.

Nodding into him, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and up into his hair, your voice weak as your lungs held no air trying to keep any cries from your words and little able to come out as a result, “I- fuck, I'm yours..”

Another groan as he picked up the pace and slammed his cock inside of your soaked cunt at a rough and fast pace before biting deeply into your neck. Nodding into his biting, Jon yanked the leg at his hip up high and shoved you more against the wall at a better angle to fuck up inside you, but completely exposing how deeply he was fucking you should anyone walk by the side where your dress was slipped down.

You shook at how it almost felt as if Jon wanted someone to come by and see what he was doing to you. Yet unbeknownst to why, Jon desperately did. He never had this inclination before, but his new life with you, buried inside you, Jon was consumed with a few dark desires. One of them almost challenging his men to watch what they could never give you.

He hated how depraved of thoughts they could become. Jon pounded into you harder at the images in his mind taking over. What it would be like, having you pressed against the wall just like this, but making you face away, your back pressed against his chest and instead Jon would pull his head from your neck, rest his forehead against the back of your hair and watch his cock sink deeply into your ass, and how much the plush skin of your cheeks would bounce at the force.

Jon didn't think he knew how to ask you for that. You weren't some whore that men paid for, you were the woman he loved more then anything, his wife. But he couldn't stop himself as he fucked you fast against the wall. How filthy would it feel to spill deep inside your ass, or how much he wanted to lay you out, and shove his cock to fuck between your breasts after marking them up all for him with his lips and teeth.

He had no idea why he was consumed with thoughts like this, but the way you grasped at him, clenched around him and let him fuck you as if you were designed for his lips and cock alone, was doing something to his desires he never knew about before.

You hid in his shoulder, weakly crying his name as you suddenly came around him. The coil snapping after twisting so burning tight as you were pulled up to meet his lips. Jon biting and kissing you deeply as you came around him, before you felt his cum. Thick and hot as he spilled deeply inside of you, grinding deep until you clenched around him in too much shocking stimulation.

He shushed you with gentle kisses as you whined as he pulled out. Putting your leg back down gently, and cupping both of your cheeks tenderly with a kiss as he put both of your clothes back where they belonged. It was quiet between you both for a moment, gently tracing your noses along the other as you smoothed out the curls you had raked though until you felt your heart slow and world return to your vision outside of Jon.

Leaning up to give a tiny kiss, you looked back. His grey eyes bright with a smile charming off his face as you almost grinned back with a beam. “Now we are certainly going to be late.”

You honestly could have rolled your eyes, if he hadn't captured your lips in another kiss as Jon muttered, “Oh, I'll make sure of that.”

These Starks thought they were so terribly clever didn't they?

It was not an easy thing to do, making a Northern man cry. Reputation made people think that they never did because they couldn't. Unemotional and cold in heart as the winter around them, but in truth it simply was just held inside them securely.

It had been the first time in a long time that he cried, the day Howland Reed learned of Eddard Stark's death.

His son Jojen had seen it, he had the Sight. With no reason to doubt what his son had said, it hurt him greatly to realize he was the last of them. Everyone that had played a pivitol role in some capacity in Robert's Rebellion and all of them but him died before their time. But then again, they all had before their final days anyways.

Something in a lot of them died near the end of that war and no one had quite found a life beyond it, in a way they all were trapped in the rebellion twenty five years later until the last of them died too. Jon Arryn had been first. The brave man who had to make the hard choice of rallying his bannermen against the Mad King, died of a fever, but Howland knew better. He knew Ned would have known better as well.

Then it was Robert, the most obvious of them all. Robert had never lived passed learning that Prince Rhaegar Targaryean had kidnapped Lyanna Stark somewhere along the roads near Harrenhal. He became angry then and he stayed angry until his last day no doubt. He was a wild card, especially when contrasting him to the man Ned Stark used to be. Even looking past a man dedicated to the wife he loved, it was not in his nature to be like Robert.

Robert had bastards all over the country. The ones in Kings Landing were dead, but there were more out there. A man who drank and whored to that degree? Stones, Flowers, Waters, he likely had at least one in all of the Kingdoms. Most of them would just never know it. He could recall it was that nature which she hated.

Lyanna knew who Robert was at his worst, and the simple fact was she also knew that was a life many highborn girls would find themselves fated too. Rare for a highborn girl to have a husband like the way Catelyn Tully had eventually found love in Ned Stark. But in those days, Lyanna's prospects were looking at a lifetime of being insulted by her husbands infidelity.

Ironic, he thought.

But, it never got any better for Robert. He thought he loved Lyanna when he hardly knew a thing about her, and it was that thought which made him angry realizing what Rhaegar had done. And when Ned Stark came back from the war and she was dead? He stayed angry.

Howland only knew bits and parts of the story some from Ned, much from what Jojen could see but it wasn't pretty. Rhaegar Targaryean had been dead for twenty four years and Robert hated him as much then as he did that day they learned what he had done. He wished Baratheons were made a little more of what Northerners were. Just keep some things inside.

But, it was Ned Stark who Howland Reed cried for. Not many knew how deep their bond ran and none but the two of them knew why. They didn't often have the chance to see one another after the rebellion, and even less when Howland finally had his kids but they spoke in writing still. Just not willing to leave his home when he had them. Finally through the horror, Meera and Jojen were Howland's blessings and he missed them terribly.

He knew why they had to go, why they had to go to Bran Stark and now Howland could only hope that somewhere beyond the wall his children were still alive. But, Ned Stark still wasn't and it ate away at him since the years the Lannisters took his head. He hadn't come out since then. Ned died and Howland hid in his Keep in Greywater Watch, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't anymore. He didn't know what would do it, but he knew it was coming.

But then he'd remember he was the last one. Not just of the men of those days, but the last one who knew. What was he to do with that information, he knew much many didn't. Much that Ned knew, much that Lyanna didn't want people to know and a lifetime of keeping it all inside making him turn inward at how stonewalled he needed to be to contain them.

But there was only one secret that mattered, one that was why Ned Stark had spent the rest of his life trapped within the traumas of rebellion. The reminder of that truth was there for him every single day and when it wasn't he was in a place that served to haunt him with what would happen should the worst come out. Come be Hand of the King Robert said, come to the place your brother and father burned alive trying to demand safe rescue of your sister.

Come witness a place that terrified him to have such a secret be in. But he kept that secret as far North as he could get once those days came knocking. It was all he could do to keep that secret safe still.

It was late at night as Howland finally left. Travelling on his horse along the Kingsroad. Winter was everywhere now, and it didn't slow him one bit. His horse would have to freeze and die to slow this journey down and even then he would keep going. Someone had to keep that secret safe and Howland was all that remained so he had to show his face. But it was along the road that he relived it. He and Ned's reason for why they became the men they were and the complications of what it all meant.

Still now he could recall how in one moment a young girl off in the distance had spotted what was happening, and how as quick as he saw her did she come to his aid. The girl likely no older then fourteen or fifteen, came to the aid of Howland who was even then, already a man. He had been jumped by boys over six years his junior in the roads towards the Tourney of Harrenhal. But, Howland Reed was small and quick. Not large and strong. They were though.

Yet that young girl with black hair and grey eyes came jumping to his defence without a second thought, using only a dull tourney sword to try and chase the boys attacking him off. How she that day brought him to her lair, as she had jested calling it, to get her brothers to help treat his wounds. He met all four Starks that day.

Brandon was the eldest, tall and handsome and had a quick wit and hot temper just as he had seen on the she wolf who rescued him. Benjen was the youngest, only a few years beneath Lyanna in age but laughed easily and held a maturity Howland admired. Offering him armour and a horse, saying if he wanted to get back at the boys who beat him he'd be happy to provide them.

He could still recall the way he and Benjen teased how quickly from a feirce defender Lyanna went, to a watery eyed girl. Hearing a sad song from the beautiful singing voice of Prince Rhaegar, and how she poured her drink on her brother for making fun of her. It was funny then, beacuse it was such a childishly little girl reaction.

It wasn't funny now looking back on it.

Beacuse she was a child. Howland was close in age to the Prince, so it made what followed after all the more horrifying. A pretty, feirce, rebellious maiden did not come to his rescue. Lyanna was just a hot tempered but caring and loyal child. Only a child.

But, he met one more Stark that day. Eddard Stark was the second eldest brother, not quite as well liked and charmingly handsome as Brandon, but more quiet and serious. Howland liked him right away. He liked all four of them he met that day, but he and Ned remained friends with a true ease from that moment onward. A friendship, that all these years later, still felt difficult to accept the end of.

They hadn't known each other for a lifetime, but it was Howland Reed that was trusted with the one thing which would remain only between them for the rest of their lives. And Howland never once wavered in how seriously he took that secret to heart. He could see that secret as clear as he could see that day he met the family of wolves.

It was warm that day. So warm in Dorne that Howland hated it. The sun bore down on them as they travelled, the seven of them, and not a clue what they were walking in on. Not really. The Prince's Pass was their destination, a circular tower standing high in the sky against the backdrop of the Red Mountains. There was hardly anything around it. It was chosen on purpose of course.

One could get to it from Harrenhal without much difficulty and yet it was isolated. Where if they ran from it, where would one go were these sands not their home? It felt like an insult towards Elia Martell to keep a teenage girl in the tower she gifted to her husband, but it also felt like a way to force the girl into relying on who she was trapped with. Even if she escaped, where would she go on her own?

There were seven of them though, and he saw all clear as day. Eddard Stark was at his limit of what he could put up with. Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar at the Trident, The Mad King was dead and yet all who died gruesomely were still gone. Everyone knew what happened no matter what Tywin Lannister later claimed. He had ordered his knights Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch to find and kill Elia Martell and her children.

The mountain had ripped the still infant Aegon from his mothers breast and smashed his face against the wall so hard that only blood and bone remained to him. Then dripping in his blood, he had raped Elia before splitting her in half with his greatsword. In the same royal apartments, hiding under her fathers bed, little Rhaenys had been dragged from under it by Lorch and brutally stabbed over fifty times.

And all Robert could say were that they were “dragonspawn�� and cared not for dead, innocent children soley because they were Rhaegar's. Ned had argued with him at how disgusting his lack of care was and left Kings Landing alone. Meaning thankfully, Robert was no where near the Tower of Joy that day.

Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Ethan Glover, Mark Ryswell, Willam Dustin and of course, Eddard Stark and Howland Reed. Seven good men, skilled men who were as serious as any Northerners and as determined as the brother who was there for the sister still kept away from him.

There were three in the distance. Their white cloaks blowing in the wind, they had not the threat of being out numbered and all knew why. They were there on orders and not once in the war left, it was insulting. Their vows as knights not more important then the thing they were there for, to keep a girl hostage. But, they were Kingsguard, and dangerous ones too.

On one side, Ser Oswell Whent was knelt down on one knee, sharpening his blade with a wetstone. On the other was Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, who stood with his greatsword, Dawn, hung over his right shoulder, a sad smile sat on his face.

Between them was Ser Gerold Hightower, The White Bull and commander of the Kingsguard who stood tall and stern between them. The men all stood at attention as Ned Stark stepped forward first, trying to find any peace when all knew there would be none. Were there going to be peace, they wouldn't be here in the first place.

Ned stood as tall as could be, and as calm as he managed. “I looked for you on the Trident.”

Ser Gerold was the one to respond, taking proper command of the situation for as long as it was leading to the inevitable. “We were not there.”

Beside him with all the confidence that felt both true yet unearned, Ser Oswell spat out “Be the end of the usurper if we had been.” Howland recalled thinking if they considered Robert a usurper, then perhaps they should have done their duty and worked to prevent such a thing from happening, but they either did not have such clarity or were blinded by their own hubris.

His face squinting harshly in the bright sun that was a mixture with the anger and impatience building within him, Ned continued past the offence. “When Kings Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your King. Your Prince lays dead now at the Trident, and I could only wonder then where you were.”

But Ser Gerold defended their failures of duty as if it was an excuse which mattered to any here. “If we had been there, Aerys would still sit on the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in all seven hells.”

It was only after that day, did Howland recall that and he wondered to himself on the journey North, perhaps the Kingsguard were not noble knights to be remembered as brave and valiant, if the final legacy they left behind was this.

Ned had only one plea and all knew it wouldn't work, but he would give them that option no matter what. “The Lords and Knights of the Seven Kingdoms have bent the knee in their defeat. There is none left for your orders to follow.”

Ser Arthur had moved to take his helmet into his hand, a firm but sad look of a man sure of who he was and what he was doing. “Our knees do not bend easily.”

Beside him Ser Gerold only added to their fates. “Nor do we flee our duty. We are Kingsuard. We swore a vow.”

But all men there, the three standing in the way of the tower and the seven against them all knew what vow it was they were still defending. As each remaining six of them came to Ned's side, weapons in hand, Ser Arthur donned his helm finally, and spoke what was to be his last. “And now it begins.”

Eddard Stark however, spoke the truth for more then one of them that day. “No, now it ends.”

Just as the metal of their swords clashed, from the tower was heard Lyanna Stark desperately screaming, “Eddard-” as the fight ensued to get to her.

Three men against seven and all but two remained. Ned Stark and Howland Reed were the only ones who lived to see the end of that fight and it was a bloody horrid sight. But once they were dead, Ned spared not a single second as he ran up the steps of the tower to get to his sister.

Howland stayed behind for a moment, exhausted and nerves shot he looked to the men at his side fallen now and hoped and begged that they did not die in vain. It took him a moment to do so, but with heavy footsteps did he begin the climb of the tower himself.

It was dark inside, not many had been in here for a long time that could tend to much of anything. But it was what was in the air, that made Howland feel a lurch of sickness. The air was thick with the scent of blood and roses.

As he approached the door, he could hear the strained voice of Lyanna Stark in a quiet desperation, filled with a heavy love that radiated too with fear. He heard the faint pleas of her voice which was the last any would, though the door the words, “Promise me, Ned.”

Only even as Howland Reed stood outside of it, Lyanna and Eddard Stark were not alone in that room.

Winterfell was as sturdy as it had been in years. Work still being done to rebuild what was burned down and yet it was still impressive. But Howland Reed was here when he never came before. He didn't come for Robb Stark, and tried to ignore the raven from Castle Black from their once dead Queen.

He didn't answer that call of aid until he had received the news that Eddard Stark's final remaining child, his bastard son, had been crowned King in the North. Howland showed up then, and the very second he saw his face? He felt sick. As if he had never considered the truth of this secret until then and there.

Ned had watched him grow up every day of his life, but Howland had never met him until he walked quietly and unnoticed, into the meeting hall of Winterfell. Hidden amongst the other Lords. Finally understanding that he too, had not truly lived passed that day at the Tower of Joy.

But, upon the truth that Aegon Targaryean was not only living, but had landed in Westeros and had battle first on the island of Dragonstone? There was no words in Howland's mind to describe how it felt, realizing who his opponent in battle had been. Perhaps that was why he rode to Winterfell so quick.

If he had not been too cowardly to come face to face with the memory of a ghost, Howland Reed might have been there to prevent those two men from ever meeting in the first place.

From a tryst against the wall as you and Jon were making your way to the main hall of Winterfell to see to a meeting with the Northern Lords, you had not the concept in your mind of what your life days later would have become. But you also, couldn't have known how much it would make you spiral. How much it twisted your mind into something panicked that you did not recognize.

You suddenly felt without purpose that specific night, and left to go find another in case you lost all hope to keep going before finding it.

Attempts had been made for you to look as nondescript as you could manage, as the pair of you walked into the loud and bustling noise of the tavern. Evening had fallen upon the sky and those nearby in the city took refuge in some of the only entertainment they would get in these early months of winter. Men drinking, laughing and joking as they made jesting passes as the barmaid's serving them more as their nights went on.

The raven scroll had only been able to describe the building as having a wooden sign handing over the entrance of what looked like a horse reaching in the air. If what was said was accurate, they would be here if not tonight then at some point. Your hair was messy in it's looks as you had made sure not to let yourself appear as being used to much effort. The cloak around your shoulders was dark, shabby and only enough to have a hood and cover the equally as unimpressive dress as you fit mostly in with all the others.

Not a single weapon but one hidden dagger. A normal lowborn woman wouldn't be armed as such.

More than once you had to remind Olly not to call you by your title, or even name. Sat on the back of the horse he had asked you, “What am I supposed to call you then?” Thinking about it, your creativity was not quite as good as others and you told him to make one up. A few second passed as he then came up with, “Mya?” So you nodded, saying then Mya it was.

Barrowton was coming into the distance as you and Olly went over once more the covering. “I don't want any to realize who I am, we are here to be discreet. Understood?”

The sun shined low in the sky with a gold as evening fell upon you. Walking into the tavern, you both stood there looking no more out of place then any other. “What's the name of who we're here for?”

Looking around, it wasn't obvious right away if they were here. “For our purposes? They're going by the name Satin.” Olly asking you how would he know if they were here or not, you glanced over at him. “Do you know what I look like?”

Taken back, Olly's face twisted in a confusion. “Yes..”

Turning away, you nodded once. “Good. They look like that.” You knew the boy was struggling to tell if he were annoyed or amused by your dryness over the vague details you were barley offering up. But Olly had known something deeply was wrong from the moment this little journey begun.

He had come across you in a unusually uncomposed state, asking why were you looking as if you were ready to leave, despite the lateness of the hour. “Would you keep it a secret if I told you?” You had asked, and when he assured you yes, you narrowed your eyes.

“I won't tell the King this time I promise.” It wasn't his fault, but he could see a tear in your throat scratching down into your heart that left your eyes hazy as you shook yourself out of it in seconds. Clearing your throat you instructed him that he was not to tell anyone you were leaving for the next day at the least. Not knowing what to say when Olly had asked “Won't the King worry where you went?” You simply sent the boy on his way. Beacuse you didn't know how to tell him that he wouldn't just not worry.

Jon would be grateful you finally were gone.

What was it he wanted? What had he said to you? For you to leave and stop being a burden to him. Leave him alone as he wanted, even if he wanted it for good.

Sitting down, you had ordered water, bread and stew for Olly. Giving him a stern glance to the side as he almost went to speak out to attend to you in that same manner. He wasn't here as your steward, he was here because he hadn't wanted to be left behind and you didn't have the heart to say no to him.

You were leaving in the middle of the night in secret, and Olly had to promise he wouldn't say a word if he wanted to come. You didn't know when you would be returning, how long this would take, but after helping a grieving boy burn the remains of his mother and father, the least you could do was not leave him behind again.

Theon was going to be furious with you for this one.

What you didn't expect, was the sad whine in Ghost when you had finally taken off. Having been out hunting in the wolfswood, he had caught you in sight as he stood perched on a nearby cliff side looking down at you. Wishing he weren't so smart, you knew he could sense what you were doing out here and when you gently tried to call up to him, telling him to go back, that it was alright? Ghost whined, whined more when you gave him a sorrowful look, and you heard him still when you rode off.

Maybe when he got back to Jon, Ghost would pick up what happened and hate you too finally. You had done what was advised against, told Jon the truth and it seems like that truth came at the cost of whatever love was left in his heart for you. He deserved to know, not telling him was cruel, but telling him came at a great cost it felt.

You couldn't even recall the extent of how not normal your mind felt that night. The only thing screaming at you in a very specific voice that Jon didn't want you, and for whatever reason, that might have hurt you into a panic more then anything else. In Castle Black you had been scared you would ruin his life by being in it again, but now it finally came to fruition. You did ruin his life.

As you sat in the tavern, looking around for the one person left to you, you wondered if you should do Jon the courtesy, find a way to free him from his new vows, and leave him to find a better wife you always worried he would want instead. You were tired of being the one to bring him problems.

Only days ago, you had not the inkling of what a disaster one man's appearance in Winterfell would spin into. Days ago, you still thought what Jon felt for you would stay real. You still thought you made him happy, and you now felt that toxifying poison of self loathing at how wrong you were. You told Jon the truth, and your only conclusion, was that the truth made him hate you.

But as the barmaid passed your table, clucking a plate onto it it pulled you right out of the memory. Olly's eyes narrow and concerned on you, but you just grabbed whatever bread was closest on it, and pushed the plate more towards him.

Mumbling through your chewing with a lecturing look, “You're the one still growing. Eat.” But as you chewed, washing it down a bit your eyes found a figure in the distance, and it was exactly the strange reaction you wondered if it would feel. But you looked at them, as they saw you. Jon Arryn was still not wrong.

“The seed is strong.”

One drop of Baratheon blood and the two of you looked just the same here. You could only wonder as you both looked wide eyed at one another, how alone did they truly feel to have reached out to you of all people? It had been many years since that day on the Street of Steel, and you never had a good or safe reason to think you'd see them again. Pylos said they were all dead, all of Roberts bastards. And yet, this one wasn't. The one which lived, you shockingly already knew.

Gendry had travelled all the way North, to try and find you himself.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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sxs-kav · 7 months ago

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I saw Frozen Empire, so obviously I have to talk about it. Spoilers ahead.

Also disclaimer that these are my personal feelings, so if we disagree that's okay too!

So, overall I would rate the movie as good. Not my all time favorite in the franchise, I think that will always go to the original, but I enjoyed it. The story could have used a little work in some parts, but hey, nothing is perfect.

Favorite part of this whole movie: one Dr. Raymond Stantz, hands down. He is so cute as an old man-child whose enthusiasm hasn't waned the least bit over the years. Honestly, in Afterlife he seemed like he'd become cynical, but here his true nature really rang through. And I adore him being a mentor for Phoebe and the other younger characters, while also getting into mischief with them. That little sparkle in his eye when Phoebe asks "Aren't you retired?" No, Ray is never retired, he will always be ready to suit up.

I also loved in the police station when Phoebe was standing up to Dickless Peck, Ray had this face like he was so proud, like he could see Egon in her, memories of him saying "YOUR MOTHER!" 😆

The other thing I liked about the movie was the expansion of the Ghostbusters as a business, with the research lab. First off, I love that Winston, the one who didn't even believe in ghosts when he was hired, is now almost like the CEO of the company. But also, it opens up more possibilities for this new era and allows for more playing with the world building. Though I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to put in some easter eggs for TRGB. Unless the ghosts featured were in the (*shudder*) Q5 episodes, I didn't recognize any of them from the show. Then again, I guess they're newer ghosts so that wouldn't make sense, but maybe they could have been similar kinds of ghosts. Just as a small reference.

Other favorite parts include:

-The near-lesbian romance between Phoebe and Melody

-Ray smuggling the Mini Pufts from Oklahoma (because of course he would)

-Also just the Mini Pufts in general (why are they so violent?)

-The way Ray's face lit up when Peter came to the firehouse

-Peter being proud that Ray quit smoking

-Peter's unwavering faith that Ray's idea is good and will work, and saying they all trust him

-The library ghost (did they never go back to get her???)

-Gary saying the words to the theme song

-Janine in uniform!

-Slimer eating the pizza with the posesser ghost in it

Now, onto the areas that I felt were not as strong. First of all, I found it wild that Phoebe was being ousted by everyone without any kind of fight. She's the one that started the whole thing up again, she's got the passion, she's got the brains, she's got the glasses and the curls! Her mom says a grand total of NOTHING to defend her in Peck's office, and they all just accept that she can't be a Ghostbuster anymore. Yeah, they don't want to get sued, but it's just weird to me that they don't even seem like they feel that terrible that she got benched. Callie and Trevor are very callous about the whole thing. Only Gary seems like he gives a shit, and he's not even her dad. The way Phoebe's benching ended wasn't all that satisfying either. It would have been nice for the other three to maybe struggle a little without her, realize they need her to balance the team, and try to find a way to get her back. Winston was really the one that got Peck off their backs in the end, no thanks to anyone else (also, I'm pretty sure in that scene, someone in the crowd yells 'dickless' 😆).

Side note, I really don't like Callie's character that much. I think she's self-centered and doesn't seem to care about the kids' feelings unless the situation becomes dire. Maybe she does deep down, but mostly her attitude about everything stinks. Idk, I wouldn't care if she wasn't in the movie at all.

Anyway, back to the plot. I liked the idea of Phoebe's plotline. I wish they'd gone all the way and had her and Melody kiss, I really thought that was coming when she separated from her body. But I have an issue about that particular moment. The decision to suddenly put herself in the chamber like that seemed to come out of nowhere, at least I thought so. They made it like Melody was supposed to be the one tricking her into doing it, but she really never said anything to convince her. Phoebe just decided on her own to try it. I know she mentioned a couple of times wondering what it would feel like to be a ghost, but it wasn't a strong enough buildup to such a risky move. Honestly, when she asked Ray about him wanting to be a ghost, coupled with Winston saying Ray was going to get himself killed, I thought they were foreshadowing killing Ray (and thank God they didn't!).

They also hint at Phoebe specifically being the one that needs to be used but why? Anyone could have been tricked into the chamber and been controlled by Garaka for the chanting.

But moving on from that, the other issue I have is with the firemaster. He was a little too good at controling the fire after what, a couple of hours of practice? I think the character could still work, he could still be a quirky weird guy, but I think I would have made him more of a reluctant inheritor of his grandma's powers. Maybe he struggles with it at first and he figures he can sell the artifacts to Ray to get rid of the responsibility. Then later he can finally accept his fate to help beat Garaka when he starts believing in himself.

Those are the only major parts that I felt could have been tweaked. Besides that, I would have loved to see Slimer and Ray get a moment, just as a nod to their friendship in the show, but I guess they want to stick to one continuity. Of all the things they could have referenced from the show, though, it had to be the Junior GB 😆 It was just a throwaway line, but still, I don't want to remember they were a thing.

Tl;dr, the movie was good and there were a lot of parts I really enjoyed. For the parts that were weak, I'm confident there will be another in the future, so hopefully they'll keep improving.

Also, who the hell voted for Peck to be mayor? I bet he rigged the election.

#ghostbusters #frozen empire #peter venkman #ray stantz #egon spengler #winston zeddemore #phoebe spengler #janine melnitz

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sungbeam · 2 years ago

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OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART TWO (EP9-17)

nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader

everyone thinks ji 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, crying lol, 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, kissing!, 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, im literally writing abt people who dance like gods but im a plebian w two left feet i have no idea what im looking at except for hips—, pining haha...ha (more subtle until the end), he's in a bathrobe near the end sorry children

▷ PART TWO WC. 17.6k

love in unity series m.list / otr part one

a/n: if u haven't read part one GO AWAY GO READ PART ONE ??? WHAT'RE U DOING HERE

EPISODE NINE: OFF THE AIR

IT was common knowledge that the week before finals week was referred to as the dreaded Dead Week. Campus was barren, coffee shops and libraries were packed, and almost everybody lived in some variation of sweats, hoodies, and eye bags. You were actually holed up in the research lab (yes, again) because your deadline to get this paper to your graduation advisor was literally looming over your shoulder, and though you were practically done, you were too paranoid of not catching some dumb typo before you turned it in.

Plus, the coffee in the lab break room was free and sponsored by your resident graduate student supervisor, and beloved older brother figure, Qian Kun. God rest his workaholic soul and empty pockets.

There weren't many people here this afternoon; most had retreated to their own homes or offices or wherever they dwelled during the Week of the Dead.

Then there was Ten.

"So do you guys just wither away here by yourselves?" Amongst the empty workbenches, his words seemed to unnecessarily resonate. From his perch in Kun's office, he spread his arms wide to gesture to all the empty space.

Kun pressed his fingers to the space between his eyes. "Yes, now let me wither in peace."

"No, I don't think I will."

You felt yourself smile. Ten had come in a few hours ago with lunch for both you and Kun. Supposedly, when he had heard that the two of you habitually ran on only coffee and dreams during Dead Week, he took it upon himself to swing by the nearest fast food restaurant and pick up a very belated lunch for you both. You’d chomped down on it with Kun in his office, but as soon as you were done, you retreated back to your desk.

The sky outside of the research laboratory was already beginning to bruise to a gray-blue-purple, the color of a dusty blueberry. Soon, you would have to surrender yourself to the night and head back home, but hopefully before that, you would decide that you were at least too tired to continue staring at these same seventeen pages for hours on end…

All three heads perked up at the sound of the laboratory building door opening and closing in the distance. None of you were exactly expecting anyone, especially when people usually indicated when they would come into work. You craned your neck from your workbench to see who had come in—

“I’ll only be a minute,” you heard and recognized your colleague Jacob Bae as he strode in from the outside corridor and into the main laboratory floor.

He met your eyes and smiled. “Hey, Yn.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

He let out a sigh as he jogged past your desk and headed toward a cupboard in the back corner. “I forgot that I left my—” His voice cut out as he ducked into the dark cupboard and withdrew a giant plastic tub. From the plastic innards filled with paper, he fished out a specific packet of paper shoved into a flimsy manila folder. “Forgot my thesis draft.”

You coughed out a laugh. “Dude.”

His grin was innocent and boyish, standard Jacob. “What? A guy’s gonna forget some things sometimes.”

“Is that what you tell your girlfriend?”

He sent you an unimpressed look. “Ha ha, Yn. Very funny. For your information, she’s more forgetful than me sometimes.” He stuck his tongue out at you as he passed by your workbench, and you, as the very mature person you were, stuck your tongue out back at him. It was only fair.

A cough sounded out from the entrance to the laboratory, and you turned your head to find Changmin, out of all people, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Peering out from behind the corner of the wall, however, was his friend Sunwoo from that other night. And yanking Sunwoo back behind the wall was Chanhee. Strange.

Someone (you suspected Chanhee) gave Changmin a firm shove into the laboratory, sending the latter stumbling in before he caught himself and regained his balance. He was swaddled in a dark colored puffer jacket and a red scarf, his red-tipped nose and cheeks bitten by the cold. For the first time, he looked smaller than he was, almost shy or nervous. You hadn’t encountered this Changmin in a long time.

He wasn’t one to look vulnerable out in the open like this.

As Jacob passed by Changmin, he clasped his shoulder in reassurance.

“Hi,” Changmin said slowly as he approached your workbench.

You were still a little dumbfounded that he was here again. “Uh, hi. What’re you doing here?” The argument the two of you had earlier in the week replayed in your mind, and you almost grimaced. You’d both said even more hurtful things, and you supposed you had just been so sensitive that your brain just automatically went into defense mode to protect yourself.

No, you hadn’t been there that night for him. You hadn’t expected to see anyone there at that time of night. That was the whole point of you going so late. You had been trying to get yourself to go into the practice room on your own, but the longer you had stood there, staring at the door, the more you realized you couldn’t do it. It still didn’t sit well with you, how affected you were by your mother’s past words.

Changmin kept his distance, but he came close enough that you could hear what he was trying to say without the others listening in too much. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

You blinked. “Talk? Like right now?” Your eyes darted to your computer screen and the practically finished paper displayed. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep working on it, but your heart beat startled at the sudden thought of having that very important conversation right now, when you weren’t ready.

He caught onto your movements though. “No, no—I mean,” he stammered, recovering with a quick swipe of his tongue over his lip, “just whenever. It doesn’t have to be now. I just figured it’d be best to get that… out in the air, you know?” I think it’s what we’ve been needing all this time. Something proper; no more yelling matches.

For a second, you thought you could see some of the old Changmin in this one. It wasn’t like he had changed, per se, it was more like he was finally showing that part of himself that you had been missing all along. You swallowed, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll, uhm, text you sometime tonight after I turn this paper in.”

He nodded back at you. “Yeah, cool.”

When you saw him begin to back away, a thought suddenly occurred to you. You called out to him to get him to stop, and you could have sworn that there was a gleam in his eyes then. “Changmin—about Sumin…” You inhaled deeply as you fought for the right words to express your next thoughts, “be gentle with her, okay?”

Even then there was a pang in your heart as you uttered those words. Sumin had texted you all about her interaction with Changmin a day or so ago regarding his “interview”, and she had been gushing about her crush on him. She had even asked you how much you knew about him and if you could give her a crash course in all things dance or even Changmin. Suffice to say, you felt trapped between a rock and hard place, but you didn’t want to let her down. (You’d always wanted to be a big sister; you didn’t want to push her away because of feelings that you were too petty to address.)

Changmin’s head tilted to the side as he made a confused face. “Huh?”

You sighed, “You seriously didn’t notice?”

“No, actually,” he quipped.

You pursed your lips; why weren’t you surprised? It wouldn’t be very cool of you to reveal Sumin’s crush on him if that wasn’t what she wanted. You would have to be subtle, but also not subtle, then. “Just—” you made a vague gesture with your hands, “—don’t be brash.”

“Brash?”

“Don’t be mean,” you amended.

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You thought even Ten rolled his eyes from where he was in Kun’s office. “You’re hopeless, really.”

Changmin’s face pinched, and he was moving back closer to your workbench. “I’ll have you know that we’re both hopeless.”

You deadpanned. “Now I’m pretty sure we’re not even in the same ballpark,” you muttered in exasperation. “Whatever. Your friends are waiting for you, Changmin.”

His lips pressed into a line. He glanced quickly over his shoulder where his friends were pretending to not be eavesdropping, then looked back at you. “Okay, yeah. Just don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” you promised.

EPISODE TEN: OFF THE MARKET

CHANGMIN glanced up at the entrance to the coffee shop, matching the sign in the window to the one he had searched up on his GPS app. It seemed to match from what he saw.

Today was the Friday of Dead Week, a handful of days after he dipped out of his interview with Sumin and confronted you at the laboratory. He had consulted Chanhee that day, regarding his mess of feelings about the situation with you, and Chanhee had practically forced him to go with him and Jacob to the laboratory. (Sunwoo just happened to tag along because he, apparently, felt left out.) Changmin wondered how Chanhee could have possibly known that you would be there, but Chanhee dismissed his worries by assuring him that after he asked you, he would feel a lot better and less like a hot pile of shit.

Chanhee was right, as per usual. Not that Changmin was going to admit that aloud to him ever.

But today was important because of two things in particular, and they both had to do with things that occurred several days ago. The first item on the agenda was going into this cafe to finish up that un-started interview with Sumin. After he had given her his number that day, she was swift to send a greeting text to him to set up a time and place to meet. Changmin actually had yet to visit this coffee shop in particular, but then again, he was a bit partial to the one Jacob introduced to the group last quarter.

Your words of advice, or caution, rang in his ears like the bell that twinkled above the door as he walked into the building. Be gentle with her. Don’t be brash. Don’t be mean. What did all of that even mean? He liked being interviewed, especially when it was about dance, so why would you think he would be anything but well-behaved? Part of him thought it was based off of the two of your interactions for the past three years, but he knew you had the good sense to know he didn’t treat just anyone like he treated you.

The thought remained fresh in his mind even as he scanned the room for a familiar face.

Sumin was seated in a secluded booth in the corner of the coffee shop. When she saw him, she waved him over excitedly, slipping her compact into her purse. Her laptop was left on the table in front of her, but unopened. Huh, maybe she just got here, too.

Changmin slid into the booth across from her. “Hi, sorry, were you waiting long?” He asked as he shouldered his jacket off and set his bag on top of it.

Sumin perked up a little bit. “Oh, no! Don’t worry. Did you have a good week?”

“Ah, as good as the week before finals can be, I suppose,” he chuckled, leaning back against the booth seat. His eyes darted to the unopened laptop still in the middle of the table and he cupped the back of his neck. “Did you wanna order anything to drink? Or have you ordered already?”

She shook her head, her hand reaching up to fidget with the end of one of her curled locks of hair. “Hm? No, I didn’t order yet! I was waiting for you so we could order something together—I mean, at the same time.”

“Cool, yeah,” he cleared his throat, signaling for one of the workers’ attention with a wave of his hand. “We can order and then get started.”

“Ah, ha, right.”

Once orders were taken, Sumin finally cracked open her laptop and got a couple things set up. Changmin patiently waited for her to get all settled, his eyes wandering about the shop and absentmindedly observing the workers behind the counter as they bustled about to prepare drinks and pastries.

Sumin coughed, “Okay, I figured that recording is a little unnecessary, so I’ll just be jotting some notes down on my laptop.”

Changmin bobbed his head. “Sounds good.”

She shifted in her seat, her posture straightening, as she figured out how exactly to start. “I hope you’ll be patient with me since I haven’t been doing this for a long time, but Yn gave me some pointers to start with,” she said sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“No problem! I totally understand; take your time.” He cocked his head to the side unconsciously, “Yn didn’t offer to sit in for your interviews?”

“Oh! Uh, she did, but I insisted that I was feeling confident enough to do them on my own,” she laughed lightly. “Definitely a bit nerve-wracking, but I think the interviews with Juyeon and a few of the other dancers went well earlier in the week.”

“Hey, I mean, I admire your courage,” he said with what he hoped was an encouraging enough smile. “Just take your time with it, Sumin. We’ll make sure to get you all the info you need.” There. Was that what you meant by not being mean? Wasn’t this just being considerate, though?

His foot tapped against the ground absentmindedly as he thought about the next thing on his agenda after this interview: talking to you. It was weird, having to almost set an appointment to have this very needed talk, but as you had said, you texted him your availability and the two of you just happened to both have this evening free. He just needed to finish this interview… There was still plenty of time.

His words to Sumin seemed to make her shoulders relax a little bit, and she jumped right into her first question. Changmin would answer as thoughtfully as could, which wasn’t too difficult seeing as he was literally talking about one of the things he was most passionate about in this world. He could probably talk about dance and his love for dance for days on end. Sumin, in turn, would skillfully and naturally continue the conversation so it felt a lot less like an interview, and more like an interaction between friends about dance.

Perhaps he didn’t even realize when the questions became less about his experience about dance and more about him; when Sumin gradually stopped typing notes down on her laptop and instead leaned her chin onto her hands to watch him; or when she suddenly asked—

“Is that your ideal first date then?”

Record scratch.

The words on Changmin’s tongue died instantly, and his brain scrambled to process what she had just said. “Sorry?”

Sumin’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing. “I—I mean, you were talking about going to see live dance shows with your former partner and I just…” She shook her head with an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, was that too forward?”

Changmin blinked once, twice; dear god, he must have been running his mouth without even realizing. “I was talking about Yn?”

That ripped Sumin right out of embarrassment—well, it was closer to mortification. The color on her cheeks had turned pale. “Yn is your ex?”

Fuck— “No, no, no! She’s not. She’s definitely not—”

Sumin covered her face with both of her palms in distress, a sentiment that was definitely shared between both parties in the booth. “Oh my god, and I’ve been telling her all about my crush on you, too. I must have looked so stupid.”

His eyes flew open. “Huh?!”

“Please, I’ve been so obvious, Changmin!”

Not to me, he thought. Jesus, was he really so blind? Was this what you meant this whole time? Changmin waved his hands around in an X formation, trying to reign the conversation into some level of sanity. “Sumin, I can assure you, that you definitely weren’t obvious until you literally just said it,” he began. “And so we’re clear, Yn is not my ex-girlfriend. She was my ex-dance partner and friend, but not a significant other.” As much as it sucked to admit that—

Sumin slowly lowered her hands from her face with the light reflected in her eyes wobbling. “Oh… okay, I guess that makes sense then.”

Changmin let out a haggard sigh, holding his hand to his head. “Yeah, well… I guess I should say that I’m sorry, but I don’t really share the same feelings for you?” He shook his head to himself, trying to rephrase: “What I mean is that I’m not exactly looking for a relationship. I’m kind of messed up right now.” Understatement of the century.

She pursed her lips, but nodded. “I get that. Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Least I can do,” he said, clasping his hands together over the table.

“So,” she drawled with a wince, “I take it this interview is over?”

He brushed a hand through his hair. “If you have everything you need and there are no hard feelings?”

She inclined her head in the affirmative, and that was that.

— ✶

Even on a Friday evening, if it was the week before an exam season, the library study rooms were always packed, one occupier after the other. Attempting to score one was the equivalent of launching a stakeout, complete with charging cables, two cups of coffee, and a will of steel (to wait hours for a room to open up). Someone must have been looking out for you though as you managed to snatch a study room as soon as you arrived on the second floor of one of the main student libraries on campus. When you and Changmin had exchanged an, albeit brief, bit of texts, you both agreed that meeting somewhere that could serve as common ground would be good for the both of you. It had to be semi-private, as well, since neither of you wanted to let anyone else in on your private, personal problems.

The library study rooms were your solution, and maybe this was the universe’s sign that this discussion needed to happen.

As soon as the door closed gently behind you, you set yourself up in one of the chairs around the small, rectangular table at the center of the room. Changmin said he would be a couple minutes late because the bus had been late to pick up his stop and Chanhee was borrowing his car, so you texted him to let him know which room you were in.

While you waited, you attempted to ease your mind by scrolling through social media and flipping through emails and returning to social media, and wait, did you ever get a reply back from that one TA? All the while, your knee would bounce up and down ceaselessly, your fingers shaking and cold and numb. You were perhaps seconds away from your throat closing in on itself again, but then the door opened.

Changmin murmured a “hey” to you as he closed the door behind him and lowered himself into the seat across from you.

The room was quiet. “Hey,” you said back, clearing your throat.

You watched as his nostrils flared slightly as he exhaled. “What did you mean by ‘when did I stop caring’?”

You were a little startled that he decided to start right away, but on the other hand, relieved that he did. You wouldn’t have known how to begin anyway. “When did you stop caring?” You parroted in case you hadn’t heard him right. If you weren’t mistaken, he was referring to what you had said that night in front of the practice rooms.

He gave a nod. “Yeah, I was thinking about what you said…” He scratched his jaw, continuing lowly, “...y’know, on the bus ride over here. And I just don’t understand where in the world you got the idea that I ever stopped caring about you.” He met your eyes then, and you could see the tightness in his jaw, but the gleam in his irises.

This wasn't about being right anymore; it was about making things right.

"You—" you grappled for words, finding yourself pinned down by Changmin's relentlessly piercing gaze, "—I just got so much radio silence from you."

"You were giving me the same excuses."

"Because it was the same, exact problem," you fired back. "And, okay, so they were excuses, but god, Changmin. I could just see how with each passing day, you looked at me differently because I was late or I told you I couldn't make it. Didn't I give you reasons why? Just that disappointment and cold shoulder…" It broke my damn heart.

Changmin's arms were crossed over his chest as he considered your words, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "I never," he began, "thought poorly of you, Yn." It sounded like he was struggling to piece together the right words, too, and he choked down a swallow. "I was going through a lot of shit around that time, and my patience was always paper thin by the time it was our usual practice time, y'know? It was never you specifically I was mad at."

He paused for a moment. His head hung, and he picked at a stray thread on his jacket cuff. "My parents said they wouldn't support me if I majored in dance."

Your heart stopped clean.

"They basically said I'd have to finance myself for all four years if I wanted to make dancing a career," he said with a flippant, helpless gesture. "I was given some scholarship money from the school, but it was nowhere near a full ride. So I was stressed the fuck out because I knew I needed to win those comps to get more money. They were cool with me dancing as, like, a hobby or a way to get into college, but as soon as I told them my intended major was dance?"

Well, shit.

Horror pooled in your gut, the kind that started up at your shoulders and spider-crawled down the length of your spine. "I'm so sorry, Changmin. That must have been so much pressure for you, oh my god."

This entire time, you'd been under the impression that his parents were fine and dandy with their son becoming a dancer. He'd always had a natural, prodigal talent for the art form. He was the absolute cream of the crop from your class, and you couldn't believe they could be anything but proud of having a son like him.

But you supposed you shouldn't have assumed. There was a cost to being a hypocrite.

Changmin nodded, but it wasn't very affirming. It was like he had heard it all before and had already accepted it all grimly and reluctantly. "Yeah, well… I won all those comps, but what did I lose in the process, y'know?"

He gestured to you. "I just thought I'd always have you to run back to, but you were going through your own stuff. I'm not trying to pin the blame on you—it's… just that… you were my best friend. My partner."

"It's funny you say that," you said then, drumming your fingers anxiously against your leg. "I thought I could rely on you, too. And I definitely drifted away from you, but it was because of my own reasons."

Changmin nodded, settling his hands on top of the table and leaning in slightly.

Still, every time you told someone, you could never get it right. But maybe you could get it right this time. "You know how my parents got divorced and I said that my mom had changed?"

His forehead creased then, and he nodded again.

"She started yelling a lot," you said. "Would always make me listen to her scream in my face about how dance was useless, how dance would never help me in the real world, how I was absolutely awful at it and that I should be focusing on something worth my time." You swallowed, continuing on, "And when I told you I couldn't make it or that I was late, it was because she started refusing to take me to practices and competitions and shows.

"And I mean—I tried really hard to keep going, Changmin, I really did." You raised your eyes to meet his and found him staring at you still, but this time you saw that glisten in his eyes again. The tension in his jaw had slackened, and had been replaced with that same dread you had while he was telling you what happened to him. "I thought that I could get past what my mom kept telling me, and that once I got to the practice room—I just needed to get to the practice room—it would all be worth it."

There was a stinging feeling in the back of your eyes, at your tear glands. Your vision was blurring and you blinked back the traitorous tears.

Changmin pursed his lips, his face contorting slightly as he too tried to contain the emotions welling up in him. "And then I shut you out."

"We shut each other out."

"Why—" he rasped, his hand coming up to cover part of his mouth, "—didn't you tell me? I would've—god, I would've—" He didn't know, actually, but all he knew was that he would've been better. Would he have though? Truly? Would you have?

"I didn't like talking about it," you confessed, sniffling. You were ashamed of yourself, both then and now. You raised your hand up to wipe the corner of your eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, fuck, don't apologize." He stood, arms opening and palms turning upward like an offering, "C'mere."

Both of you, teary-eyed messes, stumbled out of your chairs to close the distance in each other's arms. It was the feeling of finally holding each other after three years that made the two of you break down completely. The study room's quiet was filled with sounds of messy, blubbering sobs—hands grappling at the other's jacket, faces shoved into the warmth of a neck or shoulder.

Two pieces of a puzzle having finally been reunited.

This was where you belonged.

"This was all I wanted," you bawled into his shoulder.

It seemed to make his body tremble harder. "I would've given it to you—god, I would've given you anything. I'm so goddamn sorry."

"Hey," you mused half-heartedly, "if I'm not allowed to apologize, then neither are you."

He gave a watery chuckle. "Okay, fine." His wet eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes and tightened his hold around you. "That must have been awful, Yn. How…? Just how."

You rested your cheek against his toned shoulder. "Somehow… I don't really know. I'm proud of you, though, you know? I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you. I'm proud of you, too." He sniffled, mouth pressing against your shoulder. "All this time, I thought you hated dance and hated me."

"Oh, god no," you sniffled, sucking in a breath. "I—I knew I couldn't be strong anymore; I didn't want to disappoint you." And when you could no longer attend those practices, you had believed it would be better to not be there to drag him down. You thought that without having to wait on you every time, he would have been all the better. You see now that perhaps you were wrong in your logic.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in the other's arms as words settled and feelings sunk in. The realization that this tension between the two of you was possibly over now was crazy.

"For the record," Changmin murmured, "you're a great dancer. No matter what your mom told you, you'll always be a great dancer."

You laughed a little, shaking your head. "Not anymore, I'm not."

"That's where you're wrong." He pulled away from you and you saw the tears staining his dimpled cheeks, but the smile he was giving you was something out of a dream. He gently, playfully punched your arm. "You're still my partner, after all."

EPISODE ELEVEN: OFF THE SHELF

EVER since Changmin, Chanhee, JC!Yn, and her roommate Kei decided to change the weekly grocery shopping session to Saturday mornings, Changmin had never been so grateful for such a change until now. It used to be on Sunday mornings during the fall quarter because JC!Yn volunteered at the local children’s club on Saturday mornings, but since the Sunny Side Up Club had begun closing its doors on the weekend until summer break, her Saturdays had suddenly freed up.

Kei, as usual, had waltzed off in search of her own shopping list items, leaving JC!Yn and Changmin with the shopping cart of groceries and Chanhee sitting in the middle of it, cross-legged and swaddled in a pink hoodie.

“That’s awful,” JC!Yn lamented as she slowly trailed after Changmin while pushing the cart. There was a frown etched into her face, as well as Chanhee’s, while and after Changmin had caught them up on the events of the previous day’s talk with you. “I mean, I know some parents are super strict about their kids studying, but…” She shook her head, “You’ve both been through a terrible amount of shit, man.”

Chanhee nodded his agreement, peering up at Changmin who was at the helm of the cart, staring at the label on a container of canned corn blankly. “Yeah, for sure. How’re you holding up, Changminnie?”

Changmin shrugged half-heartedly and rather mopey. “As well as I could be.”

“Well, are you guys good now?” JC!Yn asked. “Y’know, after clearing all the air?”

Changmin made a face at the canned corn, but handed it to Chanhee to place amongst the other things in the cart with him. “I mean, kind of? Not really?” He scratched the side of his head, and his two friends looked on at him, then exchanged worried glances. Usually Changmin was the one cracking jokes, but to see him in such a state… “It’s just a little awkward now because we’ve been on ice around each other for years. Going back to normal shouldn’t be easy, should it?”

Chanhee pursed his lips, his head tilting from side to side. “That’s true. When you guys were still in grudge era, you let all the angst between you do the talking.”

“Angst? I was not angsty, for your information.”

Both of his companions scoffed their disagreement. “Every single time her name was brought up around you, you gazed far off like some kind of angsty main hero,” Chanhee retorted. “Like Kevin at that one dinner when we were interrogating Eric.”

JC!Yn laughed. “That feels like so long ago.”

Changmin sent her a look, the corner of his lips tilting upward like the arch of his eyebrow. “That’s because you and Jacob act like you’ve been married for ten years.”

Her face heated at those words, but she held her chin up in pride. “I’m gonna pretend this is your jealousy talking.”

“Oh, please,” he quipped back and turned back to the shelves to hunt for any other familiar labels that would trigger his hunger. “If I wanted to be so grossly in love—”

“Then you’d go find Yn?”

“—Then I’d go find Y—HEY!” Changmin sputtered as his cheeks lit up like the can of roasted red bell peppers in his hand. Chanhee and JC!Yn exploded into equal fits of delighted cackles, the former extending his arm back so the latter could return his fistbump. Changmin scowled through his flustered haze. “Whatever; taking advantage of my vulnerable state is not cool, guys.”

Chanhee beamed up at his best friend with the kind of smile that no one could be mad at. It was impish, adorable even. “Aw, it’s only ‘cause we love you.”

“Gross,” Changmin muttered, wrinkling his nose dramatically, then nudging his glasses up his nose.

As she stopped the cart behind Changmin, JC!Yn rested her arm against the bar and let her chin sit atop her fist as she and Chanhee watched Changmin scour the shelves again. “Didn’t you say you had feelings for her back then, Changmin-ah? Would you say they were still present or not?”

He sucked in a breath at the question as he let the question marinate in his brain. After yesterday’s world-altering talk with you, neither of you were able to stay too long afterward to catch up. You’d both, unfortunately, been called to your own separate summons. But this morning, when Changin had woken up with the information having been properly processed in his brain and given him room to overthink as he did… Truthfully, he had no idea where the two of you stood with one another. It wasn’t going to be the same, not like childhood and not like the past three years.

He didn’t exactly know what to say to you now, only that there was still that emptiness in his chest. He hadn’t expected the feeling to go away, but he also hadn’t expected it to remain. What was he supposed to do? He was pretty sure you didn’t even like him like that back then, so there was no way your feelings would have changed in that sense over the past three years. Some said that distance made the heart grow fonder, and while Changmin wasn’t one for cliche lines, he did feel an ache for you. He wanted to make up for lost time. Even if you didn’t feel the same way he had back then, it didn’t mean that he still felt the same… right?

“I think we lost him,” came Chanhee’s very loud stage whisper.

Changmin shook out of his mind and leveled a glare at his two friends. “I’ll think about it.”

“Didn’t you just think about it?”

“Hey, if JC!Yn-ie can take an entire quarter to tell Jacob-ssi her feelings, then you can give me like, five minutes to think about mine!” He squawked, waving his arms around in the air like one of those car-wash balloon people that flopped around in the wind. Except this one was high on emotions and his round lenses were slipping down his nose, adding to his overall mad man-like look.

JC!Yn deadpanned, shaking her head as she began pushing the cart after Changmin. She muttered under her breath, “He’s just astounded that he has feelings for someone, JC!Yn. Let him be touchy today.”

Chanhee, who had heard her speak to herself loud and clear, twisted around to grin and pat her arm reassuringly. “He’s just malfunctioning because he might actually have a chance now.”

“I can hear you!”

Chanhee chuckled, and the sound was villainous.

The three of them, as per routine, met up with Kei at the checkout lanes. There was one occasion where one of the workers was so tired that they tried to scan Chanhee and make them pay for him, but other than that, most people just offered him a sweet from the jar on the counter. As groceries were bagged up, and Kei was caught up on the situation at hand in verbal bullet point format, she took only a moment to suggest: “Why don’t you invite her to the dance showcase?”

All eyes went to Changmin, even as JC!Yn pushed the cart out with the group.

Changmin chewed his bottom lip. “I would, but... I dunno. I don’t want to trigger anything for her.” He winced to himself, “It would be really cool to have her there, of course! But I literally saw her in the practice room a week ago and she looked like she was seconds away from having a full-on panic attack.” As much as inviting you to watch him perform for the first time in three years thrilled him (and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest), he had seen you that day—blanched, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t imagine just what thoughts were running through your head then, especially after hearing what you had told him yesterday.

He was so—god, he was so angry at your mother. He knew about the divorce and the negative effect it had on her, but for her to practically take all that energy out on you? It was something simply unforgivable. His heart hurt for you.

Chanhee dipped his head in a slight nod, mouth curved down into a frown again. "That's fair. But I mean, it wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?"

"I just don't want to come off as insensitive, especially after three years of the cold shoulder." Your words from yesterday had penetrated him deeply—he hoped to never make you feel abandoned ever again.

Kei peered around at Changmin from the other side of JC!Yn. "If it counts, I don't think she'll take it as being insensitive, Changmin."

"She might feel better about getting, y'know, a personal invitation from you," JC!Yn chimed in. "Even if she isn't comfortable with going, she'll know you're thinking of her."

Changmin pressed his knuckles to his lips, bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously. It was amusing, and perhaps a little concerning, for his friends to see him like this. He flapped the ends of his sweater sleeves in the air like he was hyping himself up. "Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll invite her to see me perform."

He raised an arm into the air toward the sky. "The next time I see her, that's what I'll—"

"Oh, look, she's right there," said Chanhee, pointing in the distance from his cart throne.

Changmin squeaked, "She's what?!" He slid behind JC!Yn in a very poor attempt to hide himself from the oncoming party.

Said party consisted of you, Yeri, Mark, and Ten—again. Except, instead of the coffee shop across the shopping mall, it was the parking lot on his friends' turf. Mark and Yeri were the first to see Changmin's friend group, both of them making unsubtle glances at Changmin. They passed by with friendly greetings, excusing themselves as they argued over the possibility of the store having watermelon (the answer was no; sorry Mark).

You and Ten lagged behind slightly, seemingly deep in conversation. The latter listened intently, but he felt eyes on him and looked up. His eyes twinkled as he made eye contact with Changmin—Changmin couldn't tell whether or not he liked that feeling.

You realized that he was looking outward and onward, and so you followed his gaze. Your eyes widened a tad at the sight of Changmin's friend group manifesting out of nowhere. "Hi guys," you said with an awkward smile when you and Ten met them in the middle.

"Hi Yn-ie," Chanhee giggled, turning around to wag his eyebrows at Changmin.

Changmin threw back a very unimpressed scowl. He let a smile grace his face just as he looked back at you. "Hey Yn, Ten."

JC!Yn unsubtly began pushing the cart to uncover Changmin. "Hey, you two. Changmin was actually just talking about you, Yn!"

Traitor! Changmin's jaw dropped.

Ten grinned. "That's really funny, 'cause Yn was just talking about you, Changmin."

You glared daggers at your friend with the same level of betrayal in your eyes as Changmin expressed. At least you were both getting thrown under the bus.

Kei nudged him. "Don't you have something to say to her?"

"We'll get out of your hair!" Chanhee chirped, patting the side of the cart as JC!Yn resumed her pushing on the cart past you and Ten. "See you at the car, Changminnie!"

As Changmin's last line of defense walked away with JC!Yn and the shopping cart prince, Ten inclined his head to you. "Should I stick around for this?"

You sighed under your breath. "Probably not. I'll see you inside?"

"Whatever suits your fancy," he mused, shrugging. As he passed by Changmin, he winked, then whistled some random tune as he went on his merry way.

"So what's up?" You asked him then. It seemed to be a cozy morning for you as you fidgeted with the ends of your big, woolen sweater. There was something delicate about the way the corners of your lips curled up into a smile.

Changmin cupped the nape of his neck. "Oh, uh, I know we had that whole talk yesterday, and I was wondering if you'd wanna come see my performance at the winter showcase on Friday?" He added quickly, "No pressure, of course. If you're uncomfortable, then you don't have to worry."

Your lips pursed together in a slight pucker. "I'd actually love to go. I mean—" you swallowed, "—I haven't gone to one since freshman year, but I'd love to."

"You can leave whenever you start feeling uncomfortable," he assured you, but he was smiling widely now. "It'll be cool to, y'know, have you in the audience."

"That means a lot, Changmin," you said earnestly, your smile sweet. It was almost weird to not have you frowning or glaring at him. It felt… good. It felt really good. “I will try my best.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked on his heels, teeth biting down on his bottom lip to suppress the eager grin threatening to come out. “That’s all I could ask for.”

EPISODE TWELVE: OFF THE CHARTS

YOU were late. You were extremely late, actually, and to be honest, if you had known the bus was going to break down in the middle of the stupid road, you would have gotten off and walked. But then again, you were practically buried in all of the bundles of flowers you wanted to bring for your friends performing tonight. There were four bundles in total that you bothered to pick out just about two hours ago, one for Minho, one for Jungwoo, one for Ten, and of course, you could not forget one for Changmin.

When Changmin had personally invited you to come see his performance tonight earlier in the week, you couldn’t deny that the feeling made your chest warm and fuzzy. Even as you trudged your way up the stairs to the front of the performing arts building, you were filled with adrenaline and antsy energy. You’d waited so long for this, hadn’t you?

The last time you had come to see the winter showcase was in freshman year, the year the Daily asked you to write a review piece on one of the performers debuting that year, and even that had been enough of dance for the years following. It would be nice to know, this time, that you were wanted in the audience. (Changmin would have wanted you in the audience all this time, but you didn’t know that.)

Because you were unquestionably late, the doors to the hall would be closed shut now.

That was why having a friend like Boo Seungkwan was paramount.

“Thank you,” you gasped as one of the doors to the performance hall burst open and allowed you into the warmth of the lobby. You could hear the bass of whatever song was on and the audience’s cheers from here.

Seungkwan swept half of the bouquets from your arms with a click of his tongue. “Yah, you’re insane for taking the bus all the time. Yeri even asked to pick you up!”

“I know, I know!” You cried, the two of you scurrying over to one of the doors in the hall. “I panicked at the last second to get flowers and then I had to go all the way to the shop on fifth! By the way, did you know they’re open until 11?”

Both of your voices quieted as you slipped into the darkened auditorium. The stage was the only part illuminated in blinding, searing hot spotlights. You had just walked in on a brief break between acts as performers switched on and off stage. Seungkwan led you to one of the rows of seats in the nosebleeds that was relatively in the middle.

All of your friends practically occupied the entire row, and they lit up in delight at the sight of you.

“Yo Yn!” Mark whispered as he leaned over Yeri. “You’re actually here!”

Yeri reached over to squeeze your hand as you took the open seat next to her, and Seungkwan took the last seat in the aisle. “I’m so happy you’re here, Yn-ie.”

Doyoung and Kun peered out from around Mark, and you recognized a couple others from the NCT frat and RVE sorority further down the row. “Hey guys,” you said quietly to them as you wrangled your purse into your lap and adjusted the flowers in your arms, “how much did I miss?”

“Not much at all," Doyoung replied. "It's just been a few of the first years."

"We've got a little while until the older batch," Kun said with a wave of the program in his hands.

You nodded your understanding and settled into your seat to get comfortable. The performances went on one after the other. There was a mix of all different genres, ranging from contemporary ballet to tap and popping. Because everyone in the final winter showcase were in some kind of dance course on campus, a lot of the acts displayed a ton of experience already, even as first-years.

The longer the night went on, the less you believed your antsiness was a result of a nervous tick, but rather the bottled up adrenaline building up from watching all the performances. At some point, you realized you weren't even analyzing the performances anymore, but rather, sitting in awe of each one.

When a brief intermission was announced, Yeri and one of her sorority sisters squeezed past to head to the restroom while a few others from the row headed out to stretch their limbs and find some other friends. You and Seungkwan lingered in your seats, discussing your favorite performances so far, as well as how your finals weeks had gone for each of you.

"I'm just so glad we have spring break now," he groaned, his head hanging with exhaustion. "I might have skipped tonight if that meant I could sleep early."

"You would have regretted it though," you pointed out to him.

He gestured with his hand. "Right, you are." He let out a sigh as he raised his head and met your smile with a tired one of his own. "Well, Yn, you did it. You're watching your first full winter showcase. How do you feel?"

Your gaze flickered back to the stage. The house lights had come on for intermission, leaving the stage drenched in darkness. You could have sworn you saw the heavy red curtains shudder as if someone had poked their head out to view the audience. You remembered when you and Changmin used to do that when you were kids.

You turned back to Seungkwan. "I feel surprisingly okay," you confessed. "I was a little nervous before, but I think that I'm doing good."

He nodded. "Good. I'm glad you're here."

"Thanks, Kwan." You exhaled. "I didn't fully realize how long this was gonna be," you mused.

Seungkwan raised a brow at you. "Well, didn't you only stay for like, Changmin's performance last time you were here?"

"Well, yeah—"

The house lights suddenly shuttered off, and people rushed back to their seats. Your friends who were coming back squeezed past you and Seungkwan, effectively cutting off your conversation from before. The last half of the night would be handed over to the students who were majoring in dance and had been a part of the program for over two years.

You were properly in awe of the next performances. They had decided to put Ten out first, dancing to a song called Baby Don't Stop. He had mentioned the song to you once, but you hadn't really thought much about it until now. It was a side of Ten you hadn't seen yet since you had never seen him dance properly, but… you were definitely going to need to gush about this to him afterward.

You were pretty sure the crowd didn't quiet down for five performers in a row, as crazy-talented dancers such as Minho and Jungwoo followed after.

Each performance was incomparable to the next, and soon, you were sucking in a breath to the sound of Changmin's name being announced.

You slapped your hands onto Seungkwan's and Yeri's on either side of you, both of whom squeezed and shook your hands back as the curtain rose.

The lighting began a deep, electric purple, painting Changmin to look like a dark silhouette on stage. You almost couldn't make out the details of his white and black suit-like uniform. It was dynamic and unique with the suit cut outs and gloves, and he paired it all with an eye look that made his eyes feel darker and smokier.

He was still at first—until a set of horns, like trumpets, blared from the speaker's and he began striding forward.

You heard Mark gasp from two seats over. "Holy shit, he's dancing to Action Figure."

You vaguely recognized the title, but if you were thinking of the right song, then the room was about to get a lot louder. Unconsciously, you squeezed Seungkwan and Yeri's hands as you leaned forward and lingered on the edge of your seat.

The performance was everything you expected and more. Changmin was, as you had expressed before, the absolute cream of the crop. Each movement was brought with sharp precision, like the blade of a knife. Even during the slower bridge portion, he somehow executed the legato-like movements with a crispness of 4K HDR quality.

Everyone in the room held their breath (or screamed it out) with each sultry gaze, each lick of his lips, each smirk—a great dancer, a great performer; he would forever be one of the greats. That, you were very certain of.

When the song came to an end and he raised his head to peer at the audience through his bangs, you and everyone else erupted into applause, whistles, yelling—all the works. Your heart palpitated so hard in your chest that you thought it was trying to mimic his own dance. You were practically shaking from all of the bottled energy, and…

"Wow," you breathed out as you leaned back in your seat as the stage was reset for the next act. Your knee began bouncing fervently, sending the flowers in your lap up and down as well.

Seungkwan murmured his agreement, "Whew. I can't tell if I'm attracted or intimidated."

You snorted, patting his hand with your palm. "Both?"

"Probably."

You laughed, your hand lifting up to absentmindedly press against the base of your throat and sternum.

You couldn't help but think about what Changmin had revealed to you that day. How could a pair of parents not be absolutely floored to have a son as talented as Ji Changmin? It was so unbelievable to you, but you couldn't imagine how it might have felt to suddenly have all that support be ripped out from beneath your feet like his support had been.

The performances following would finish off those of the solo category. Afterwards, a handful of groups performed, including repeats of a few performers. Minho and Jungwoo had performed a stage together (Finesse, if you weren't mistaken), while Changmin and Juyeon made a return to the stage with another sultry hit by the name of Light a Flame.

By the end of the night, you were eager to head backstage to see your friends who had just performed their hearts out.

Plus, the bouquets were wilting.

Once the house lights had thunked to life, and the crowd was beginning to lessen, the row you were seated in with your friends stood together. Some of them were going to head straight home, but a few others planned to stay back to congratulate the performers on a night well done.

"You guys ready to head back?" Mark asked while nodding toward the stage with his hands shoved into the pockets of his puffer vest.

The high you were on was gradually fading out, and you had to clear your throat. "Can I meet you guys back there? I think I'm gonna take a quick breather and then just go in through the backdoor."

They were more than okay with accommodating you, encouraging you to take as long as you needed. Mark and Yeri both took the remaining two bouquets from your arms as Seungkwan ushered you out the door to take that breather.

As you hit the cool, early-March air, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself and inhaled deeply. All around you, people lingered and chatted with each other, gushing about their favorite performances and reenacting the most memorable parts. You smiled to yourself when you overheard a group of boys near you talking about Changmin's tasteful choice in music, as well as the cohesion of his entire performance, ranging from not only the music choice, but down to the costuming as well. (And the choreography, of course. Everything about his performance, as emphasized, was breathtaking.)

With a sigh, you began rounding the building toward the back entrance.

Now that you had the space to deconstruct your thoughts, you realized that although you felt an indescribable amount of pride for your friends, you couldn't help the pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. In a way, you envied the performers onstage. You wished you had held on a little longer; maybe then, you could have been one of the people on stage tonight like you had wanted when you were just a teen.

When you reached the back door, you managed to gather your strength and let yourself in.

Like that day you had taken Sumin backstage, it was all hustle and bustle, but ten times that. Pandemonium erupted as performers raced past you left and right trying to find their friends, fellow performers, and even the location of their hairspray. (They should have put their name on it, you thought cheekily, but even then, it might not have worked still, you supposed.)

You kept your arms crossed over your chest as you squeezed past people toward where you were hoping to find your friends. As you walked into the dressing room corridor, you nearly collided with a silky dress shirt.

"Yn! I can't believe I found you," Ten chuckled.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him in an affectionate embrace. "Ten! I can't believe you found me either. It's a madhouse here." You scanned the faces and bodies buzzing about for any sign of your friends. "Have Mark, Yeri, or Seungkwan found you yet? They have the flowers I was gonna give you."

Ten's lips curled up into a smile as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Gasp, you got me flowers?"

"Yes, and please never say 'gasp' aloud ever again," you winced.

That only made his smile grow. "No promises. But what'd you think of the show tonight? I'm glad you stayed the whole time."

"It was incredible! You were incredible," you amended with your eyes likely the shape of stars. "Who gave you the absolute audacity to be so talented, sir! I swear I heard some girl faint a couple rows behind me," you joked.

His eyes narrowed into sly, little crescents. "Oh? And did you faint for mine, too? Or did you save that reaction for another special someone?"

You flushed, your eyes averting to anywhere but the nosy feline before you.

Ten threw his head back in a loud guffaw. "Okay, okay. I see how it is. He's been looking for you, by the way."

Your eyes went wide. "And you wait until now to tell me?"

"I wanted my dose of Yn affection, too," he shrugged, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Plus, the look on your face was well worth it."

"Sometimes I hate you."

"Some is not all," he pointed out.

"—you said she was over here? Yn!"

Yours and Ten's heads turned and you watched as Changmin's eyes found yours in the crowded room. He began pushing his way toward you, sweat still dampening the strands of hair and falling into the collar of the dark blazer he wore for Light a Flame.

Ten snickered under his breath. "Well, I'm gonna go find Mark to get my flowers. Text me later, 'kay? Okay!"

Before you could blink, Ten had disappeared into the masses. You swore that man was so slippery sometimes.

You glanced back in the direction that you saw Changmin coming from,but when you couldn't find him, you frowned. It really was awfully hard to find people in here…

"Boo!"

You swore your soul left your body for five seconds. You whirled around, glaring daggers at the impish squirrel man who somehow ended up behind you. "You're such a menace."

Changmin grinned so wide it looked like even his dimples were strained. "Sorry," he wheezed, not sounding sorry at all. "The opportunity presented itself on a gold-plated platter."

"You should feel very lucky that I wasn't holding lemonade this time."

"Okay, but why were you drinking that without a cap on the cup? Did they not give you a plastic lid or something?"

You felt the corner of your mouth lift. How was it so easy to recall these things? "It's just the universe telling you to end your pranks."

He shrugged helplessly. "I can't help that you are so easy to sneak up on."

"You're gonna say that when I somehow heard you asking if I was in here from across the room?"

"That's because I let you hear that; there's a difference," he said, leaning against the corridor wall next to you. He looked you up and down, tongue darting out for a moment. "Thanks for coming tonight."

You leaned your shoulder against the wall next to him. "I enjoyed myself," you said in reply. "You did really well tonight though, Changmin. It was a great performance."

He grinned, and his tongue had to poke the inside of his cheek. "Just great?"

You raised your eyebrows at him and decided to bypass that question for the moment. "Did my friends give you your flowers?"

Changmin showed his empty hands and you deadpanned.

"What?" He giggled. "I'm just stating the obvious."

"You're so infuriating sometimes."

He gently bumped your shoulder with his. "Nothing new."

Nothing new, indeed. It was strange, actually, falling into this kind of easygoing, light-hearted banter. You'd seen how easy it was that night in the lab, but this was nice, you had to admit. Banter and arguing were two different things, you learned, and the latter always took such a toll on those involved.

How did the two of you stay away for so long? Maybe you were both too prideful, too afraid to break the ice.

Changmin's expression sobered a little as he observed your expression. "What're you thinking about?"

You blinked, glancing over at him. "Nothing, just…" Your voice lowered to something like a whisper, "I missed this." I missed you.

And as you met his eyes again, you knew that he had heard you. He swallowed, roughly. "Me too."

EPISODE THIRTEEN: OFF THE CUFF

THE quad was in bloom with the coming of spring and spring break. It was tradition at your university to take pictures and to take a stroll through the freshly bloomed cherry blossom trees lining the rectangular lawn. Only in spring did the trees reveal their beautiful, baby pink flowers, so it was optimal to go frolic amongst them while they were full.

Changmin had been dragged out by Chanhee. Well, he liked to say that Chanhee forced him outside, but in reality, Changmin had put just as much effort into his appearance today as Chanhee did, just not as formal. And luckily, it wasn't just the two best friends who were out with them among the crowd of people, but also the entirety of their friend group—plus the significant others, too.

"I hate this more than Valentine's Day," Sunwoo grumbled as he blew a curl out of his eyes. He was referring to the couples all around them taking pictures and holding hands and kissing.

"You're telling me," Kevin sighed as he messed with the settings on his camera for the pictures he wanted to take of the scenery. "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."

Sangyeon had his phone out and was already taking photos of the blooming flowers around him and in the trees. He suddenly turned his phone around, set at point five zoom. "Hey guys, look here and smile!"

Everyone in the shot (all the singles: Chanhee, Changmin, Sunwoo, Kevin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae) slapped smiles onto their faces. As soon as Sangyeon put the phone down, their smiles dropped.

"Who was that for?" Juyeon asked as he slung an arm around Sangyeon's shoulder to peer at the eldest's phone screen. He made a groaning noise before peeling away. "Ahhhh, 'The Girlfriend'. I see."

Sangyeon cocked a brow at him. "Have you finally accepted that I have a girlfriend?"

"Nope."

Sangyeon's eyes looked up and away in exasperation, before he shook his head and returned to doing whatever he was doing.

Changmin surveyed the crowded quad with disinterest. He scanned all of the faces present around him; too many to count that was for sure. Jacob and JC!Yn had separated from them almost immediately; Eric and his girlfriend were off being cute or something; Younghoon and his partner hadn't even traveled here with most of them; but at least Haknyeon and his significant other stayed with them for the first five minutes to make conversation about the dance showcase a few nights ago.

He sighed. That was how long ago it had been since he last saw you. (My god, he sounded like some kind of lovesick teenager, waiting by the landline for his lover to ring him up—)

On the other side of the quad, you and your friends had just arrived to do the same exact thing Changmin's friends were. But as soon as you saw the crowd, you were five seconds from simply giving up.

"We'd get like, one flower, and that's it," Seungkwan argued to Yeri who was trudging forward despite the load of people around.

Yeri huffed. "Not if you don't try, Boo Seungkwan."

He made a noise of disgruntlement, his head lifting up and nostrils flaring. "Oh my god—"

"Yn, my wife, defend my honor!"

You snapped up straight, tuning back into the conversation. Mark and Jungwoo trailed somewhere behind the three of you and if you weren't careful, you'd lose them, too. "Huh? Oh, well, Seungkwan…" Your voice trailed off, and your eyes wandered to a specific gathering of trees further down the lawn from where you currently were.

It was unfair how he was framed like a K-Drama shot: the slow motion pink petals drifting around him, his lithe body gracefully leaning against the dark bark of the cherry blossom tree, the green sweater vest layered over a white shirt and pants. You gulped—he looked way too pretty to just be standing there—

"—hello? Earth to Yn?" A hand was waving in front of your face and someone was poking your shoulder.

You shook away from them, eyes wide like a child with your hand caught in the cookie jar. "Huh?"

Seungkwan and Yeri sent you curious looks. "You were staring at Changmin," said Yeri, arms crossing over her chest.

Seungkwan let out a dramatically wistful, little sigh as he scratched the side of his head. "You're so lucky that Ten's not here; we are so very merciful compared to him."

You rolled your eyes, even though they were right. "I wasn't staring! I just—I couldn't tell if it was really him or not."

"Because I'm just so breathtakingly beautiful?"

"Definitely n—what the fuck," you yelped, nearly leaping out of your skin again at the right of Changmin's dimpled smile as he seemingly appeared out of thin air right next to you.

Changmin erupted into howling laughter, folding over onto his knees as he slapped his leg once, twice—

"You're not even that funny," you grumbled, side-eyeing both him and your friends. (Guess you really did lose Mark and Jungwoo…)

Seungkwan and Yeri did not hide their own laughs very well, but they definitely weren't knee-slapping themselves.

"How'd you even cover so much ground that fast?" You queried, whirling back on Changmin.

He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, his hands resting in the pockets of pants as he stood in a relaxed posture. His skin was unfairly pretty in this lighting, like his smile. "I harnessed my inner squirrel."

"You mean your inner furry?"

Seungkwan and Yeri chose this moment to slip away, calling out something like "we're just gonna go walk a tree" before bowing out. Changmin feigned an expression of offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "Rude! It's called athleticism."

You wrinkled your nose. "Like you know what athleticism is."

"I'll race you to the stairs over there right now—HEY, CHEATER! I DIDN'T SAY GO—" Despite his indignant squawk, Changmin's cheeks hurt from how hard he grinned as he raced after you toward the stairs at the other end of the lawn.

— ✶

"So… no Ten today?"

After a daring race, you and Changmin settled on top of the stairs overlooking the entire lawn. The sun hung at golden hour position and painted the landscape and people below in beautiful, buttery gold wash. You even swore you saw Chanhee chasing after Sunwoo with a handful of loose cherry blossom petals, no doubt to dump into the latter's hair.

You looked over to where Changmin was leaning back onto his palms next to you. "This again?"

He pursed his lips. "Well, I mean," he drawled, "you guys are pretty close. I just figured you'd do this kind of thing together."

"That's fair," you conceded. "Uh, he's actually on a trip with a couple of his frat brothers this week. Something like backpacking in Switzerland."

Changmin gave an indulgent nod of his head. "Wow. Switzerland."

"I know, right?"

He peered out into the distance, eyes squinting against the strength of the sun, but he looked like an art piece nonetheless. “You and Ten aren’t, like, together? Are you?”

You tilted your head to the side. Interesting question. “No, we’re friends. I think in the beginning it might have felt like something on that level, but we’ve both—I think we’re both on the same page where we stand with each other.” You didn’t know why you were telling him so much; he’d only asked you a question. But speaking of being together with someone… You coughed, “Sumin told me what happened during the interview a couple weeks ago.”

Changmin smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “Oh, ha, she did? I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“That she liked me? No,” he laughed with a shake of his head. He leaned forward onto his knees then, turning his head to the side to look at you with his fingers laced over his knees. “Who do you take me for, hm? I couldn’t just assume she had a crush on me.”

You feigned a look of disagreement, and he gasped, shoving your upper arm playfully. “I’m not that bad!” He exclaimed.

“You could be that bad,” you teased.

You watched as his expression cooled and the air around the two of you shifted. There was an earnestness in his eyes now, emphasized by the brilliance of the setting sun reflecting across his smooth lines of his face. “Have you ever thought about, you know, like trying to dance again?”

You weren’t sure what prompted this change in subject, but you gave it a thought. “I definitely have,” you said honestly, “I just can’t really step into a practice room without getting nervous.” You picked at a stray thread on your pants as you spoke and felt his gaze on you. “That night—the one when you saw me in front of the performing arts hall really late at night—I was trying to get myself to go in. To at least… try, y’know. Maybe prove to myself that I could work up the courage to go in, but I couldn’t.”

Changmin was quiet for a moment. His knees angled themselves toward you, and he leaned forward so his chest practically laid over his legs. “I said a lot of bad things to you in senior year,” he said lowly. “They were stupid—I was stupid. And—and if your anxiety with practice rooms comes from me, then—”

“Changmin,” you interrupted and captured his attention. You shifted to mimic his body positioning, so your eyes were level and you were both just as small as the other. “I said really shitty things to you, too.”

“I told you that you should quit,” he rasped. He had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see the silver pooling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Yn; I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

You heard his sniffle over all of the chatter from the lawn below and you moved closer to him until your legs and arms were pressed together. You wrapped an arm around him, only for him to raise himself up and practically drape himself over you, his arms looped around your upper body and his face tucked into the side of your neck. Your heart tripped over itself in surprise, but you let yourself lean into his body heat.

“I’m sorry, too. I know you didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t mean any of what I said either.” You breathed for a moment and sighed, simply allowing him to stay in your arms for however long he needed. “I think,” you started, “even after three years, I still blame myself for letting all of that get to me. Sometimes, I want to go back in time and slap some sense into myself; maybe tell myself that I shouldn’t have let what my mom said bury itself so deep inside me. I mean… where would I be now had I not listened to her?”

Changmin pulled away then, resting his forearms on his legs again, but he didn’t back away from you. “You were just a kid, Yn. You can’t blame yourself.”

You rested your cheek against your fist. “I know. It’s hard not to, though.”

“I know.” He took another look at you, and you felt his eyes really take you in for a moment. The corner of his lips lifted. “Are you happy?”

“With?”

“With how you turned out? Where you ended up?”

You held your breath. It was a good question, and as you turned to search yourself inwardly, you came to a couple of conclusions. “In a way, I am. It’s probably just bitterness and regret I feel when I wonder what could have been, but maybe things happen for a reason.”

He nodded, his hand reaching up to pick out a stray leaf that had fallen into your hair. “We can always make up for lost time now,” he said. “We never did get to finish that duet.”

EPISODE FOURTEEN: [GET] OFF THE GROUND

THE next day, you found yourself standing outside the back door to the performing arts building. Because it was spring break, a large helping of the student population had abandoned campus as soon as their finals were over, leaving the place barren except for the area with the cherry blossoms. You stood next to Changmin, the latter holding his bag by the strap over his shoulder. You had been staring at the door for more than a minute now, trying to slow the palpitations of your heart.

“We can leave whenever you want to,” he murmured to you, the back of his hand nudging yours. “Let’s just try.”

You got yourself to nod.

The hallways were uncharacteristically quiet compared to the previous couple of times you had been back here. Since there was no one else here, you and Changmin got to pick whichever practice room you wanted. The largest one was the winner, and the lights flickered on to wash the shadows away. You immediately moved to one side of the room to set your things down, and Changmin went to his corner by the speaker. He was already hooking up his phone to the aux cord, but kept one eagle-eye on you as you inhaled the sight of the empty room around you.

As usual, your throat began closing in on itself, and you coaxed yourself into taking deep breaths.

You started out on the floor in front of the mirror, your legs crossed over each other and Changmin’s phone in your hands. Changmin had shouldered off his white athletic jacket, and began stretching as you swiped through the selection of music on his phone. The two of you collectively agreed for you to start off just watching. Once you were comfortable in the practice room environment, and if you wanted to dance, you would join him whenever you were ready. If you were never ready, then you could continue to just watch him and cheer him on during the practice.

You watched him card a hand through his hair as he peered at himself in the mirror behind you. “I always thought this mirror made you vain,” you chuckled, your hand having settled into your lap instead of at the base of your throat.

He furrowed his brows at you. His hands rested on his hips, the muscle in his forearms emboldening from the action. “Rude. I think you were the one who made me vain.”

“The fuck? How so?” You challenged.

“You always said you admired my facial expressions and my pretty smile,” he grinned at your reaction, snickering to himself. “Did you pick a song yet?”

You watched him dance. For the first few songs that played on shuffle, he was simply warming up his body and freestyling to whatever he heard. You knew Changmin was no stranger to people watching him dance, but there was something still so intimate about watching him in this space. You could watch him create things like magic, as well as watch him fumble and laugh at his own misgivings. Except, instead of doing it all by himself, his eyes would find yours and smile.

Next quarter, Changmin was supposedly signed on to be a TA for one of the dance courses, so he asked for your opinion on a few of his ideas for choreographies he could teach.

After showing you his second idea, he gestured to you then looked back at himself in the mirror. “What do you think? I’m not sure if writing something for each nuance in the beat would be a bit too much or if it’s something that should be used as a challenge routine.”

You hummed in understanding. “Well, if it’s an intermediate dance course, then I think it could be worked up to. Are these people dance majors or… maybe minoring in dance?”

He nodded when you said the latter. “Supposedly, they aren’t necessarily dance majors. But yeah, I agree—it could probably be brought out later in the quarter instead.” He made a motion with his hand as he backpedaled a couple steps to give himself more room between you and him. “Could you rewind to the first verse again? I wanna see something.”

You obliged him and rewinded the song to his desired timestamp. He tried out another possible set of choreo, but ended up stopping halfway through the chorus.

Again and again, you rewinded the song for him to try something new, but each time, he was met with his own dissatisfaction.

You suddenly stood, setting his phone on the ground with the song having been rewinded just slightly before the intended timestamp. Your hands were shaky and your heart was probably beating at an unhealthy speed, but you needed to try out something.

Changmin’s eyes opened wide as you came to stand next to him, but he said nothing. Instead, he let you loosely show him what you had concocted in your head while watching him go through trial after trial.

Before you knew what was happening, the two of you were weaving your ideas together, taking pieces of his original choreography and amending it with yours. You had watched him from the beginning so many times that you didn’t need long to pick up on the rest. By the end, the two of you had danced the entirety of the song together, your chest rising and falling fast with the speed of your breath.

Changmin released an exclamatory yell, thrusting his fist to the ceiling, then clasping your hand with his. “Let’s go! I really like that, Yn,” he said with his face split by a shit-eating grin.

Your heart was bursting again, not with nerves, but something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. You brushed the hair from your eyes, a satisfied beam set on your face. “I like it, too.”

There was a sheen akin to pride in his eyes. “I wanna show you something,” he said, walking over to his phone with a skip in his step. “Stay there! I wanna teach you this bit of choreo that’s been living in my head for a while now.”

And so, you followed Changmin’s instructions as he put on a groovy-type beat. The routine was simple enough—looks-wise. But if you knew anything about the things Changmin choreographed, the difficulty was all in the subtlety and technique. When you were younger, the appeal between you and Changmin as partners were that you were practically foils for each other. While Changmin ruled the arena of sharp, focused isolations and movements, your area of expertise laid in bigger, fuller movements like that of a brushstroke. When you had watched Juyeon and Changmin’s performance during the winter showcase, you supposed that was why they were able to complement each other well. It was essentially what you and Changmin were, in combination.

The longer you and Changmin danced, the more your chest filled with air and warmth and love and happiness. The guilt and fear from before had melted away to reveal this suppressed portion of you that had been hidden for a long time.

At some point, the two of you were just messing around, and ended up sprawled on the polished wood floor of the practice room clutching your stomachs while choking on laughter.

Changmin rolled onto his side, eyes still squinted in delight as he tried to get a grip of his breathing. “Is your back okay?” He managed to wheeze between gasps and howls.

You wiped a tear that crept out from your eye. “No! I just tried carrying a fifty-something-kg man on my back. Do you think I’m okay?”

“In my defense,” he said, peering down at you as he rose into a sitting position and leaned back onto his palms, “you claimed you were stronger than me and could be the base.”

“A warning would have been nice!” You exclaimed. You rolled onto your stomach, laying your chin over your arms. “No one in their right mind just jumpscares people like that.”

“Have you met me?”

“Fair enough.”

A remnant of that merriment remained on his lips as he felt around the floor around him for where his phone had fallen out of his pants pocket. He caught a glimpse of the time, sighing, then raking a hand through his hair. “It’s already one o’clock. Are you hungry? Wanna get lunch or something?”

“Sure, what do you feel like?” You asked, eyes following his movements as he clambered up to his feet and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

He pressed his lips together in thought, humming, “Dunno. Fast food maybe?”

You rolled into a sitting position, similar to the one he had been in just moments before. “Okay.”

“Come on; let’s get up then.” He offered a hand out to you, and you clasped his forearm tightly.

In one fell motion, Changmin swept you upright and to your feet—but he used a little too much pulling force, and you were stumbling into him, palms pressed flat against his chest, and his arms coming around your waist. You held your breath as the two of you fought to stabilize the other.

“Shit, sorry about that,” he muttered from above you with a low chuckle.

You opened your mouth to reply, but as you raised your head to meet his eyes and not just his Adam’s apple, you lost all your breath. There was barely a hairsbreadth distance between your face and his. Changmin came to the same determination as you had and his eyes went wide.

A curious thing happened. His pupils dilated, and his eyes darted down to your mouth and his tongue swiped over his own to dampen them.

Your breath as you exhaled was as unsteady as your heart rate.

You felt his hold on your tighten slightly; his Adam’s apple bobbed. And then he was leaning forward, his eyes fluttering closed—

He kissed you then.

His lips were soft over your own with the slightest bit of pressure, nose nudging the side of your cheek.

Your hands moved up the plane of his chest to grasp his toned shoulders; he shifted his left hand to cradle the back of your head.

Wait, what is happening—

You both pulled away, as if the same thought had echoed through both of your heads at the same time.

Panic leapt into the two of you and you jolted away when the distinct sound of Boss by some group called Neo Culture Technology blasted throughout the quiet practice room.

"Fuck," you swore. You glanced back at Changmin and saw the question, the uncertainty, the—you couldn't even tell. Your mind was everywhere and nowhere at once. You could still feel his mouth on yours. "That—that's Doyoung's ringtone. I have to take this."

"Okay," he whispered inaudibly, and you slipped out from his hold.

With your back to him, he rubbed his hands down his face and an indescribable emotion seized his chest. He rubbed a thumb over his lips…

"Doyoung, you need to calm down," you said as Doyoung's voice quite literally rambled at lightspeed into your ear.

You heard your friend take one deep breath, then repeat, "I think one of these final draft files are corrupted. I'm freaking the fuck out right now, and I know you're not out of town, so if you could please—for the sake of my sanity—come to the office and help me!" He was pleading, begging, and Kim Doyoung did not beg. He sounded like one hair-pull from dropping down to his knees.

In any other context, you would have wanted to record this for the history books. Any other context.

Your eyes darted over to Changmin who was still standing in the middle of the room, hands tucked into his pockets, and gaze pinned to you.

You couldn't just—leave? Could you? Not after that—

Then you caught Changmin nodding his head in the direction of the door, his head cocking to the side in silent question. Do you need to go? He mouthed.

You pursed your lips with a reluctant nod. Something's wrong with the paper.

Then go. We'll talk after.

Talk. Yup. You started grabbing your things and you squeezed your phone between your ear and shoulder. "—okay okay, Doyoung. Can you stop wasting your energy for me, and tell me exactly what the screen is telling you?"

You began making your way to the door, but halted in the doorway. You hesitated, turning back to look at Changmin. You really shouldn't leave—but you had to.

"Yn."

You grabbed your phone and pressed the speaker into your shoulder. "Yes?" It sounded breathless.

Desperation gleamed like silver in his eyes. One did not often see that emotion from Ji Changmin. "Don't shut me out."

EPISODE FIFTEEN: OFF THE BOOKS

THE first person that came to mind was Choi Chanhee. "What—"

"I kissed her!" Changmin blurted, hand slapping over his mouth.

"You what?!"

— ✶

You were breathless, brain muddled, a hot mess of a shitshow, when you got to the Daily. The rest of the Board members were on break, including your resident tech expert, so you had assured Doyoung that you were free if he needed anything. (If you weren't deeply regretting that now though.)

You had fast walked all the way from the performing arts center to the Daily's newsroom, effectively cutting travel time down from ten minutes to seven, even with your bag of items. Though, it definitely didn't help your headspace. You could hardly think about Changmin, the kiss, and a corrupted file all at the same time. Not to mention, you finally managed to wrangle Doyoung off the phone with you so he could go splash water on his face to calm the fuck down.

The newsroom was dark when you got there, but you saw the light from Doyoung's office shining down the corridor. He was seated behind his desk, his expression a lot more calm than he sounded from the phone, but his face and bangs were a bit damp, meaning he had actually gone to wash his face. Good.

He saw you trudging down the hall, your baby hairs flying everywhere, and your breath coming out in pants. He noticed the bag slung over your shoulder and had the nerve to ask, "Oh, were you on the way somewhere?"

You sent him a pained stare and collapsed into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"You look stressed."

"Changmin and I kissed."

Doyoung's eyes nearly fell out of his head and his body was half an inch from falling out of his chair. "HUH?"

Your head craned back against the back of the chair. "I know."

"Girl, why are you here then?"

"You said it was an emergency!" You cried, straightening. You didn't even acknowledge the fact that Doyoung had just called you "girl". "Now, let's work this file situation out."

Doyoung moved his laptop further away from you. "Oh, nuh-uh, Missy. You're gonna just send me your copy, and then you're gonna go on your merry way back to Mr. Dancer Man and kiss him again."

Your face scrunched up. "Hello?" What was in the sink water in this building…

"Did you talk about it? Are you two dating now?"

"Doyoung," you whined, scrubbing a hand over your face, "you literally called right after we kissed."

Doyoung made a noise of disappointment. "Damn, I'm never gonna live this down."

"Seungkwan's gonna call you a cockblocker for the rest of your life," you muttered in agreement.

He snorted. "You said it, not me." He sobered then, closing the lid of his laptop so he could lace his fingers over it and fix you with a serious expression. "So how do you feel? Tell me what happened."

You twisted and dropped your bag to the ground by your feet, moving your chair closer to the desk so you could drape your upper half on top of the cool surface. "We were dancing—"

"Really?"

"Mhm," you hummed against the table. "It was… it was really nice, Doie. I actually had fun. And then we just—I don't even know—we played around a little and he was helping me up off the ground, and suddenly we were kissing."

Doyoung's brows furrowed together. "Ah, I see. Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?"

"He kissed me, but I didn't stop him." You could recall the look in his eyes with a striking amount of clarity. "I… I don't really know what it all means, or what it means to me. I'm a little confused, if I'm honest."

He sighed. "And that's okay. I think this is something you definitely need to go back and talk to him about though, hm?"

"Yeah."

"But Yn," he continued, reaching over to rub the top of your head and get you to look up, "did you ever have feelings for the guy?"

You slowly raised yourself up from the table with a frown on your face. "When I was a kid, I didn't really see anyone else but him," you confessed, almost unconsciously. You hadn't known what the feeling you harbored for him was back then, but maybe you could seek to understand it now.

Doyoung made a vague gesture with his hand as he sat back in his chair. "Well, that's a start for sure. But you and he have been on rocky terrain for years now. You're not kids anymore and a lot of things have changed." He was right, in some sense. You and Changmin had spent three years convincing yourselves you didn't need each other. Perhaps it had been the opposite the entire time, but what did it all mean?

"I'm glad to have him in my life again," you said quietly. "I think I've always felt… different about Changmin than any other friend I've had before, y'know? It was just unconscious in a way."

"Would you want to act on that then? See where it goes?"

You let his questions resonate around your head for a minute. But the more you thought about it, the more certain you became of your answer.

— ✶

The back corridors of the performing arts hall were just as dark as it was when you had left. For a moment, you were afraid that Changmin had left. But as you neared the practice room from earlier, you could make out the sounds of voices drifting from the cracked open door of the room.

You strained your ears—who was that with Changmin?

You reached the door, quietly pressing yourself against the wall to peer in through the cracked doorway. There, sitting opposite Changmin on the practice room floor, was Chanhee.

"—think about it, Changmin," said Chanhee as he dropped his friend by the shoulders to keep him from sulking. "She kissed you back. Don't you think that means something?"

"She could've just been caught up in the moment," Changmin countered. "She could've—" He made a frustrated noise and threw his hands out in front of him, "Maybe I just don't want to be disappointed."

Chanhee frowned. "Disappointed… that she doesn't return your feelings? Changmin, can you be honest with me for a second?"

He gave a solemn nod.

"Those feelings you had for her when you were a kid—have they ever gone away?"

You had to back away from the door and press your palm against your mouth. But because of that, you weren't able to catch Changmin's answer. Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your hands shaking as your thoughts raced in your head. You had to open the door now. You'd already intruded when you eavesdropped on their conversation.

Sucking in a breath, you pushed the door open wider. No going back now.

Changmin and Chanhee were both frozen in place when you poked your head into the room. The former paled in the warm-toned practice room lights, and you saw him gulp.

"Yn!" Chanhee laughed nervously as he and his friend both scrambled to their feet. His car keys jangled noisily from where they hung on a clip from his belt loop. "Uhm, I think I should leave," he said, clearing his throat and brushing past you.

You grabbed your arm as you shuffled into the room and gently kicked the door closed behind you.

Changmin cupped the back of his neck. "How much did you hear?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the open glisten in his eyes, the pure vulnerability lying stark on his face. It felt like you were seventeen again, standing alone together in the practice room, not really sure what the other person would say or do or feel.

"What did Chanhee mean by you having feelings for me when we were kids?" You asked.

The silence was palpable. "You really didn't know?"

No, you shook your head, definitely not. "I—I mean, no. Not really. I guess I always thought… I don't know what I thought."

He braced both hands behind his head now, his eyes tilted back toward the ceiling. "Yn," he said before looking you in the eyes again, "every time I saw you, I saw someone who put the fucking stars in the sky. If you watch any of our videos from back then—" He pushed out a haggard breath from his mouth. "I could never not care for you, could never stop caring for you. It hurt a lot when we stopped being us because I thought I…"

His hands fell to his sides, helpless. "I thought I lost you. And then it felt like you hated me, so I tried to hate you, too. And then we worked shit out. And then…" Changmin brushed his bangs back and was unable to look you in the eyes for longer than a second with each glance. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I don't want to lose you again, Yn."

Your heart thundered in your ears so loud that you almost thought he could hear it, even from so far away. You got yourself to take a step forward, and then another.

Changmin waited as you walked closer to him, his lips pressed together.

You inhaled. "Changmin, I can't say for sure what I felt for you back then, and I definitely can't articulate my feelings for you as well as you just did—" His eyes clashed with yours, that energy colliding, "—but I'm not sorry you kissed me, or that I kissed you."

You thought you heard his breath hitch for a moment.

"I don't want to lose you again, either," you said and tentatively reached for his hands. Never in your years of knowing him had you known a moment where his fingers trembled like they did now. "And I—I really want to see where this goes. Would you want to see where this goes with me?"

His fingers curled around yours as he nodded. "Yes."

EPISODE SIXTEEN: OFF [MY] FACE

"WHAT about that one?"

"Don't touch that one."

"Will it burn my skin off?" Changmin asked in a sleepy daze as one hand rubbed his eye and the other reached for the gallon of liquid that sat behind a locked cabinet with a clearly marked DO NOT TOUCH. DANGER. plastered on the side.

"Yes," you said without looking up from your organic chemistry textbook.

Changmin's hand dropped immediately and he turned to send a look your way. "Well, that's not very safe."

His hoodie-covered head began bumbling back over to you through the maze of workbenches. It was the first week back to school from spring break, thus, the very first week of the spring quarter. You and Changmin were currently in your regular lab space that you unofficially dubbed your study area. Kun was in the break room probably half asleep over a bag of shrimp chips, and Ten… Ten was somewhere around here. Maybe he got lost down the hallway looking for the bathroom or something.

Changmin had come to hang out with you though, even though he was practically a walking baby giraffe as drowsiness possessed his whole being. But he insisted on staying until you went home.

"It's actually just distilled water," you said with a chuckle. "The lab professors just don't want people using it because for some reason, the convenience stores around here are always out, and they don't want to go hunting for more."

You felt him drape over your back with a fwump. "I love when you talk dirty to me," he said through a rather large yawn.

You grinned to yourself, shaking your head. "Okay, I think we need to get you home."

"Not before you take me to dinner first."

"Are you sure you're not drunk?"

You packed your things up quickly, especially when you saw Changmin nodding off while standing upright. It was already around nine o'clock by the time you said good night to Kun and located Ten (yeah, he'd gone looking for the bathroom and almost gotten locked in a supply closet instead).

Changmin tried to convince you he was okay to drive, but by the way he couldn't even figure out that his keys were hanging on his belt loop, it was safe to say that you were driving tonight. The drive over to Changmin and Chanhee's apartment was an easy one since they lived in the university district and the streets were quite barren at this point. You helped him up to the apartment, greeting Chanhee who was in a fluffy pink robe and matching headband.

"Hi Chanhee," you sighed as you pushed Changmin into the bathroom to shower.

Chanhee looked on in ill-concealed amusement. "He'll be much better after he showers," he reassured you from his perch on the couch. You saw the page-long math problems spread out on the coffee table and held in a gag.

"Dear god, I hope so."

Chanhee directed you to where Changmin's room was and you dumped both yours and his backpacks on the floor by his desk. You actually had yet to step foot in here until now, so while Changmin was doing his thing in the bathroom, you let your eyes roam all around the room. It was relatively clean (emphasis on relatively) with walls that were minimally decorated. There was a whole separate rack of shirts and jackets left outside the small wardrobe, and you recognized a couple of them.

You leaned over his desk to see what he had posted on the wall above it. There were a couple dozen printed photographs of him and his friends, as well as an award or two that were big in name and no doubt special to him. You felt yourself smile; you didn't have to be up here, but you liked seeing his smile in all of these pictures.

And then you saw it.

There was a printed copy of a review pinned amongst the pandemonium of memorabilia. The layout of the page was incredibly familiar, and with widened eyes, you realized that it was a review from the Daily's Opera Glasses.

In fact, as you squinted and skimmed, it was your review from freshman year. It was your (anonymous) review about his debut winter showcase performance.

Wow.

You barely registered Changmin shuffling into the room in slippers and a bathrobe of his own, his dark hair still dripping with water.

He passed you a glance while heading for his wardrobe. "Hey, do you wanna stay over?"

You definitely weren't prepared for that question. "Stay over?" You parroted dumbly. "Also, you have an Opera Glasses review printed out?" Your hand gestured to the sheet of paper pinned to the wall.

Changmin's head turned and he abandoned the wardrobe to walk over to you and his desk. You pressed yourself against the wall to the side to give him space to look. "Ah," he said with a boyish grin, "that was yours, wasn't it?"

"How the hell could you tell?"

He leaned in close to you, bracing an arm above your head. The smell of his shampoo was strong and you came to the realization that he was still in a bathrobe. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You don't think I could tell what your writing voice sounded like?" He asked, his voice suddenly lowered.

You inched forward, a dare. "Are you gonna get dressed, Changmin?"

His smile widened. "I could," he teased.

"Hey! Can you guys close the door or keep it down? Some of us are single and have math homework!"

Both you and Changmin laughed at Chanhee's outburst even though your face was definitely heated up.

Changmin took advantage of your unassuming state and pressed his mouth to yours, tasting your laughter on his tongue until you could only taste his in return. It was a dizzying sort of kiss, his arm still above you and his other curled around your waist.

When he pulled away, he bit his lip around a smirk. "I'll get changed now."

Criminal. Absolutely criminal.

He indeed got changed. And so did you. Apparently, he was being serious about you staying the night, and soon enough, you found yourself buried beneath his covers and swept in his very clingy arms. Not that you were complaining; he smelled nice.

You and Changmin laid facing each other in the darkness of his room. Round spectacles sat awkwardly on his nose bridge since the side of his face was pressed against the pillow, but he said he wouldn't take them off until he was just about to drift off.

"Yn-ie."

"Hm?"

He giggled, turning over and reaching over the side of his bed for something. You were about to question what he was doing until he quite literally shoved his wretched Chucky doll into your face.

"What the flying fuck—" You glared at the toy and its creepy stitched face. You had been startled by it, but you had grown used to it after having to deal with his obsession with the damn thing in the last two years of high school.

Changmin hugged the abomination to his chest as he snickered loudly.

"I thought you got rid of that thing."

"You clearly don't know me well enough."

You began to sit up and make a show of throwing off the covers. "I'm leaving—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" He blubbered, grabbing your upper arm and yanking you back down onto the bed next to him.

He leaned over you, his Chucky doll still tucked in the crook of his arm, as Changmin pouted. The glasses were practically sliding off his nose and his hair was sticking up in the back. What a duality. "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not cuddling with Chucky, Changmin."

"But—"

"I will go ask Chanhee for an extra blanket."

Changmin's pout contorted into a scowl. "I'll murder him."

You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of this conversation. "I think you need to go to sleep."

He flopped back onto the bed next to you, reluctantly setting Chucky back down on the floor next to the bed where the wretched thing had been hiding this whole time. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally able to breathe easy, you settled back into Changmin's arms. He tucked you against his chest, his chin settled on top of your head. You felt him shift as he took his glasses off and reached behind him to set them on the nightstand.

You were just drifting off to sleep to the melody of his heart beat when: "Yn?"

"Hm?"

His lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I missed you."

You knew what he meant. You pressed a kiss to his chest and heard the shuddering breath that fell from his lips. "I missed you, too."

EPISODE SEVENTEEN (EPILOGUE): [ON OUR TERMS]

THE problem with the restaurant was that it reminded you of something like the word "home". The sign above the door was made with some common font that one could find on Microsoft Word and you were pretty sure they only took cash, too. There was a reason you had chosen this restaurant in particular, and it was because you thought that eating at a place with your comfort foods would, well, comfort you. But you had been staring at the front for a minute or two now, and you weren't sure it was working.

From beside you, you felt someone take your hand in his. "We don't have to go in," said Changmin, his expression blank and reserved as he looked at the eatery, but softened a considerable amount when he looked over at you.

Your mother was waiting for you in there, somewhere. You wanted to finally talk to her—maybe make some peace with yourself. You'd told Changmin about it, and he insisted on coming as moral support.

You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "I can't just not go, Changmin."

His touch was gentle as his thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles, just as gentle as his voice was, "You don't owe her anything, Yn. You deserve an apology from her and you deserve closure, but you don't owe her anything. Not after what she put you through."

You were quiet for a moment and your free hand brushed over the hollow of your throat where the tightening sensation was.

Changmin added, "I'll support whatever decision you come to."

You considered the restaurant again. It had always held a great amount of significance and comfort for you. Did you want to ruin that with a potentially sour conversation? For all you knew, this could end incredibly poorly.

But… there were some things that needed to be done.

You steeled your resolve. "Ready?"

Changmin, all dapper in his dress shirt and pants and styled hair, flashed you a dimpled smile. "Whenever you are."

a/n: wow ... anyways lol thanks for getting through that madness, and hope u enjoyed!! pls do consider reblogging, commenting, or sending an ask to my inbox teehee i would really appreciate it ! now, onto hyunjae's ! >:)

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#kflixnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #q x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabble #the boyz fluff #the boyz oneshot #the boyz angst #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin oneshots #ji changmin drabbles #changmin imagines #changmin oneshot #changmin fluff #changmin angst #changmin scenarios

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xo-urban · 2 years ago

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How about Alejandro x male!reader who got caught in a heavy rain/storm while on a patrol and had to wait it out in one of the abandoned buildings? They were drenched and all their clothes wet, so they made a small fire and took them off so they would dry. So there they were, sitting only in their underwear, trying to keep it cool, but one thing led to another and they started making out, cuz what's more romantic than kissing during a storm? You can add a little of smut at the end if you want, only if you're up to it! Love your fics btw, Im so happy to see a male reader blog with such amazing stories!

Translation for those wondering: Alejandro with a male reader who is his enemy, and they accidentally fuck.

Loved combining these two lovely ideas, enjoy some good ol hate that festered into some romance

On A Cold Rainy Night

Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x Male Reader

Summary: You seek shelter from the storm but happen to spend it out with your ‘sworn enemy’ Alejandro Vargas, gets a little steamy from there.

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers but it’s very short lived 😦, no beta read we die like roach

Word count: 1598

You never chose sides, you went with whatever you were put with. You were a loyal soldier, you wouldn’t leave your boss’s side if given the chance. You worked with Graves and he found you were a great soldier in battle, hence you were his favorite.

You never saw yourself as anything more or less, you made sure of it. You were a loyal dog to Graves as the shadow company’s hound, you did all the tiring dirty work. Yet here you were, lost in a storm with no way to get back.

You shivered, stepping into an abandoned building, you were drenched. You sighed softly, thinking that it would be another night alone as you walked deeper into the building to at least keep yourself a bit more well hidden from anyone bothering to investigate in this harsh weather.

The comforting cackling of fire drew you in, you were freezing in your soaked gear. You haven’t realized when your body moved on its own, turning into the room eagerly, you needed warmth, desperately.

The sound of a gun cocking broke you out of your need, “Don’t fucking move.” The voice came from behind you as you slowly raised your hands to show you didn’t come for a fight. You stood in your spot, only a few steps away from the warming blaze you could really use right now.

“You’re one of the snakes that captured me!” He spat. You bit back a shiver, how could you forget Alejandro? You were the one to supervise him, the one who cracked jokes with him despite the cruel reality of the two of you being enemies.

“It was my job.” You sighed, turning around to meet his cold eyes fueled by hate. You met his eyes, watching them soften at the sight of your face, recognizing your beautiful features. He put his gun away, running his hand through his hair in frustration, cursing at himself in spanish. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Graves?”

“Sent me away on patrol” You replied simply, letting your hands drop as you kneeled beside the burning flame, it didn’t look like it was going for a while at all. “You’re by his side through almost everything I don’t understand.” Alejandro spoke as he kneeled across from you. “I’m as obedient as a dog can be, it’s what I’m referred to.” You spoke, your voice lacked any emotion. “Christ you sound like Ghost yet he’s been cheery as of late.” Alejandro sighed as he began to peel himself out of his unnecessary gear. You hummed in reply, you never really had a simple conversation but it did feel good to at least listen to one.

“Did you come alone?” Alejandro asked, you shook your head, “Went alone,Graves deemed me strong enough to go out here, its one big waste of time” You scoffed, “Deemed me as replaceable.” You snapped, you didn’t mean to get so rude all of a sudden but it was in your nature and your ways. You shivered as you quickly removed your gear, tossing the soaked pieces to the side but still at arm's length, just in case Alejandro were to betray you on this tense night.

You let out a delighted sigh, edging closer to the fire, you could feel Alejandro’s eyes on you. The rain outside thundered loudly, it wasn’t gonna ease up anytime soon so you were stuck here with Alejandro, who seemed calm for the most part.

You shivered harshly, cursing at yourself, your damn clothes were soaked and you could tell Alejandro was holding back a lot to act like the cold didn’t affect him at all. “Can I trust you not to kill me tonight?” You hissed quietly, “A truce?” Alejandro’s brow raised, “Can do that if you do the same.”

“You have my word, I’ll stick to it.” You groaned, shedding yourself out from your cold, damp clothes. A loud audible sigh leaving your lips as you sat comfortably in your pants. Alejandro paused with his mouth slightly open, looking over your scarred torso glistening in the fire light, only shutting his mouth to gulp back a sound. His face was a little red and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Christ I’m so fucking cold-” You shut your eyes as you rubbed your arms up and down to produce some heat. You heard shuffling before arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your shivering eased a little as you sighed, “Thank you..” You smiled softly, leaning back against his chest, his shirt was off and it brought a blush to your face at the realization.

“Think of it as me returning the favor.. for past incidents between you and me” Alejandro whispered, his hot breath fanning against your bare shoulder. You whined, doing your best to stay warm, Alejandro’s hands worked up and down your skin, massaging your tension away with the warmth his hands provided.

You groaned, shifting back against him. He cursed behind you, hands slowing to a stop. “You’ve got to stop moving mi amor..” He groaned. You turned around to meet his eyes before you lowered your gaze, your face immediately burning redder. “Sorry.” You murmured, you didn’t think you would get to this point, yet even have someone to love. You always didn’t have time to love nor even be ‘good enough’ for a lover.

You shivered at the cold air hitting your back as Alejandro reached over to toss a piece of dried wood into the fire to keep it going, dangerously close to you. Yet you wouldn’t deny that you were aroused by the situation.

His hands trailed up and down your waist, murmuring soft compliments about your torso. You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him close. Your heads touched, edging closer to each other’s lips on instinct, your breaths fanning against each other. You let your eyes flutter shut when your lips connected, a moan leaving you from the well needed attention. Alejandro rubbed circles into your waist as a hand reached down to palm you through your pants teasingly slow.

You pulled away with a gasp, body trembling to the touch, not knowing hot react as needy groans left you. “I want you to be loud so I know what I’m doing mi amor.. can you do that? Can you be a good boy?” Alejandro murmured in your ear as he slipped off the rest of your clothes before moving to his own.

“Fuck- I’ll be your good boy, just please..” You whined, you needed anything really, “I’ll take care of you Mi amor, relax..” Alejandro.

Alejandro rubbed your precum on his fingers, lubricating them enough to rub your rim, earning a gasp as you held onto his shoulders tightly. “Ready for this? Not too late to back out..” Alejandro whispered, rubbing your waist reassuringly. You nodded eagerly, lust drunk with a drowsy smile, “Please Alejandro..” You whined, Alejandro pushed a finger in, waiting for you to adjust, rubbing your waist with one hand before it trailed to your hard cock, stroking it to help you focus.

You mewled in pleasure once he began to finger fuck you, you cursed with gasps and moans your legs trembling from the pleasure slightly. “Fuck fuck fuck~ more Alejandro please~!” You moaned, moving your hips against his fingers as your cock throbbed in his hand.

Alejandro pulled his fingers out after stretching you out enough, lining his cock up with your hole. You let out a loud moan when he pulled you down, sitting you down in his lap. Alejandro cursed under his breath as he planted soft kisses to your skin, feeling you tremble from the touch. “What a good boy.. taking me so well..” Alejandro praised, you melted into him at the words, pleading quietly to get him to fuck you already, you felt hot, so hot and needy. You needed to moved but Alejandro’s hands kept you planted.

You squirmed, whining helplessly as he sat their watching you for who knows how long before he started to relentlessly fuck into you with warning, earning a loud string of curses and moans from you as you held onto him tightly for some support.

He pounded into you from underneath, tears welling up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, moaning as you let Alejandro take the lead. He didn’t stop and you enjoyed every merciless thrust, moaning without hesitation. You wanted him to hear you, you wanted to be with him, to be loyal to Alejandro.

“Fuck I’m close mi amor..” Alejandro moaned as he kept thrusting up into your hole, getting sloppier by the second. You shuddered when he hurried deep inside you before releasing, painting your insides white as you came, a moan of relief leaving you followed by a whine as you buried your face into his shoulder.

You didn’t bother to move as Alejandro held you close as you shook, it felt so good to feel loved in the right way. And you couldn’t help but smile as you pulled him into another kiss.

“What about you and me.. we can run away together, live out our lives.. so you never have to work for Graves again..” Alejandro smiled softly as he kissed your face, trailing down to your neck.

“I would love that.. I would love to stay by your side..” You smiled before pulling him into another passionate kiss.

As the rain still poured from the sky on this cold rainy day. Two men of almost complete opposites loved.

#fanfic #fanfiction #male reader #modern warefare 2 #alejandro x male reader #alejandro x reader #smut #enemies to lovers #but it’s kind of shit

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awkwardtickleetoo · 9 months ago

Text

Pretty Kitty

helloooo everyone :D happy (late shh) valentine’s day!!!

welcome to the long awaited kitty george fic!! i made a concept post about it here if anyone is unfamiliar with what i’m talking about, and seeing as this fic is romantic dnf and the concept was created by me and @mushiewrites on the 16th last year, i figured what better time to upload this than right now :D so happy valentine’s day and/or birthday to the kitty george concept <3 you’ve been well loved my sweetheart

also shoutout to mushie and @wishitweresummer for reading this and liking it so much <3

warning: this fic is romantic dnf, so they do kiss quite a bit and they are referred to as boyfriends, and also this is literally only feet tickles and very very heavily favors feet nibbles and kisses. if that’s not your thing, feel free to skip this one!

lee!george, ler!dream, 4.8k words

enjoy!

Dream stood in front of the kitchen sink, bare feet pressed against the cool linoleum as he washed his empty cereal bowl, when he felt two arms wrap around his waist from behind. He looked down and immediately recognized them as his boyfriend’s, letting out a low chuckle as he rinsed the bowl out and placed it on the drying rack, grabbing the glass he used next.

“Hi, baby,” He greeted, earning a soft hum from George as he hugged tighter.

“Hmmm… hi,” George replied, voice muffled, his cheek pressed against Dream’s back.

“Whatcha up to?” Dream asked, rinsing the soap out of the glass and leaving it to dry as well.

“Nothing. Just wanted a hug.”

“Aww, Georgie,” Dream cooed at him through a giggle, reaching over and drying his hands with the dish towel he’d left on the counter. He turned himself around in George’s arms, smiling down at him and wrapping his arms around George’s shoulders and pulling him close, one hand laying on the back of his head to play with his soft, wavy hair– which had grown slightly longer in the lull between their haircuts. “I love you,” Dream whispered softly. George relaxed into the hug immediately, letting out a content sigh, pulling Dream closer and leaning his head further into his chest. Dream pressed a soft kiss to George’s head before resting his chin on top of it. They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, before George broke it apprehensively.

“I, uh…” He began, and Dream lifted his head to look down as he hesitantly pulled back from the hug. George kept his hands clasped together behind Dream, leaning back to look up at him, big hands resting on his shoulders as he spoke. “I have… something to show you. If you’re not too busy.”

“Of course!” He nodded, smiling down at George as he took a step back and pulled his hands away, letting the other take the lead. “I’m never too busy for you, Georgie,” Dream reassured, making George let out a small chuckle, his smile growing as he nodded his head in understanding and grabbed Dream’s hand to lead him to his bedroom. He walked slow, his pace careful and delicate, sticking close to Dream even while he was in front of him.

Dream stayed close as well, playfully clinging to him, occasionally tugging his hand to pull him back into him and letting his free hand glide over George’s hip, lower back, shoulder, and upper arm to make sure he always had a hand on him. George smiled at the touches, fighting the urge to melt into it until they got to their destination, even if he flinched and giggled sweetly and batted his hand away when Dream tweaked his side briefly a few times.

They made it to George’s room in no time, George tugging Dream in and closing the door behind them. Dream watched his movements attentively, taking note of the slight pink tint to his cheeks. He pulled Dream over to the bed, having him sit in the middle of it– which Dream did without question, sitting cross legged on top of the plush comforter and fluffy throw blanket George had laying on the bed– before he leaned down to pull Dream into a gentle kiss, one finger gently tilting Dream’s chin up to meet him halfway.

“Hey,” Dream whispered before their mouths connected, his eyes flicking down to George’s lips before they closed, reaching his hands forward to rest on George’s waist. His smile grew as George pulled away, eyes slowly opening to see George’s pretty face just a few inches from him, and George smiled just the same, though much more bashful than Dream.

Then, his hands were being moved, guided by George’s shaky, hesitant fingers on his arms. They led him to the front of George’s sweatpants, where the draw string was loosely tied, ready to be undone with one quick pull. His hands paused where they were, his pinkies slipping gently into the waistband of the pants, between them and George’s boxers, and his thumb and forefinger caught the end of the string as he looked up at George for confirmation.

“This?” Dream continued to whisper, the teasing smile still present on his face– still growing, along with George’s embarrassment. “Is this what you want, baby?”

“Mhm,” George agreed with a nod, and the drawstring was undone. He took a step back to pushed the sweatpants down his thighs, letting them fall past his knees, down to his ankles, and then stepping out of them.

Then, Dream gathered what George had actually wanted to show him.

With the loss of George’s sweatpants, the tops of black thigh high socks were revealed– smooth and soft, the dark material a stark contrast to George’s lightly tanned skin, starting just a few inches above his knees even as he adjusted them, tugging them upwards and flattening the hem after removing his pants completely. He was left in only an oversized hoodie that he’d stolen from Dream, his black boxers, and the ever present thigh highs.

George stood up straight, wringing his hands in front of him, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. Dream gave him a soft smile, reaching his arms out to beckon him forward, working past the shyness that was presenting itself very strongly in George’s behavior– as it usually did, in situations like this.

“C’mere,” Dream coaxed quietly, and George took the two steps forward to stand against the end of the bed again, letting Dream rest his hands on the sides of his thighs, on the bare skin between where his boxers ended and the socks began. “You look so pretty, Georgie. You like them?” He asked, and he was given a shy yet enthusiastic nod in response, which he smiled at as he patted George’s thighs gently. “Good. I’m glad you like them, because I really, really, like them. You look… so good, and we are definitely coming back to these again in the future,” Dream continued with a giggle as George let out an embarrassed whine and covered his face with his hands, leaning forward to shove his head into the crook of Dream’s neck to hide further, only making Dream giggle harder and pull George in closer. “Aw, baby.”

“Shhhh…” George shushed, pulling back from Dream’s shoulder but keeping his hands resting there. He looked down at the bed, pausing for a moment, looking as if he was thinking quite hard about his next move, but he seemed to decide on it before Dream got the chance to ask what was on his mind. He carefully climbed on the bed, sitting back on his heels while he adjusted his position.

He ended up with his back against the pillows facing Dream, relaxing back into them as he kept his knees bent in front of him and his feet pressed firmly into the mattress. He bit his bottom lip, looking hesitant again, clearly having something else to show Dream but considering abandoning the whole operation. But, when Dream rested one hand on his knee and rubbed his thumb softly over the material that covered it, George relaxed into the bed completely and made the final push.

George rested his feet in Dream's lap, his ankles crossed as he tried to take up as little space as possible, in case he needed to pull away again if Dream showed any sign of dislike towards the newest addition to George’s display.

This addition, of course, was the padded cat paw prints on the bottom of the thigh highs, pink and plush, settled right on the ball of his foot and over his toes. Dream gasped softly, immediately taking one of George’s ankles in his hand to take a closer look at the paws, his fingers wrapping almost entirely around his ankle and making George whimper and squirm under the attention.

“Oh, baby,” Dream mused, making George whine again as he melted further into the pillows, curling and uncurling his toes a few times. Dream brought his other hand up to hold George’s ankle as well, now able to cup his narrow heel between both of his much larger hands. He rubbed his thumbs over the sole of George’s foot, making him tense up, the sensation amplified due to the soft material. George’s breath caught in his throat, making Dream’s eyes flicker up to his flushed face, a smile gracing his lips before he turned his full attention back to the foot in his hands. “S’this what you wanted to show me?”

“Mm– y-yeah…” George stammered, his breathing shallow and voice strained. He shifted his foot in Dream’s hold, flexing his toes.

“How long have you had this in that head of yours?” Dream asked curiously, brows pulling together as his thumb pressed gently into the bone of George’s ankle.

“Uh– a co- um… A bit…” George stuttered out, staring down at his hands in his lap when Dream looked over at him again. He brought one hand up to his mouth, curling his fingers in front of his lips nervously. “I, uh… I saw- saw them online and just kinda… bought them without thinking, and- and then when they got here I just…” George paused, both boys’ eyes flicking up to meet the others, and George swallowed against the lump in his throat before continuing, unsure how much longer he would be able to focus on speaking clearly with Dream’s warm hands cradling his foot so carefully. “So, it… it took me a little while to… and th- and then I just…” The older boy trailed off, completely lost in Dream’s eyes as they stared, unrelenting, into his own, kind and enamored and wholly in love.

Dream hummed calmly as George faltered, smiling sweetly at him before shifting his position again, turning to face George now. He took both of George’s ankles in his hands, shuffling closer and letting George’s other leg rest over his thighs. George breathed out with the movement, relaxing against the pillows behind him, and Dream kept his other foot still held up in his hands, focused intently on it, barely a few inches from his face. George squirmed under the attention.

Dream’s thumb slid against the inside of his foot, the tip of his fingers dragging down the same spot as well, making the older boy flinch and let out a soft gasp– which immediately caught Dream’s attention.

“What’s that?” He asked, voice gentle, and George couldn’t help the whimper that fell from his mouth at the question. Dream swiped his fingers up the inside of his foot again, making him jerk his leg in a pathetic attempt to pull away. “Is my kitty a little ticklish?”

“N-no…” George replied unconvincingly, well aware they both knew it was a lie. He nervously pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his fingers, waiting for Dream to make his next move. Dream smirked at him, his lips curled evilly but his eyes still nothing but entranced by the sight in front of him, and George still felt like his skin was burning under such an intense gaze.

“Hm…” Dream hummed, testing his theory by trailing his nails lightly over George’s heel, using a slow jellyfish motion. George whined, attempting to subtly twist his foot out of Dream’s hold, but he simply held tighter around his ankle and scratched with more determination. George’s toes curled, his other knee coming up and resting his foot on Dream’s leg, pressing the padded toe beans into his thigh as he squirmed. “I think it tickles, baby.”

“Nohoho…” George denied, though his giggling picked up when Dream’s fingers crawled too close to the arch of his foot. He bit his bottom lip, wrapping his arms around himself and looking down at his lap, making Dream chuckle.

“You’re shy today,” He observed, earning an embarrassed whine from the other boy as he dropped his head back onto the pillows and sunk further into them. “You’re blushing so much. This is really getting to you, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Mmh– Dreheam–“ George giggled, still squirming, making the mistake of glancing up at Dream for no more than a second– but it was long enough for Dream to catch his eyes, and George was nodding and pouting in response to the question before he even realized what was happening, immediately burying his head in his hands once he did.

“Aww, baby…” Dream cooed between his jellyfish movements, and George whined again, more broken and embarrassed than ever before. Dream giggled at him, deciding to let him off easy and not dwell on it too much, wanting to let George feel however he wanted and let go as much as he could manage. “It’s okay. Just relax for me, pretty boy.”

And with that, he immediately scratched his nails over George’s arches, holding his ankle firmly in place and covering as much surface area as possible. George gasped, shooting upwards and slamming his hands down on the bed next to him.

“FUCK–“ George squealed, bringing one hand up to slam it over his mouth and throwing the other forward to try and grab for Dream’s hand. “DRE– ah– Dreheheheam, plehehease–“ He couldn’t quite reach far enough, though, ending up with his hand on his calf and sliding down until he could grip his own thigh, until he felt Dream’s ring and pinkie finger scratch over the inside of his foot, then his pointer and middle finger hit the spot just under the ball of his foot, and he was a goner. “NOHOHO– oh my gohohohohod!”

“Shhhh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, just relax,” Dream soothed, giggling again when George’s foot twisted in his hold, trying to pull away. George whimpered, collapsing against the pillows again and throwing his head back into them, arching his back and breaking into helpless laughter.

“Fuck– Dreheheheam! Ihihit’s soho– ihihit–“ George attempted to plead, his desperate words blending together with continuous laughter, only broken by small squeaks and gasps for breath.

“I know, baby, I know…” Dream continued softly, nodding along with his words. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” Dream stopped tickling at his arches then, cupping his foot for a moment and squeezing to help him calm back down.

When he heard George let out a shaky breath, he continued, shifting his position. He pushed himself closer, leaning in and resting George’s ankle on his shoulder, smiling warmly at the other man when he looked at him with a confused expression. His questions were answered, though, when Dream began to rake his nails up and down George’s calf, the featherlight touch quickly turning unbearable over the thin material covering his legs. Remarkably, though, he melted into the touch, and his squirming stayed at a minimum, only shaky legs and involuntary twitches making their way through.

“You’re staying so still for me,” Dream began, chuckling at the small squeak he received when his nails scratched a little too close to George’s knee. “I know how hard this must be for you, sweet boy. You’ve always been so sensitive to this kind of thing.”

“Mm– Dreheheheeammm…” George whined through the steady stream of giggles that escaped his lips, curling his fingers over the sleeves of his hoodie and pressing his thumbs into his closed eyes. He let out a gasp when he felt Dream’s hands move upwards, one holding the back of his calf to keep it in place and the other moving to repeat the jellyfish motion over the top of his knee. “AH– nahaha!” George squealed, his leg jerking away from the cruel nails and his hands jumping down to hit and grab at the blankets underneath him.

“It’s okay,” Dream comforted, and then immediately went against his word as he scratched at the back of George’s knees, his hands attacking both legs now and making George kick his free leg out and tighten his trapped one, pulling Dream in closer.

“DREHEAM, plehehehease!” George pleaded through his giggles, squeezing his eyes shut and whining, until he felt his entire body jolt as Dream’s nails migrated to his thighs, scratching up and down the backs of them and making his laughter go even higher. “Oh myhyhy gohohohod, nohohoho! Nohoho, Dreheam, I cahahahan’t–“

“Shh, I know. I know, baby, you’re okay.” Dream began tracing circles over the back of George’s thigh, gently taking his other ankle and pulling it up onto his shoulder as well so he could mirror the action on both of George’s thighs. George whined desperately, his hips squirming against the bed uselessly as he pushed himself closer to Dream out of pure instinct. Dream smiled at him, sliding his palms up George’s legs until they reached his hips, and he pulled him the rest of the way in. “There we go. Is that better, kitty?”

“Mm–“ George whimpered, settling his hips back down on the bed between Dream’s legs and resting his hands on his knees. He hummed, content, and nodded at Dream’s question.

“Yeah? Good.” Dream delivered one gentle squeeze to George’s hips before moving his hands back up, rubbing gently over George’s thighs, slipping under the legs of his boxers before resuming his tracing on George’s inner thighs, right at the top seam of the thigh highs. George’s giggles picked up immediately, much more desperate and panicked than ever before, and Dream couldn’t help but comment on it. “This must be so hard for you, baby.”

“Fuhuhuck–“ George groaned out through his laughter, one hand squeezing the material of Dream’s pajama pants and the other moving to hide part of his face, as much as he could cover with one palm and spread fingers.

“Mhmm. You’re so ticklish here, aren’t you, my kitten?”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup…” George protested weakly, lightly punching Dream’s knee in futile attempts to get him to stop teasing.

“You’re doing so well, though. Such a good kitten,” Dream mused, completely enamored with the man in front of him, making him whine and squeeze his eyes shut, meeting into Dreams touch even further. His legs tightened again, one ankle turning to push on Dream’s shoulder again, and Dream giggled and leaned down to kiss him, practically bending the smaller boy in half as their lips connected in a sweet, gentle kiss. Dream hummed into the kiss, drinking it in, almost melting more than George before he pulled away to steady himself– he wasn’t finished yet, he had plenty more worshiping to do first. Instead, he smiled, and spoke again. “My perfect little kitten…”

“Oh, Dreheam…” George whispered, his eyes glassy, and Dream pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone just under his eye before he sat up again, now letting George’s knees hang over his shoulders. “You can’t– you… you can’t just say thahat…”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” Dream replied, a smug smile on his lips, placing a kiss on George’s left knee next to him. This pulled another breathy giggle from George, and Dream glanced up at him fondly, repeating the action a few more times and getting a new string of giggles each time. “Does this tickle too, sweetheart?”

“Uh– ah! A-A little…” George mumbled, shy again, his toes flexing and curling against the plush pads resting on top of them.

“Hmm, yeah?” Another kiss. “A little?” Dream kept the teasing lilt to his voice, kissing up George’s inner thigh instead, one hand coming up to hold his leg steady where it rested on his shoulder. George squeaked, throwing an arm over his face and falling into helpless, bright laughter at the sensation. “More than a little, I see.”

“Ahahaha! Dreheheheam!” George’s laughter was high pitched and squeaky, his leg jumping and tensing in Dream’s hold as he continued to place dramatic kisses all over the inner part of his thigh, squirming against his boyfriend’s body and grabbing for anything he could. “Stohohop!”

“I can’t stop! You’re being so cute, I just have to kiss you!” Dream teased, giggling at the way George shook his head when he did so. “This really tickles that bad?” Dream asked, voice genuine, albeit still teasy, and George nodded his head quickly.

“Ihihihit’s–! Yohou- ihihit’s yohohour stupihid beheard!” George whined, and Dream mentally kicked himself for not realizing sooner.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, his smile returning. “Oh my god, Georgie, I didn’t even notice! But that’s even better!” Dream said with excitement, rubbing his stubble against George’s inner thigh and making him flinch and squirm all over again.

“Nohoho, ihihit’s nohot– AH! Nahahaha!” George squealed at the new feeling, his poor thigh trembling in Dream’s evil grip, practically begging to be let go– even if it was against George’s own wishes. “Dreheheam, c’mohohohonnn…” He whined, his ankles twisting and toes curling uselessly, legs kicking out behind Dream’s back before curling back in and pressing into his shoulders.

“Okay, okay, fine, I won’t do that anymore,” Dream relented, squeezing George’s ankle comfortingly and pulling back to let him catch his breath. Then, Dream continued with his gentle kisses, pressing his lips against George’s leg repeatedly, trailing down over his thigh, his knee, his calf, even to the bones of his ankle as he moved George’s leg along with his mouth, resting his heel on his shoulder while his other leg stayed draped over his back.

George’s giggles continued softly, no doubt still tickled by the scratches of stubble and ghosting of lips over the soft material of the thigh highs, but he still kept himself mostly composed– although, Dream wasn’t convinced he was actually composed, so much as completely lax and melted by the atmosphere of the situation.

“I love how relaxed you are,” Dream commented, tracing circles over the outer bone of George’s ankle with his thumb, making George hum and swallow against the lump in his throat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you know how much I adore seeing you get hysterical. Or bratty.” George scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face grew nonetheless. “But this is nice. I’m tickling you to pieces, and you’re just letting me, you’re just calm. It’s sweet.”

“Shut uhup…” George whined, pouting at Dream, making them both break out into happy giggles, Dream instinctively leaning down towards George to pull him in closer.

“You’re cute,” He finished, wrapping his whole hand around George’s ankle and lifting it off his shoulder. George scoffed again, letting out a sudden gasp when he felt Dream's lips ghost against the sole of his foot.

“No! Nohoho, no, nonono!” George whimpered, twisting his ankle and trying to free it from Dream’s tight grip. “Dreheam, nohohoho!”

“Shhh, it’s okay, kitty. It’s okay,” Dream soothed, voice soft, pressing soft kisses up and down the center of George’s foot.

“Noho, Dreheheam, plehehehease! Ahaha– plehehease!” He continued to plead, reaching forward to grab at Dream’s legs again, completely lost in his giggly laughter. Dream chuckled along with him, reaching his free hand forward to grab one of George’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing comfortingly, letting George hold his hand as tight as he needed to expel the excess feelings he couldn’t get out through laughter and squirming. Dream decided to push further, letting out a playful growl and baring his teeth, nibbling incessantly on George’s arches and making him squeal in both delight and terror. “NAHAHA! Nohohoho, whyhyhy! Ihihit’s nohot fahahahair! It’s not fahahair, plehehease!”

“It is fair, baby, this is what you wanted!” Dream teased, earning a drawn out whine from his boyfriend, making him laugh happily once again, holding George’s narrow foot close to his lips so he could continue his nibbling for as long as he wanted. George’s whiny giggles continued, his hips squirming against the bed, his hand squeezing Dream’s fingers between his, his thighs shaking and feet attempting to kick. Soon enough, Dream felt something press into his cheek, and he pulled back for a moment to realize it was the plush pink pads of the paws that rested under George’s foot, his toes curled in to push just barely against his face. He smiled, watching George’s face as he blushed, whined, giggled his head off, did everything under the sun that wasn't looking back at Dream, and he could tell almost instantly that George wasn’t doing it intentionally– he probably didn’t realize he was doing it at all.

Until he did.

“Oh, do your little toe beans want attention too?” Dream teased, pushing in more, leaving George’s knee bent almost to his chest, his entire body folded in half under Dream’s body. He immediately whined and shook his head, curling his toes against the padding and throwing his free arm over his face once more. He gripped Dream’s hand tighter, pulling him closer, despite his embarrassment. “Aw, sweet boy, it’s okay. We can definitely make that happen.”

“Noho!” George squealed, tensing and whimpering when Dream’s hand grabbed around the middle of his foot. “Noho, Dreheheam, I cahan’t– I can’t take it, plehehease–“

“You can, baby, you can, it’s okay,” Dream soothed, rubbing his palm up and down George’s leg to calm him, grabbing his foot again. “You’re strong, aren’t you? My strong boy?” George couldn’t help but whimper and nod in response, and Dream smiles sweetly down at him. “Yeah, you are. You’re my good kitten. I know you can do it.”

“Mmh– Dream–“ George said with a pout, cut off by a sudden onslaught of laughter as Dream began nibbling on his toes. “AH– Dreheheheam! Oh my gohohohohod!” George squeaked, high pitched and frantic, arching his back off the bed and throwing his arm out to grab the sheets, squeezing them and Dream’s fingers equally as tightly, before falling into more helpless squirming. “Oh– GOHOHOD, Dreheheam, stohohop! Stop, stohohohop, STOHOP! Plehehehease!”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna stop,” Dream reassured, barely pausing his nibbles to speak, even as George was lost in floaty hysterics underneath him. “I'm gonna stop, it’s alright, just relax, don’t worry.”

“Plehehease, please, plehehehease! Dreheheam, I cahahahan’t!” George begged, sounding utterly hopeless, and Dream could tell he was being genuine– thought, he didn’t need to do much with that observation, as George tugged him closer with the leg around his shoulders, pulling him fully in and throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “Dreheheam– ah–! C’mohohon–“

“Okay, honey, okay,” Dream said through giggles, nodding along with George’s pleads, resting one hand flat on George’s tummy and rubbing gently over his hoodie, and using the other to card gently through his hair. “It’s okay, kitty, it’s alright. We’re done now, okay? You’re okay.”

“Mm–“ George whimpered, nodding, letting his hands slip down to fall onto the bed next to him, as if he was completely exhausted and holding them up was more effort than his body had left. Dream laughed at that, knowing it was an insane exaggeration, but humoring George anyway, placing both hands on George’s waist and rubbing his thumbs back and forth over the hoodie instead. He used his free hand to move George’s legs off his shoulders, letting them rest around his waist over his thighs instead, then leaned in to give George a long awaited kiss before speaking again.

“You okay?” He asked, slightly patronizing, but grinning wildly. George hummed and nodded, the smile on his face seeming permanently etched into his skin. “You liked that?” He asked, earning another nod, more eager this time. “Tired now, baby?” George nodded once more, frantically now, working up the strength to throw his arms around Dream’s neck one more time, making the other man break out into fond laughter. “Alright, baby, one second.”

Dream pressed another kiss to George’s forehead, moving them both around so he could lay next to George, pulling him in by his waist and taking his hands. He kissed the backs of George’s knuckles softly, scooting in close, and kissed him more– his forehead, then cheeks, then the tip of his nose, finally reaching his lips, where he stayed for a few moments, the two of them breaking apart and coming back together several times before finally pulling back.

“You did so good,” Dream praised, making George whine and shove his head in the pillow below him.

“Shut up,” He complained, muffled by the fabric, but Dream just laughed and hugged him tighter.

“I’m serious. You're such a good kitty, baby. My perfect kitten.” He kept his voice low, soothing, and he could already feel the way George’s body relaxed at the words.

“Hmm…” He hummed, curling himself into Dream’s chest and smiling. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my sweet boy,” Dream finished, kissing George’s head one last time before they fell into comfortable silence, only broken about ten minutes later by George’s even breathing, signaling that he’d fallen asleep at some point in that time.

Dream chuckled, closing his eyes as well, hugging George a little bit tighter as he followed suit soon after.

And, as he’d said in the beginning, they were totally, definitely, 100% coming back to the thigh highs very, very soon. He would make sure of it.

#i hope everyone enjoys this oneeeee #i was pretty nervous to post this bc of the Everything about it but #summer and mushie both seemed to really enjoy it so i’m feeling a little better now #i do love kitty george so much tho. he is so special to me. that’s my baby kitten :(#lee!george #ler!dream #cals writing #fav

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bakugokemkatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

Tamaki Amajiki X (GN) Reader :

**Genre: Fluff?? **Word Count: 647 **Warning(s): cussing, some inappropriate remarks, use of c^nt once, cringy, NOT proofread, thought of this at 2 am **Key: R/N- Random Name, R/N/F- Random Name’s Friend, Y/N- Your Name **Note: Y/n gender is not specified/ GN for anyone

Background: You and Tamaki have been dating for a few months and have been friends since middle school. No one knows you two are together. Nejire and Mirio know Tamaki is seeing someone but respects his privacy and your friends don’t know you’re seeing anyone. You are a first year in this. Everyone knows you two are close friends but no one thinks it could be anything more. This does have things that don’t follow the timeline/plot line exact and yes this is partially based on that one scene in Victorious. NOW onto the story!

The festival of the year was here. The weather was perfect, the light breeze carrying the sounds of laughter and joy through the air. Everyone was at the U.A. Festival. One of the third year classes had put on a dance for their activity. Everyone was dancing having a good time. At least it seemed that way, over near the side by some tables were the big three. They were all talking, when two girls came up to them. “Hey it’s Tamaki, right? We’re in the same year! I’m (R/N) and this is (R/N/F).” Tamaki was very flustered and taken aback by the attention. “h..hi, nice to meet you two.” With this Mirio decided to pipe in, “I’m Mirio and this is Nejire. We’re Tamaki’s best friends. It’s a pleasure to meet you guys.” “We know you two, we came here to talk to Tamaki” (R/F/N) snootily responded. After that conversation continued mostly (R/N) flirting and (R/F/N) edging them on. Tamaki was getting very uncomfortable. Across the room, you were dancing and having fun with your friends when you caught sight of Tamaki looking like he’s about to be sick. You quickly tell your friends you’ll be back and start making your way over to everyone. As you approach you hear (R/N) say, “so you’re quick, you use tentacles a lot, I wonder what else those tentacles can do”. “Um, excuse me. He has a girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other .” [Nejire] “I don’t see her/him/them” [R/N] Hearing this you storm up behind R/N not even caring that you just knocked about twenty people over on your way. R/N turns to look you up and down after you tap them on the shoulder. “Now you see her/him/them” “Well I don’t see much”[R/N]. At this point the music is off and the room is quiet all attention on you and R/N. “Leave my BOYFRIEND alone.” “And what if I don’t? I mean he can do so much better than some puny first year like yourself. He’d mush rather have an older more experie….” Before R/N could finish their sentence you decked them in the face. “What the hell is wrong with you! Sexualizing him when it’s clearly making him uncomfortable and disrespecting our relationship on top of that. Stay the HELL away from my boyfriend, got it c^nt” R/N and their friend quickly ran off. “Wow that was nice of you to cover for Tamaki, pretending to be his girlfriend/ boyfriend/ significant other. You’re a good friend y/n.” Hearing yourself referred to as a good friend by Mirio really hurt but you simply nod and walk back to your friends. You’re about half way back when you feel someone grab your arm and spin you around, before you can process what is happening lips are on yours. You immediately recognize them as Tamaki’s. Kissing him back you, he quickly pulls away, “..um thanks.. for that and um sorry for not telling everyone about us sooner.. I just I really.. um…” “I know you hate all the attention. No worries. And I’m glad everyone knows now.” Everyone around you two were cheering and tamaki confessed for the first time… “ I love you (y/n)” stunned you stare at him for a moment before simply replying “I love you too Tamaki” and pulling him into another quick kiss.

Sorry this was cringy and horrible writing this was done at 2am and is my first Fanfic type thing!! Requests are open if anyone is interested!! And thank you for reading!!

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mothgodofchaos · 13 hours ago

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Maybe some platonic father figure Dark with a reader who is his half demon kid that got sent to stay with him due to the sudden emergence of their demon powers? It's okay if not

Family

So I was originally just going to make it Dark... but now you kinda got a whole ass household. Oops. Enjoy having gay dads!

Darkiplier x Wilford Warfstache, GN!Reader, TW: vague childhood trauma Words: 905

You were unceremoniously dumped on your father’s doorstep with your things, your mother no longer wanting anything to do with you. The last time you saw him, you were maybe in… kindergarten? It’s been years since then, and you’re not even sure he’ll recognize you. Your mother constantly would badmouth him all the time, clearly bitter from the divorce. But you had trouble believing that he was truly that bad, especially since anyone else’s accounts of him always spoke the opposite of him.

You’re not even able to knock on the door before someone opens it. He’s a flashbang of vibrant color, even with a pink mustache to match.

“Oh dear! Damesies, it’s one of yours!”

He calls back behind him, and you hear quiet footsteps approach the door. There’s a faint ringing as a hand grips the door, pulling it back to reveal a second man. He looks shocked to see you, looking you over. He doesn’t look at all different from how you remember him, if anything a bit older looking. Your eye catches matching wedding bands on their hands, and you take a brief moment to wonder if your father got remarried.

“Dearheart? Why are you here?”

He peers past you into the driveway, just to be met with a middle finger from your mother as she speeds away. He sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder and helping you get your bags inside.

“I should have known this day was coming… she tried to change you. I told her it would not work, but she never listens.”

“Change the… demon thing?”

“Yes, sweetheart. She used to have priests and nuns babysit you, and you would just scream until your throat was hoarse. Eventually all the local churches refused to look after you, and several of them had reported your mother.”

“Wow… I- don’t remember that.”

“That is perhaps for the better. Wil, could you possibly show them to their room?”

“Of course! Papa Wilfie will handle everything!”

You turn around and your stepfather is gone, along with all of your bags. You turn around back to your dad, all of the emotions of being reunited and abandoned hitting you all at once. He sees the change in your face, opening his arms to you.

“Hey, it will be alright. You are safe here, you always will be.”

You are accepted warmly into his arms, holding you tight to make up for all the years of missing you. He doesn’t let go until you do, knowing you badly need this hug, not knowing the last time you felt love from a parent.

“Wilford is my husband, we have been married for quite a few years. You do not have to refer to him as anything if you do not wish to, but know he will care for you and handle whatever he can. He enjoys being rather involved. You will meet your adoptive brothers probably after dinner.”

“I have… brothers?”

“Yes, but go get your room setup. I will be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Dark kisses the top of your head, letting you run up the stairs to find Wilford.

“P-Pops-?”

“There you are, pumpkin! Got your room all set up with your things! Your bathroom is through that door there, and your closet through there. Although I would suggest not getting the two mixed up.”

He gives you an exaggerated wink with a laugh, letting you take in the sight of your room. It’s a bit bare, but you notice lots of photos on the walls of you and Dark when you were little. Stuffed animals sit on your dresser that you haven’t seen in years. You pick up a wolf stuffie, one that reminds you of the last day you saw him. He had given this to you, but it mysteriously disappeared a few days later. Considering its pristine condition, you wonder if your mother gave it back to him. You hug it close to your chest, tears forming in your eyes again. Wilford approaches behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Here, come sit down on the bed, pumpkin…”

He guides you to the bed, trying to not rush anything as right now, he’s not much more than a stranger to you.

“Would you like a hug? I’ve been told I give good ones?”

You nod, and you receive a soft side hug. A quiet, sad squeak emits from the action, although you’re not exactly sure where from.

“I know your father may not show it, but he has been so worried about you, sugarplum. And it may take a bit to get used to living here, but we won’t force anything on you. I especially won’t. I don’t know if Damien told you to call me that but-”

“N-No… I wanted to.”

Wilford’s eyes sparkle as he looks down at you, already so proud to be your pops. He hugs you a bit tighter, a hug you guess will become a familiar comfort to you.

“Well, I’m very proud to be your pops. And your father is very proud to be your dad, and never stopped loving you.”

“I was told I have, brothers?”

“Oh yes! And they may be a little eccentric at first, but they take that after me. Well, they both do, in different ways. They also take after your father in other ways. You’ll see.”

“I look forward to it.”

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness

It’s Sunday, so you know I had to get an essay in about this eighth episode of La Pluie. This week I want to dive into the ways that La Pluie is interrogating the nature of Romance as a genre, the ways it enables its characters to be competent, and how all this plays into its specific queer ideas.

All of the gifs in the post were borrowed from my good friend @liyazaki who I am most happy to have convinced to join us in watching this show.

The Rain Connection and Lomfon

I want to get this out of the way first, because we don’t know enough for me to want to spend a ton of time speculating on this. We know that there aren’t a lot of people in the world with Rain-Based Hearing Loss, and we know that only a small subsection of them have a connection with other people.

screenshot by @respectthepetty

When Lomfon falls here, it seems like he has the same pain we saw Tai experience the first time he developed a connection with Patts on his 20th birthday. Thus far, we don’t know if Lomfon has experienced hearing loss in his life. We were discussing this yesterday, and @lurkingshan went back to look at the café scene with Lomfon in episode 5, and it didn’t seem like Lomfon experienced hearing loss when it began raining there.

What I think is most significant about Lomfon suddenly developing a connection with seemingly Patts and Tai (this show has not tried to misdirect or trick us up to this point, so I am choosing to read the scene as if he heard both of them until we get new information) is that Lomfon has thus far been the most vocal skeptic about the societal assumptions that people connected by hearing loss should be in romantic relationships with each other. I think this will bring significant drama into the plot because he’s been developing something with Tien, and it will challenge Tien to have feelings for someone with a rain connection to someone else.

I’m not even reading into this as a throuple, because this show has expressed clearly that soulmates are an opportunity more than anything else, and the nature of this story and its references to the MacKade brothers assures me that this is going to be about two couples. @lurkingshan and @ginnymoonbeam already covered the rest of this as well.

Everyone is Competent, and Everyone is Valid

One of my favorite things about this show thus far is that no one has been especially stupid about their feelings. The most dramatic and dangerous thing anyone has done so far was Tai trying to climb a mountain on his own and realizing quickly that he had made a huge mistake.

We learn that Tai understood exactly what had happened with Nara kissing Patts and was not mad about it. He was upset that it felt like their soulmate connection ruined a genuinely good relationship Patts and Nara, and he questioned the veracity of his and Patts’ feelings for each other. Moreover, the show allows Nara to be upset about her rejection. Her feelings and her relationship with Patts were real and deserving of respect. She is also a character who possesses grace, and insists that Patts find Saengtai even though the two of them just had an emotionally devastating final breakup.

Patts realizes within minutes what Saengtai had done and immediately sets about looking for him. Even if the other vet should have reconsidered sending Saengtai into that situation with Patts and Nara, everyone responded appropriately to the crisis by trying to search for Saengtai and predict his behaviors in a crisis. Kung, who says she’s responsible for them, detailed the dangers of the mountain and made a vehicle available to them immediately.

As for Tien, he’s a hot-headed guy, and blamed himself for not recognizing what his brother would do right away. Lomfon also talks him down from running after his brother with logic as well. When Tien finally reunites with his brother, he sternly chides him for running into danger before collapsing on his brother.

In every episode before this, I have really enjoyed how everyone has been good at their jobs and operating from a believable emotional space. Little conflict on this show has felt contrived, and I’ve enjoyed how each challenge extends naturally from the setting itself and the initial plot seeds surrounding Tai’s parents’ divorce.

Our Expectations of Romance

Probably my favorite thing about La Pluie has been the way it grapples with the nature of Romance itself. Though the show has been explicit in its skepticism about destined romance, everything in this show says that we’ll end up with two couples. Everyone in this is a character in a story with a role to play in its narrative.

Multiple characters, like us in the audience, have already assumed that Patts and Tai are endgame because of their rain connection. Tien already treats Patts like his brother-in-law. Tai’s dad already teased about the accelerated pace of a soulmate relationship. Bow came on this trip to make sure Tai makes (sexual) progress with Patts. Multiple members of the vet crew have teased Patts about his concern for Saengtai. Yet, it’s this presumption that has been the primary struggle of their relationship so far.

How fascinating is it that the primary drama of a couple in a romance is that everyone (including the audience) expects them to get together as a foregone conclusion? What are the emotional underpinnings of their relationship that will give them the tools to succeed in the long term? It’s that concern that makes Tai so cautious about moving forward with Patts. He’s worried he’ll make the same mistakes his parents made.

The run up the mountain was necessary for Saengtai as a character, because he needed to face himself. He finally reached the conclusion that many of us reached weeks ago. But as the song says, “no one else can feel it for you; only you can let it in.”

And isn’t that also the point? Does it matter if they’re supposed to be together or not? What matters is they choose each other.

Patts is such a gentle man. He is incredibly patient, and the kind of partner I think Saengtai has hoped for his whole life. This is the man who doesn’t yell at him for endangering himself, sits quietly as Saengtai finally unloads all of the fears and doubts he’s struggled with, and makes sure that Saengtai gets all of the moments he’s hoped for in his life by asking him the question even if we all know the answer already, because Patts is a man who understands that it’s important to do things right.

And how does Tai respond to that moment? By giving them and us what we all need:

Let me just say again while we’re here that I love the way these two kiss. I love the way each kiss has been choreographed. You can track the beats of their relationship through their intimate scenes.

Look at this! We’ve been begging for couple kisses for years, and really only Bad Buddy has given them to us.

It’s just so important that the characters earned the understanding together that what matters most for them is that they love each other (@lurkingshan).

On To the Gay Stuff

I’m not the first person to talk about the inherent queerness of the rain connection. Tai and Patts have both expressed that they would choose not to have this condition if possible. For many of us who grew up queer, that feeling will be extremely familiar. I certainly screamed, prayed, and hoped that I wouldn’t be this way when I first started noticing it within myself at eight years old and throughout my entire adolescence. Yet what matters is how we choose to live with it.

I don’t care if Patts and Tai are destined soul mates, or just two compatible guys who will have this strange connection for the rest of their lives (and maybe with Lomfon too??). What matters to me is they stared at the hand they were dealt and chose to build something they can both enjoy together.

What I really hope we get in the final third of this show is Tai coming to terms with his parents’ divorce. I hope my theory that Tai’s dad is queer is correct, and I hope that Tai learns to respect the choice they’ve made. I hope that if Lomfon is in their rain connection long term, they all find a way to find peace with that, especially for Tien’s sake.

As a queer viewer, I enjoy shows the most when they feel like they come from a space that queer people specifically experience. This show uses the expectations that the world places on who we’re supposed to be with and how we’re supposed to live as a way to replicate the experience of heteronormativity, and still lets these two men choose each other.

La Pluie is a special show in a year of special shows. I have no idea how we’re going to handle awards when we do the VIIB Awards on @the-conversation-pod at the end of the year, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop talking about this show.

Thank you for coming to my post.

Shoutouts to @wen-kexing-apologist @kyr-kun-chan for talking through all of this with me yesterday as well.

#la pluie #la pluie meta #thai bl #bl series #usermor #la pluie the series #Ben watches

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fluffypotatey · 7 months ago

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OK SO! the tommyinnit 101. technically this isn't really tied to an smp though.

so first we must start at the very beginning. the dream smp. in late 2020-early 2021, the dream smp was at the height of its popularity, and tommyinnit played one of its most prominent characters (tommy, henceforth referred to as c!tommy). now the thing about c!tommy is that both he and cc!tommy (idk if i've talked about the c! vs cc! divide before but that is its own 101) were under 18 at the time, and therefore if you shipped his character with anyone about 70% of the fandom would tear you apart.

honestly dsmp isn't too relevant here, though, except to introduce tommy and tubbo. you see, in a world of straight men using their little block guys to flirt with one another, tommy was Very vocal about loving women. being Straight was part of his Bit in the same way that being Annoying and playing the able sisters music from animal crossing was.

anyways in late 2022 he uploaded a vlog of him and tubbo getting married, tubbo mostly against his will. they pulled out all the stops- got an ordained minister (their friend scott, who you may recognize from the life series 101s) to do a little ceremony, had a lot of their friends acting as different members of the wedding party, even signed and filed real paperwork!

yep. that's right. they signed legal fucking paperwork. i've heard that tubbo didn't even know it was a marriage certificate, he thought it was a waiver for being in the video or smth. that's right, known straight man tommyinnit tricked his best friend into getting Real Life Legally Married to him, presumably just for shits and giggles.

This fact went unnoticed until mid-late 2023. tubbo was playing on the QSMP with some other people (i know FitMC, not sure who else), and was joking about going to Vegas and getting married to Fit. and then tubbo realized he was still married to tommy.

also, around that time, tommy wrote and published (to wattpad) a rpf crack fic called Tommy x Tubbo Love Triangle, where tommy leaves his Real Life Girlfriend molly for tubbo (molly dies directly afterwards because it was so romantic) and then he and tubbo kiss without tongue. tubbo was not consulted during the production of this fanfiction.

after learning about the marriage, tubbo started working to get a Real Life Divorce from his Real Life Friend Tom. tommy refused to sign the paperwork. if any of this ever goes to court tubbo fully intends to livestream the whole thing.

around 2 months ago, tommy did a parody of "I'm Just Ken" called "I'm Just Tom," in which he begs tubbo not to divorce him. it must be seen to be believed. idk if the link will work in an ask but i need you to see it https://youtu.be/laAPXcxjDlI?si=wPQM3ZJHBIv11Cfr

also if you're wondering how molly, tommy's Real Life Girlfriend, feels about all of this? she thinks it's hilarious. for the past month or two-ish (?), tommy's been doing a stand-up comedy tour in america (because they are all british), and at the same time tubbo's been doing a subathon (aka tubbathon bc it's tubbo) (a subathon is a twitch stream with a timer on it. the stream ends when the timer finishes out, and whenever someone subscribes to the streamer's channel more time is added) (the tubbathon is still going btw and isn't slowing down anytime soon). at one point molly came onto the tubbathon, and tubbo bought her a new phone bc hers was shit. (directly afterwards tommy posted a vlog about it, saying he felt like he was being cucked by his gay husband)

fans have dubbed these three the nightmare polycule, and it's not hard to see why.

and then, finally, this morning (last night in england time), tommy and tubbo were on a phone call. tubbo (gay) encouraged tommy to "say the f slur!" and tommy said, and i quote, "I'm bicurious, so I guess I could say like a fifth of it. [Tochat] Hear that, ya -ggots?"

i needed to tell you all of this so that you would understand the full insanity of all of this. there are some bits that don't really translate unless you were a dsmp fan in the 2020-2021 era, but i need you to see the ongoing insanity this man creates. he had been planning to use that joke for his live comedy show

ok uh

wow

i some pointers on his singing voice (a bit too belty there, that'll damage the throat later, some vowels need rounding)

hilarious that he rhymed Tom with arm

reading this was like a fever dream

molly is me tbh this is the most hilarious drama i have ever read

his comedic timing is beautiful

what the fuck

#chaotic man indeed #asks #smp 101 with gumy #smp adjacent

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compacflt · 1 year ago

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While I was reading your slider oneshot for the third time (sooooo good btw, i cant say enough how much i love your writing), I kept thinking about Ice and Sliders conversation about Carole-[“Me and Carole?” Ice said, thinking it over. He smiled his bitter, bashful smile— “Yeah, we might’ve worked out, once. I won’t get into the details. We tried it out. But I don’t think the timing was right.”]-What is Ice referencing here?? Is he referring to when Carole kissed him? Or did I miss something (entirely possible tbh)? I really felt like Mav when I read that scene ["What do Admiral Kazansky and Carole Bradshaw get up to when he doesn’t know about it?"]

The parallel of Mav being [redacted] with Goose and Carole liking/loving/pining for Ice. Wow! So deliciously complex. What an interesting little love square they have going on. Bradley and his four parents.

But man...Carole really is such a tragic figure in both canon and your fic. But I really really love the depth of emotion that you give her in the glimpses that we get. Her relationships with both Mav and Ice are so interesting and layered. They just feel very real. I really really loved the gimpse of her point of view you gave us in the Dad!Ice fic (the half empty box of cigarettes!! I still think about that)

this is such a sweet ask. thank you. yes he was referring to her kissing him (not really “trying it out,” to be fair, but he’s also trying to “prove” to slider that he’s still interested in women, so he’s using even the most tangential of evidence and holding it up like “see? See? not gonna give you all the details but Trust Me bro we tried it out😎”)

& also here’s from my notes in my printed-out copy of my fics from last OCTOBER (whoa). Referring to the scene in the hospital when Carole gives ice & maverick the instructions to pull Bradley’s USNA app & suggests she & ice have discussed it previously (they haven’t).

Carole is pretty much the only person who is around both Ice & mav enough to know the truth of who they are. (Slider also recognizes this— “ice let Carole Bradshaw see his happiness but not slider… :( que cruel”. And the whole “she is literally the only camera capturing icemav’s happiness on film for the historical record” section of slider

.) And Carole therefore is the only person to whom ice quite literally cannot deny that he & maverick are together, because she… has eyes. And is their best friend. and they’re raising her kid with her. So that sets her up as like a confessional character, in that ice HAS to be truthful with her in a way he isn’t with anyone else, including… his literal boyfriend maverick. so it’s a pretty easy leap for Maverick to be like, It’s a given that ice does not honestly want to be with me, a man -> but he is honest about his feelings with Carole, a woman who has expressed interest in him, behind my back (“what do admiral Kazansky & Carole Bradshaw get up to when he doesn’t know about it?”) -> Omg they’re having a heterosexual emotional affair. Which, like, they totally might be? which is why i keep going back to the *possibility* that they might have worked out once, had it not been for the simultaneous timing of ice falling in love with maverick, since ice is also Bradley’s no. 1 dad figure in my story. Which slider points out.

From a heterosexual family planning perspective, ice & Carole together just kinda makes sense. In a way that everyone in the story recognizes, for better or worse.

#ice as the responsible dad; Carole as the fun loving mom #like if they had ‘worked out’ everyone recognizes they’d be the perfect successful nuclear family with a good love story to boot #which is why it hurts maverick to be compared to that. to be reminded that Ice is only with him because he has to be.#so you get this kind of ‘man it’s a shame ice is gay’ feeling from Carole because she’s the perfect alternative #and when she dies ice has NO other option but maverick #he’s 43 years old & suddenly the woman who loves him whom he’s been keeping in his back pocket just in case… is dead #and maverick becomes his only realistic hope for companionship. doors closing one by one. getting shut into this life he didn’t want.#which is what is hopefully represented in the rendition of the funeral scene in the slider one shot.#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #edts notes #carole bradshaw #is icecarole even a ship? seems…#homophobic somehow #these are characters who exist as whole people in my head independent of my personal skill level in rendering them on the page #so im just gonna tell you what i was GOING for lmfao #‘here’s how i MEANT to write it’#‘here’s how i WOULDVE written it if i were being a little more intentional & wasnt speedrunning my first draft in 13 days’

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jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka · 7 months ago

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Above Snakes

Part 7! The final!! Thank you for everyone who followed along with this one, it got a little bit rough there but I promise it’s a somewhat happy ending.

Pairings: Sam Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slash for the besties

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!! This is not for the minors! Adult content including: talk of death and murder, extreme sadness and loss of loved ones, talk of affairs, just a little bit of smut including: kissing, groping, strong suggestive talk, cowboy AU

Word count: 5.2k

“Jesus Christ what the hell is going on here?” Josh disappointedly asked Sam as he arrived at the sheriff’s station with the lawyer to save the day.

“I don’t know I came to see Danny and Jake just went awol” Sam picked at the corners of a napkin he’d grabbed and started twisting in his hands to occupy himself as he waited patiently for the back up.

Sam's eyes flicked over to the two who had been sharing the sitting area with him, now standing by the office Tom had retreated back into after Jake was hauled away. Josh followed his gaze, immediately recognizing the pair as Sam had as the Johnson’s- Suzy’s parents.

“What are they doing here?” Josh lowered his voice to a whisper. He could already feel the near dozen set of eyes that had been staring at him since he arrived, everyone at the station on edge since Jake’s little show earlier.

Sam shrugged, glancing back down to his napkin that he was now tearing small pieces off of and rolling into tiny balls in his fingers before releasing them onto his jean clad thigh and tearing another piece. He had a bad feeling seeing them here, maybe Jake had spoken to them and something they’d said had set him off? Not that Jake needed any reason to want to punch Tommy McVain in the face other than stealing his girl.

“You two. Come with me” an officer approached them and turned to guide them through the station towards the back room where, in Sam’s experience at least, the releases took place. On the way they passed the office and Josh stopped to ask the Johnson’s if everything was okay. He was never as familiar with them as Jake had gotten during high school, but he had been invited along to a few dinners when Jake and Suzy were dating so it wasn’t like he was a stranger. Not that anyone here was a stranger except for maybe Danny who had looked so helpless inside that cell…

Though Sam wanted to stay and hear what they talked about, he was more eager to see why the officer had called them over. Maybe the lawyer had worked his magic and gotten Danny out already- that was more than hopeful thinking.

When he rounded the corner instead of Danny waiting for him in the old plastic chair at the end of the release desk, Jake sat with his fingers laced together in his lap and his eyes glazed over as he stared out the window.

“Kiszka?” The office manning the desk asked and Sam wasn’t sure if he was referring to him or Jake who didn’t even look up at the call of his surname.

“Yeah, that’s us” Sam cleared his throat and approached the desk.

“Sign here and here” the officer flopped a packet of papers down and shoved a pen in his hand. Sam attempted to read what he was signing but the words only jumbled up on the paper. Why was he doing this? Where was Josh?

He knew after he signed the papers they’d let Jake go with a warning or maybe a citation. Or at least that’s what they’d done before when it was him sitting in that same orange chair and it was his parents standing here signing instead.

Finally he got his hand to move, scribbling his name across the places marked out for him and the officer took the packet back. “Don’t want to see any of you causing trouble round here again. You’re lucky sheriff McVain didn’t want to press any charges”.

“Right” Sam nodded, standing there awkwardly and waiting to see if there was anything else he needed to do.

“Well go on, get him out of here” the officer grumbled, turning back to his old chunky desktop computer that probably hadn’t been changed out since the remodel that was done in like 2007.

“Umm, what about Daniel Wagner?” Sam peeped up.

“What bout him?”

“Will he be getting released soon?” It was a dumb question he knew, but he really felt shitty about leaving if Danny was still here.

“He won’t be going anywhere any time soon” the officer snarked, making Sam’s cheeks flush hot with irritation. This is exactly why he didn’t want to leave, everyone was already treating Danny like he was some low life criminal just because they didn’t know him.

“Sammy” Josh called before he could mouth off to the officer and risk getting thrown into a cell next. “I’m going to take Jake back to my place. He doesn’t need to be alone right now”.

“What’s going on Josh?” Sam asked, looking back over at Jake who hadn’t moved an inch. He didn’t even look like he was breathing and it was starting to freak him out more than he already was.

“It’s Suzy” Josh replied, continuing to keep his voice down so hopefully Jake wouldn’t hear him. “She’s dead Sam. She’s the girl they found in Danny’s hotel room this morning”.

Sam’s head started spinning. What the fuck happened last night? He never wanted Danny to go on this trip with Jake in the first place, but he couldn’t have even imagined the amount of shit they would actually get in.

“Fuck, so that’s why he looks like that?”

Josh looked over Sam’s shoulder quickly with a cringe and a furrow of his brows and nodded. “I’m going to try to talk to him. See if he knows why she was at that motel. Will you do me a favor? Just take Jake’s truck back to the ranch and take care of yourself for tonight ok? We will regroup in the morning and figure out our next steps”.

“I don’t know Josh…” Sam hesitated, “what about Danny?”

Josh reached a hand up and placed it on his baby brother's shoulder, “don’t worry, he’s got the lawyer here with him he won’t be alone. Just give it a bit more time and I’m sure we will hear something”.

With that he left Sam, moving past him to help his twin out of the chair who after he finally snapped back to reality and realized who it was buried his face into Josh’s chest and crumbled apart. Josh without a second of hesitation wrapped his arms around Jake’s trembling shoulders and ushered him out the door.

Sam waited around for a minute longer, still trying to decide if he was comfortable with leaving. The officer behind the desk watched him out of the corner of his eye- like Sam was really capable of doing anything right now. His brain was fried, and his limbs buzzed with anxiety making him feel more exhausted than he usually would be. He ultimately decided after nothing changed in the now quiet station that even if he did stay they’d be kicking him out at closing anyways.

Going home and trying to get some rest did sound like the best option. Whether he would even get a bit of shut-eye was still up for debate, but he was sure that first thing in the morning he’d be right back here.

“Jake” Josh spoke softly as he crawled next to the hollow form that lay limply underneath the sheet in his bed. It had been a while since Jake finally stopped crying, and Josh had tried and failed to get him to eat something. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” He knew Jake had always still held feelings for Suzy, even before they came back home, but he didn’t realize it was this bad.

“Come on Jakey, you’re scaring me”.

Despite his current state, Jake registered the significance of Josh’s use of his childhood nickname- the pure concern lacing his voice. He rolled over in the bed and Josh got a good look at him for the first time since they’d been home. Eyes red and irritated, still full of unshed tears on the waterline. His nose was also red, rubbed raw from wiping it on the sleeve of his flannel. “God, you look like shit”.

“I feel like shit” Jake croaked, his throat dry and irritated. Josh reached over and grabbed the cup of tea he’d brought in earlier, giving Jake a look that said if you don’t drink this now I’ll force it down your throat. Jake sat up slowly and took the cup in his hands. It wasn’t warm any longer, but the herbal smell and slightly sweet taste did leave it still bearable. After a few drinks he set the tea back down, Josh watching him intently the entire time and waiting patiently for Jake to be ready to talk.

“I loved her” Jake spoke a little more clearly now.

“I know you did” Josh grabbed one of Jake’s hands and pulled it into his lap, trying to both visually and physically show him that he was here for him.

“No Josh, like we were in love” he added, drawing in a shuddering breath before continuing. “She was going to leave her husband and we were going to move away together. Fuck I was trying to buy us a house. That’s what I was doing yesterday”.

It felt like a weight off his shoulders to finally confide in his brother about what his plans were, though the absence of that secret only left him feeling even more empty inside. He was supposed to be excited when he revealed his big plans- plans that he now realized were no longer going to come into fruition.

“Jesus Jake” Josh sighed, but he squeezed the hand in his lap too. “You guys were having an affair? How long was that going on?”

“Since the end of last summer”.

That checked out in Josh’s mind. There for a while in the past he’d gotten pretty concerned for Jake’s well being. Jake was holding up his end of the deal and keeping himself sufficiently busy with work around the ranch while they were getting their start. On the other hand, nearly every night he was getting drunk and not even like trying to have a good time drunk- the shit face don’t want to remember this in the morning kind of drunk.

Poor Sammy had gotten the worst end of that era of Jake because after he’d get stupid enough to black out he’d always find his way over to Sam’s house to crash. He and Sam had gotten into a few fights over that, but ultimately Sam had just given in and tried his best to ignore him when Jake would show up at his doorstep plastered beyond any resemblance of himself.

Jake hadn’t acted that way in a long time though. About eight months if Josh had his math right- the end of last summer. Jake never talked about it much, only admitting that he wound up at Sam’s because he didn’t want to see Josh disappointed in him.

Now Josh was starting to put two and two together. Jake only ever pulled out of his slump because he started seeing Suzy again- and now she was dead.

“So she was with you last night?” Josh questioned, still trying to figure this all out.

“Yeah” Jake’s chest began to heave again as he raked his fingers through his messy hair. “It’s all my fault Josh. I asked her to come meet me. Fucking Tom must’ve found out and I don’t know… done something to her”. That last part came out in a whisper, because he’d been trying this entire time to not think about what Tom would do to her if he ever found out.

“It’s not your fault Jake. It was a bad situation for you guys to be in, but you didn’t do this to her”. Josh’s jaw tightened as he did picture what Tommy McVain had done to his wife. Her parents had told him at the station.

He strangled her. His hands wrapped so tightly around her neck it had made deep purple intentions on her body that her parents had to look at when they finally got to see her. It was vile. A crime of passion, and he couldn’t believe Danny was really being put to blame for it.

“Try to get some sleep” Josh gave his brother his hand back and moved around the bed to collect his half empty cup. “I’m going to make some more. I’ll be right back”.

“Josh?” Jake whispered as he settled down onto his back, pulling the sheet up under his chin. “Thank you. I don’t think I could get through this without you”.

“I love you Jake” Josh responded, his heart aching in tandem with his other half.

Jake closed his eyes and Josh waited until he was back in the kitchen to pull his phone out. It was late, but now that he had some more information he needed to make this call. The lawyer needed to hear this as soon as possible if they had any chance of saving Danny.

After a couple of hours of sitting at the station the next morning waiting around to see Danny again, Sam left his number with the front desk in case there was any news while he went out to grab some lunch. Even in town there weren't many options for grabbing a quick bite to eat. Chelsea’s diner was his go to place but he just didn’t feel comfortable going there when he knew Suzy wouldn’t be there to greet him with a smile and smart crack back at him. Honestly, that diner would never be the same without her.

As Sam drove around aimlessly, tired out of his mind and unfocused despite his best efforts at rest last night, he somehow found his way to the neighborhood where he knew Danny’s grandparents lived. What day was it anyways? Wednesday if he recalled right- though even that was questionable after the past couple of days he’d had.

Normally Danny would be visiting today. Did they even know that he wouldn’t be coming? Not that they would really be able to tell the difference, Sam still felt an obligation to check in on them for him.

He noted the empty pots of dried up flowers as he approached the front porch solo this time. It was a detail he hadn’t picked up on during his first visit because he’d been so nervous. Now he took his time as he walked, gathering up the strength to put on a smiling face.

“Sam right?” The same home nurse as before answered the door after his knock, “where’s Danny?”

“I’m sorry, he’s a little occupied right now. I hope you don’t mind if I’m here in his place”.

“Of course!” Sarahbeth exclaimed and stepped aside to allow Sam entry into the house. “I’ve already got them at the table, just head back on to the kitchen”.

Sam could feel his hands shaking as he tried to remember his way through the house. It wasn’t too large, but it was an old build with lots of little rooms and it was filled with decades of furniture and decor that got you turned around easily. When he arrived in the right spot Danny’s grandma didn’t register his presence.

“Hi Mrs. Wagner, Mr. Wagner” Sam spoke up softly to not startle them. He got an acknowledgement and a couple of soft smiles, but neither seemed very alert today. Was this what Danny normally walked into?

“Danny’s friend Sam came to visit today. Isn’t that nice?” Sarabeth took over the conversation and waved a hand for him to take a seat as she prepared plates. She didn’t seem phased by their lack of communication which only further confirmed this was the usual.

“How are you feeling today?” Sam took the same seat as he had the first time he was here, hoping the repetition would jog some memories.

“I’ve had better days deary” Mrs. Wagner finally managed to reply though it wasn’t directly to Sam, more like she just spoke to herself.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m not having the best day myself” Sam was honest, there was no reason for him not to be if they weren’t going to remember this visit at all.

“What’s got you bothered?” Sarabeth questioned instead, sounding genuinely concerned for this person she hardly even knew.

“It’s Danny-” Sam choked out, his throat swelling and his voice rising in pitch.

“Is everything okay?” She set the plates in her hands down quickly, expecting the worst news considering the line of work he was in wasn’t exactly the safest.

Sam debated how much he should be telling her. Knowing Danny he probably didn’t want to be painted in a bad light to his family, even just the kind girl who was taking care of them, but his emotions were getting the best of him and he needed a release. “He’s fine physically, he’s being detained at the sheriff’s station pending an investigation. I was just there this morning but they haven’t let me see him”.

“An investigation?! Whatever for?”

“It’s stupid, he’s totally innocent. My brothers are working with their lawyer to get him cleared of the charges as soon as possible and I plan to be there when they let him out”.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this” she turned around again to pull some glasses from the cabinet, filling them with water and offering one to Sam. “I can’t believe this, we had no idea”.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn’t want you sitting around and wondering why he didn’t show up”.

“No no, you’re perfectly fine dropping in any time you want, for any reason” Sarabeth seemed to suddenly remember lunch was getting cold, and quickly finished setting the table. “Here, eat something before you go back”.

Sam smiled weakly, thanking her for her hospitality and tried to eat as much as he could as he attempted more polite conversation.

“I really wish I could accompany you to the station, but as you can see I can’t really leave these two alone for very long” Sarabeth said to Sam as she walked him back to the door.

“I’ll call with any updates” he assured her, gripping the keys to Jake’s truck he was still driving in his hand so tight that the ridged cut outs were digging into the skin of his palm. “I hope I didn’t upset them with my bad mood”.

“Oh they’re fine. Part of me is a little relieved Danny couldn’t make it today. This is the worst they’ve been in a while, it’s such a turn around from last time. He puts on a strong front, but I know it still gets to him”.

“Yeah…” Sam trailed off, thinking about the last visit and how dispirited Danny had gotten even when they’d had a good day. “Anyways, thanks for lunch”. They exchanged goodbyes and he hopped back into the truck.

When Sam reached the sheriff's station again he was met with an explosion of news vans ranging from the next county over all the way to the city.

“Sam! Where the fuck have you been?!” Josh hollered to get his attention after he parked across the street again. “I’ve been calling you”.

Sam pulled out his phone and realized he had it on silence, and what do you know there were five missed calls from J-boss (the contact name he’d stored Josh’s number under).

“What’s happening? Why is all this here?” Sam’s eyes darted around searching through reporters and their counterparts carrying heavy video equipment.

“The lawyer called me about half an hour ago. He said the questioning was going well. They don’t have any evidence to keep Danny in custody any longer-”

“So he’s being released?!” Sam cut him off excitedly, nearly jumping around his brother and running up to the doors to see for himself.

“Wait!” Josh caught him with both hands on his shoulders to hold him in place, “Jake told me last night he was having an affair with Suzy. We think Tom found out and tried to frame someone else after he realized what he did. He’s being taken in now that’s what all the commotion is about”.

“What the fuck” Sam let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “How could he do that?”

“He’s a sick fuck. How else could someone kill anybody?” Josh replied before Sam quickly corrected him.

“No, Jake! How could he be seeing Suzy like that knowing her husband was a grade A asshole? And then to put Danny in the line of fire?”

“Sam he loved her. What else was he supposed to do, just let her continue her life in a miserable marriage? You of all people know how depressed and messed up Jake was when he wasn’t with her. There’s no way he could have known Tom would actually go this far”.

Sam’s lips flattened into a harsh line as he bit back everything else he had to say, knowing that in the heat of the moment he tended to speak out of line. “I hope they put him away for a long fuckin time” he managed after some more reflection and coming to grips with who was actually at fault here.

“Me too” Josh let his hands fall back to his sides. It was a fucked up thing to happen regardless- even without Danny getting roped up in the mess.

“So what now?” Sam asked, glad he had someone else here with him now. “Where’s Jake?”

“He’s still at my place. Sleeping finally. He doesn’t need to be here anyways he’d just get himself into more trouble” Josh moved to stand next to Sam, crossing his arms over his chest and watching all the buzz. “All we can do now is wait”.

“Have you decided if you’re coming or not?” Sam turned to Danny, whom he’d made try on a pair of his own black slacks since Danny hadn’t brought something that nice to wear when packing to come live on a ranch. Even Sam’s pants were still a little too short on him, but they fit well enough.

“I don’t know… I feel like I’m unwelcome after everything that happened” Danny replied, tucking in the shirt Sam had also pulled from his closet. At least his own black boots would match the ensemble of borrowed clothes

“After they falsely accused you of a crime you didn’t commit? They can get over it” Sam groaned from inside the bathroom where he was making one last effort to wet his hair and make sure he didn’t have any frizz. “God I can’t believe that scumbag ever thought he could get away with putting the blame on someone else”.

“Sam” Danny spoke softly, and he watched through the mirror in front of him as the gentlest most endearing man he’d ever met came up from behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Sam leaned into his touch, letting his head fall back on Danny’s chest and in turn he placed his chin on Sam’s shoulder.

It had only been a few days since Danny was released, so tension had still been high as they waited around to see what came next. Official charges were pressed against Tommy McVain by the state, and he’d been taken into custody pending a trial. Now all that was left to do was attend this funeral and hopefully finally put some minds to ease once they got to say their goodbyes.

“I don’t want to go alone” Sam muttered, bringing his hands up around his neck and digging his fingers into the tops of his shoulders, secretly wishing Danny was giving another massage.

“You won’t be” Danny replied, just as quietly as Sam spoke.

“Josh is already so focused on keeping Jake put together, and I can already tell Jake is about one misstep and a single comment away from spiraling out of control again. I didn’t know Suzy’s friends and family like they did. So yes I will be alone”.

Danny used his grip on Sam’s waist to turn him around to face him, then brought his hands against each cheek, “Then why are you going?”

“Because I loved Suzy too” Sam confessed. Not like Jake loved her, no there was something deep rooted there- a childhood love that never stood a chance of being snuffed out.

Suzy never put up with Sam’s shit. She held herself to a higher standard than this small town ever afforded her, and she had been waiting for the day Jake was going to whisk her away. He knew Jake wasn’t only mourning the loss of her, but the loss of the life they had planned together.

“I just need you there. I need you there for me”. Sam didn’t care how selfish that sounded. Regardless of what anybody still thought about Danny’s involvement, he needed to be there to show everyone that he was a member of this community now and he deserved to be there just as much as Sam did.

Danny quietly leaned in and placed a tender kiss against Sam’s lips, just enough pressure to make Sam’s eyes momentarily flutter closed. “That’s all you needed to say”.

Jake had always looked good in black Sam thought. Though on this particular occasion he looked the worst he’d ever seen him in his life. He couldn’t blame him anymore, couldn’t even imagine what he must be going through right now. The grief hidden behind stone cold eyes, the anger bubbling just under the surface… the unavoidable guilt.

They sat in the last pew of the church they attended as children. Sam had to admit he hadn’t been back in years, but at some point growing up he’d felt like it wasn’t necessarily a place for him any longer. Not that he wasn’t a spiritual person, he and his brothers had been raised to believe that there was grace in everything all around you- not just tucked behind the doors of a church you were obligated to visit every Sunday. Half of the time here was spent socializing rather than sending your praises to the Lord anyways. Now here they were all back here sitting side by side singing hymnals from the same dusty books with broken spines they had before.

Sam thought Jake was being a little bit ridiculous by wearing his sunglasses inside. At least until Mr. Johnson got up behind the pulpit to share a few words. He watched, disassociating from everything else that was happening around him as Jake curled a finger underneath one of the lenses to clear his waterline and Sam got a brief look at how bloodshot his eyes were.

His heart clenched in his chest and he reached over to pull Danny’s hand into his lap, letting it come to rest comfortingly on his thigh. He didn’t care if anyone noticed; after going through the stress of not knowing what would happen to him, and seeing the lingering sadness in Jake who had truly lost his lover once and for all, he wasn’t going to let Danny go so easily anymore.

It seemed to be that the only one paying him any attention though was Josh, who glanced down at their subtle display of affection and back up to meet Sam’s eyes staring back at him. All Josh had to do was smile softly and Sam knew they were going to be okay. They were all going to make it through this one way or another, but no matter what it would be together.

“I saw Jake was back at work today” Danny broke the silence that had settled between them as they sat together in the grass just enjoying the beautiful weather for once. Danny leaned up against a tree that offered them a parasol of shade from the beating rays up above, his eyes closed in content satisfaction.

Sam sat next to him. His legs were thrown over Danny’s lap while the large sun-kissed hands of someone who constantly worked outside mindlessly explored his thighs, squeezing and caressing the fleshy bits that lay hidden under old grease stained jeans. He hummed his response, his mind and fingers busy plucking tiny purple flowers from the ground and sticking their stems into the umber ringlets before him.

“How long do you think we have before he starts barking orders at us again?” Danny questioned light heartedly. Truthfully, he was glad to see him here.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s already cussing up a storm trying to figure out where we are” Sam replied, admiring his work of about a dozen wild flowers dotting Danny’s hair.

“Well, guess we’d better get back over there then”. Danny started to move Sam’s legs off of him, but before he could attempt standing up Sam was already back in his lap- this time chest to chest.

“I’m not ready yet” Sam opposed. He didn’t even have to assert his dispute for very long either, because as soon as his lips met Danny’s, arms came circling around to hold him tightly in place.

Sam didn’t pay any mind to the new grass stains that would surely show on his jeans now too as he spread his knees wider, making Danny gasp and hiss at the friction Sam’s moments caused. “You know I never did get a chance to tell you what my safe word is going to be”. He whispered into Danny’s ear teasingly.

“Oh?” Danny’s voice turned up at the end of his response, paired with one of his hands slipping down to grab at Sam’s ass and keep him moving on top of him.

“It’s time”.

“Time?” That he didn’t expect, and he took a few moments to rake through his clouded brain to try and solve Sam’s little puzzle, ultimately coming up empty handed. “Ok, what does it mean?”

Sam snickered into his ear now, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to use it”. His confidence was unparalleled, but Danny had learned to not expect any less from Sam by this point. “Unless you think you can last more than eight seconds?”

The reference finally clicked in Danny’s head. Sam was referring to rodeo bull riding and when they called time. It was clever he had to admit, and a little cheeky, just like Sam.

Before things could get any more heated, Sam pulled back, his voice returning to a more serious tone. “Rodeo is comin’ in just a couple of weeks. You still going to do it?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t had much practice” Danny sighed. He was certainly still interested, but after all that had happened and with Jake being gone for so long they had been too busy to sneak away. Today was the first afternoon they had cut themselves some slack and he was enjoying spending this time with Sam in his lap rather than being knocked into the dirt.

“We will practice. You should go and I’m comin’ along to watch too”.

“Yeah?” Danny tightened his grip on Sam’s ass again, sending him back into his chest with a giggle. “You going to be my buckle bunny?” He took his turn to tease now, nipping at Sam’s neck making him laugh louder and try to push away.

“You wish!” Sam exclaimed, a sinful smile playing across his face. “I just want to see if you’re as good at riding as I am”.

“No one is as good as you are Sam, not ever” Danny finally let him go but quickly placed one more kiss to Sam’s cheek before he got up.

“Well, why don’t we test that once more tonight?”

#Greta van fic #greta van fleet #Sam Kiszka #Danny Wagner #sanny gvf #gvf

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