#my friend (the one who did the lighting for the show and wrote the super good one-act play) has been making a website for our theater group

[agentravensong]

:D i now have access to 100+ more photos of our production of hamlet than i did this morning :D

[somewhereincairparavel]

I think the reason Rick fumbled with writing Jason's abilities/personality is because he was too focused on Jason existing as Percy's rival to focus on Jason as an individual character. And the funniest thing is, in the end, Jason was not considered satisfactory rival to Percy by the fandom either, which is ironic since that was the whole point of his character.

Rick seemingly screwed up the whole rivalry thing because, though he wanted someone to challenge Percy's power, he didn't want that person (Jason) to be more powerful than Percy or more enjoyable than Percy either, in the fear that the audience might start enjoying Jason more.

When you write a rival, you have to make sure that the rival character has equally powerful personality and strength/abilities compared to the person that they're rivalled with.

But Rick? The way he wrote Jason was like a half done updo. He dumped all the cool power on Percy (like potentially implying that Percy has bloodbending,can control water inside of someone, making sure Percy wins ALMOST every fight (and i mean, almost, there is a very rare time Percy ever loses) while limiting his power with Jason in every way possible, making the stupid brick jokes to make sure Jason always passes out in a fight, the whole "I only get one lighting bolt a day from my father" (it's a dumbass logic too, Jason should've been able to summon that much power of lighting on his own, he does NOT need his dad for that shit c'mon now) like it's an obvious effort to make jason appear weaker. Rick did all of this while lazily trying to shoehorn Jason's achievements in the plot by implying it but not actually showing it, like a "yeah he did this cool shit once ig" which makes it less impressive compared to Percy's achievements, which is something we've actually witnessed firsthand. Rick intentionally never brought up or expanded upon Jason's achievements much. He only emphasized everyone's awe of him being the son of Jupiter, which made it seem like Jason had the 'big three child privilege' where people didn't give a fuck about his efforts but instead his position.

Alright Rick, don't give him power, but atleast give him a personality? Nope he isn't getting that either. Jason had the potential to make DARK jokes about his controlled millitary life in Rome, and explore his past. Like I badly wanted a passage of Jason getting his memories back in fragments, Rick could've added flashbacks of Jason's past in his pov in a way that he gets his memories back. Instead he went "yeah yeah jason got all his memories back, it's all good" like SHOW us that wtf?? sure let's make sure he's as stale as possible to the audience, we can't have anyone liking the underdog over Percy Jackson!

He also made sure that Jason had it super hard in life aswell but never emphasized it or gave him anything good compared to Percy.

Don't get me wrong, percy definitely had it rlly hard, but Atleast Rick made sure Percy had a loving mom and a stepdad, a loving girlfriend and a cute adorable sister that he could play and spend time with, he got to celebrate birthdays with Sally, he got to eat her tasty blue food, and he actually had an ambrosia taste. You mean to tell me that Jason's sister barely had time for him, that he hasn't had a single birthday and that ambrosia tastes like sawdust for him while you give the other members of the seven, delicious ambrosia taste? 😤

Jason Grace has gotten the worst life in his own story, he wasn't "powerful" enough for a child of Zeus, he was "boring" , nobody properly trusted him, he died painfully, he didn't have parents, he barely talked to his sister, he didn't have a childhood, he was abandoned to blood thirsty animals when he was TWO, he didn't have a birthday, he didn't have an ambrosia taste, his girlfriend dumped him, he never got to see his best friend before he died, and he is terribly hated by the fandom who are simply turning a blind eye to his struggles because "no Percy will always be better in every way" yeah. I could go on and on.

[gluion]

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ myung jaehyun

myung jaehyun x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and jaehyun relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward… i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so… parental issues, both of you come from cheongju for the sake of the story, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and jaehyun is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won’t work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. you can access the changmin & hanbin vers as well! please do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “with their climactic performance,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote seven articles. like, six profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2019. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all seven articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2019, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?���

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2019

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with an ‘m’.

“myung jaehyun.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“myung jaehyun?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

myung jaehyun made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even baek jiheon, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” jaehyun looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like jaehyun had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to hwang intak, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at jaehyun until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at jaehyun; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with jaehyun for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

jaehyun reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at jaehyun, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of jaehyun but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “jaehyun, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that jaehyun, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with jaehyun. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with boynext—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “jaehyun.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and jaehyun were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

jaehyun’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

jaehyun hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

jaehyun finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans jaehyun’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” jaehyun insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. jaehyun pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow jaehyun outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of jaehyun sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting five years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves jaehyun. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, jaehyun only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at jaehyun who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long for mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed jaehyun. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with jaehyun’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, jaehyun takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2019

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” jaehyun’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” jaehyun pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

jaehyun laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards jaehyun, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” jaehyun complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” jaehyun does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over jaehyun’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

jaehyun’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” jaehyun starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at jaehyun and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days jaehyun ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” jaehyun nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” jaehyun bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and jaehyun shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and jaehyun were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at jaehyun who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once jaehyun hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and jaehyun were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and jaehyun. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” jaehyun starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, jaehyun giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of jaehyun and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but jaehyun could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

jaehyun’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and jaehyun didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from jaehyun’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned jaehyun to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and jaehyun. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—jaehyun’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with jaehyun, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to jaehyun’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before jaehyun entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

jaehyun knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will jaehyun get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and jaehyun’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to jaehyun. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s seven articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and six profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then six profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called boynextdoor?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“boynextdoor?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the brunette who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened a year ago; it’s shorter than the amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did jaehyun undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a jaehyun focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, jaehyun’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

jaehyun is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2019

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that jaehyun boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from jaehyun?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, jaehyun is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, jaehyun?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit jaehyun’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing jaehyun, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

jaehyun moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is jaehyun.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with jaehyun then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to jaehyun. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” jaehyun is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” jaehyun is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, he couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” jaehyun says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me first.”

with his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

jaehyun exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been five years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2019

out of all the seasons, jaehyun’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, jaehyun prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” jaehyun looks up from his desk to see jiheon standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

jaehyun laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when jaehyun last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, jaehyun reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” jiheon groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves jaehyun alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “baek jiheon, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as jaehyun’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from jaehyun. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into jaehyun’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with jaehyun was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: compared to your other members, you’ve spent a lot of years dancing and training to become an idol. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and brother were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as boynextdoors’s myung jaehyun? a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my brother, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [boynextdoor], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. onedoor, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be boynextdoor’s leader or myung jaehyun if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal @blissfullsvn @lovialy @onedoornet

[batboyblog]

hey thanks for not being super doomer over these anti-trans bills. i kept on seeing so many people being defeated over them and it messed up my mental health for a while, like nothing could be done. but you did bring up some good points and shed some light onto people who are actively fighting for us so i thank you again

The queer movement, in the US any ways, has always been cyclical, we make big gains and push forward, then there's a super scary backlash. We're right now at the hight of a really scary backlash thats focused on trans people in particular but is anti-queer more generally. It's intense but its important to remember these backlashes don't generally last very long, they are scary, but each time they've happened, the mid to late 1970s, the 1980s, the early 2000s, the tide has gone out and gay rights, LGBT rights, and society's acceptance of LGBT people has been farther along than before they have never ever managed to turn us back in the years since Stonewall.

And as intense and scary as this is in some ways it's better than last time, when I was a gay teenager. in those days... in 2004 and 2008 the Democrats running for President were uniformly against gay marriage (the big issue of that time) they were trying to get us to settle for the not marriage alternative of civil unions. Only a handful of Congresspeople (some of them gay themselves) in DEEP! blue districts dared to support gay marriage outright. Today the Democratic Party is the most pro-LGBT major political party in the world, you had the President and every Democrat of any note making statements for TDOV a few days ago and you're not seeing even red state Democrats back down and agree to be "a little transphobic" for votes. It felt a lot more lonely last time when it was us and a handful of allies fighting the backlash with most of the Democratic Party on the side lines handwringing and saying "well can't you wait?"

any ways this movement is and will always be a struggle, the rights we've won, the acceptance we've received has never just been given, it's been won, through hard work. Everyone has to dedicate themselves to work in their corner of the earth to the best of their abilities and to push themselves past what they think they can do. That means hooking up with LGBT rights groups on the ground to protest, to rally, to try to support and comfort those queer people who are down and out in whatever way right now, it means digging deep and having hard and awkward conversations with the people in your life, if you're gay or trans or whatever and you got that one aunt/uncle/cousin/whoever in your life that loves you to bits but you know still votes Republican and you just don't bring it up because you don't want to hurt the relationship... have the talk keep having the talk as many times as you need to. Tell your grandparents if they don't know, tell your parents (if its safe or if you don't need their money any more) tell co-workers who don't know etc, they vote for us 2 to 1 if they know they know one of us. Finally register to vote, make sure all your friends particularly if you're young are registered and vote, vote in every election. Trust me it's AMAZINGLY easy to find the email of candidates for school board or city council and it's amazingly easy to ask questions. Last election I emailed every school board candidate about Holocaust education, and the state rep candidate about trans rights, she wrote me back a lovely note and mailed be a sticker she'd picked up from a trans rights group. It's amazingly easy to get involved, I volunteered with my local democrats for one election and they offered me the #3 spot in their local party, I have the phone numbers of my state rep and state senator without trying really, you can get in the room with these people, with candidates for governor, congress, I have my picture with 3 US Presidents? its not hard to do, and you can use chances like that to talk to them and show them your humanity and leave an impression that really matters in the long run.

sorry to RAMBLE but it's important that everyone do their part, pick a little something, a project to push this thing forward, people doom scrolling, particularly posting about how its hopeless does not help, posting in general doesn't help much even if its not doomerism, I think in the years after the anti-gay marriage Bush backlash we got very online and we got very "progress just happens" and a lot of people fell out of the habit or came of age without the habit of protest and without a local queer community or local progressive community and its very important in the face of this to find or build those and also understand in some places its gonna be years of work to get where we want to go, but we will and it'll be worth all the work.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Inarizaki’s Manager

Miss Manager is Shy and Cute 🥹

Inarizaki x shy and cute! Female manager (she/her pronoun)

Warnings: Atsumu starts off as a butthole but we reform him, fluff

A/N: I wrote a headcanon set earlier with a shy reader and well, now I think I’m a shy reader expect 💅 so here’s one of my favs with a shy manager 😌

Oof- you good, girl?

Seriously this team is like the opposite of shy and calm

I wouldn’t say they are Karasuno level but they get HYPED

Now, many of them had given up the dream of ever having a female manager

They were prepared to brave it alone (namely Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akashi, Suna, Ginjima, etc)

They knew what their problem was…

Well PROBLEMS

Atsumu and Osamu

But it’s fine because they were efficient 💅

Kita did everything and well, Kita did everything

But that all changed when one day our precious Angel, Riseki, met someone new 👀

You see, you were the new girl in school

A curse honestly

Being the new kid is never easy, trying to find friends or fit in with everyone is so hard

And to top it off, you were ridiculously shy and a wallflower

It’s not that you didn’t want to make friends but your shy, cute nature made it difficult

When you first joined Riseki’s class, he thought you were rather cute

You kept to yourself, didn’t bother anyone

You were smart and capable

And most importantly, you had absolutely NO CLUE who the Miya twins were 😌

Riseki had watched you a few times, and you showed a lot of promise

You seemed to be able to ignore all the Miya chat surrounding you

You didn’t seem bothered by the fan girls

And most importantly, when a Miya fight would break out, you’d simply ✨ignore ✨ it

The problem was that Riseki knew you were shy

You’d never speak up in class, you barely talked to anyone

But he also knew this was his opportunity

So what does he do? Well he confides in Kita

“Hey Kita, so I think I might have found us a potential manager?”

Kita 👉🏻😐😑 *not convinced or optimistic whatsoever*

“Is this person a teenage girl?” Kita asks in return

“Yes but-”

Kita 👉🏻 No 🫶🏻🥰

“Here me out tho, she’s a transfer student and I’ve been keeping an eye on her,” Riseki says

Kita 👉🏻🤨 creepy but ight-

“She has shown zero reaction to the Miyas at all! Like none, not even a second glance!” He says

Kita 👉🏻 tell me more…

Riseki goes on to explain more about you and Kita agrees to give you a small trial run

Ok now that Kita is convinced, all Riseki needs to do is ask you

Simple right?

“Hey Yn!” He yells as you freeze

You rn 👉🏻😐😳

Please you are looking around like “is he talking to me? Am I Yn?”

“Hey I was wondering if you had a club yet?” He asked as you just stared 👁️👄👁️

Please Yn, function

Riseki realizes that he probably came in way too strong, so he backs up a bit

“Umm I’m sorry to come at you so strong but I was wondering if you needed a club? The boys volleyball team is looking for a manager and I think you’d be perfect,” he says as your eyes widen even more

Please blink before your eyes dry up

“Ohh umm I don’t think I umm- I’m not sure I’d be good- I don’t play volleyball or know anything really,” you say as you blush heavily

Riseki is DYING at how cute you are 😭

“It’s ok Yn! I can teach you everything and the guys, wellmostoftheguys, are super helpful!” He says as you ponder for a bit

Maybe this is just what you need? You never take chances like this and maybe now is the time to start branching out

“Umm I guess I can try,” you say, a tiny smile lighting up your face as Riseki dies inside 😭

After school, he brings you to practice

The gym is huge and all the guys in it are huge as well

You start to second guess your decision

Maybe you aren’t cut out to be social, yeah maybe you’ll just be shy forever

Suddenly you are forced out of you thoughts when you are approached by four guys

You quickly take refuge behind Riseki and peer out from behind him as the boys all smile at you

“Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akagi- this is Yn! Yn these are our third years!” Riseki says as you blush hard and peek out from behind him

“Umm hello, I’m YN from class 1-4. It’s very n-nice to meet y-you,” you stutter out as the third years practically perish

How the heck are you so freaking cute?? 😭

“It’s nice to meet you YN, I’m Kita, the captain. Thank you so much for coming to meet with us,” Kita says, already impressed that you aren’t making waves or causing any disruptions

“T-thank you for having me,” you say as you stand next to Riseki now, a little more confident

“So Yn, do you know anything about volleyball?” Aran asks as you shake your head

“Not really but I’m a pretty fast learner,” you say as the boys all nod

Suddenly, a rouge ball comes flying out of nowhere as you quickly take cover as Akagi stops it from hitting you

“Are you ok Yn?” Kita asks as you nod

“I’m fine thank you,” you say before being approached by a boy with a yellowish blonde hair color

“Hey girls aren’t allowed in the gym!” He shouts as you reeled back a bit

Who was this extremely rude person?

“Shut up ya idiot! Obviously she’s talking to the captain!” A silver toned man says

“Yeah well I don’t need to be interrupted by any squealing pigs during my serves so get out of here!” He shouts at you as you quietly back up

“ATSUMU! Knock it off, stop being so rude! This isn’t one of your fan girls, this is Yn and she’s going to be our trial manager!” Kita scolds the yellowish blonde as he scoffs

“This? This is going to be our manager? She’s tiny and looks like she’s afraid of her own shadow! How is she going to ever be a manager for a powerhouse?” Atsumu says as you whince a little

Man he was a jerk 😒

“Damn Sumu, you’re being a jerk! Leave the poor girl alone,” a tall black haired man says

“Suna’s right! She didn’t do anything to you,” Omimi says as Atsumu stares at you

“She’s literally taking up space! Like how is she going to even be helpful?” Atsumu says as you finally lose it

“Excuse me,” you say, a little anger and agitation now clear on your voice

Everyone 👉🏻👀

“Yes, I maybe a little shy and skittish at times but it’s extremely rude of you to judge someone you haven’t even been introduced to,” you say as the men all look at you

Kita is like mentally taking notes

Suna has his phone out and recording 📱

Riseki is like “who is this?”

“My name is Yn and I’m a first year. I might not be the best but I’m smart and I learn quickly. If I interrupted your practice, I apologize but I won’t stand here and be treated with disrespect,” you say as you bow and take your leave

Honestly Queen shit 👑

Oohhhh Kita and Riseki are BIG MAD

Kita doesn’t say anything, he just GLARES at Atsumu

Riseki turns and goes after you but not before giving Atsumu the death glare of a lifetime

Aran, Omimi and Akagi are ready to kill

Suna is still recording 📱

Ginjima has now joined the pack and is wondering what the heck is going on

And Osamu, well Osamu is 👀 👇🏻

“YOU TYRANNICAL PIGGGGG!” He shouts as he kicks Atsumu in the back

But this time, nobody stops him from beating up his brother

The team 👉🏻 😙🎶

Meanwhile-

“YN wait! Please wait- I’m so sorry about Atsumu!” Riseki says apologizing to you

“Riseki, I’m sorry but I can’t-,”

“Please Yn! PLEASE! Please just give us a shot! I promise, we will kick Atsumu off the team if we have to just please be our manager!” Riseki says, on his knees BEGGING

Dang these guys really want a manager ��

You sign, “I’ll do a trial run if it means that much to you.”

Riseki 👉🏻😐😳🥹 really?!?

You smile and nod a little

Riseki pulls you in for a deep hug 🫂 as you simply blush

And this began your journey as Inarizaki’s sweet manager

I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing but alas, Atsumu is still on the team 🙄

You aren’t sure why but at first, he’s just not nice at all

Like he refuses to take a towel from you, or even drink the water you hand him

He kind of makes you miserable

He knows how shy you are so he often puts you on the spot just to embarrass you

“Hey Yn do you know what that was called?” He says as he slams a serve over

Omimi and Akagi 👉🏻🙄 here we go…

Kita 👉🏻 😐😑 Atsumu-

Osamu 👉🏻 just say the word Yn 🙎‍♂️🤛🏻

Suna 👉🏻👀📱

“Umm a serve ace right?” You shyly respond

“Well would you look at that, she can learn,” Atsumu laughs as he walks away

Everyone is GLARING at Sumu rn

Literally Riseki was not joking when he said they would kick him off the team Yn

Idk if you bruised his ego or what Yn but man’s has it out for you 😅

However, one thing about Atsumu is that you can win the man over

It’s simple really… 🙌🏻 praise 🙌🏻

And you do just that

“Sumu your sets are really off today!” Aran says as Atsumu glares at him

“Yeah dude you literally almost flubbed our quick,” Suna says as Atsumu rolls his eyes and walks away

He sits on the bench, putting a towel over his head as he ponders

He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today but he’s been off all day

You noticed something was off, thinking maybe he was just having a bad day

But then you realized that Atsumu Miya wasn’t use to having bad days

So you decide to extend an olive branch

You walk over the him as he sits on the bench

“YN wait!” Osamu tries to stop you but he can’t

Suna’s eyes widen in fear for your life as Kita gets ready to save you from certain destruction

You calmly sit beside Atsumu as he turns his head and glares at you

You smile a little and place your hand on his gently

The team 👉🏻😳😲

“Everyone has bad days Atsumu. If we didn’t have bad days, we’d never get better. I still think you’re an amazing setter and if you ever need a hug, I’m here for you,” you say as Atsumu’s eyes widen

Atsumu is to stunned to speak

Quick Suna take a picture!

Seriously he was so mean to you and yet, you were still so nice to him

You smile and stand up, walking back to practice when it happens 🫣

Two strong arms grasp you from behind as a warmth radiates around you

You smile a little, grabbing his arms and squeezing

“Thanks Yn,” Atsumu says as he lets go and walks back into the court

The entire team is too stunned to speak

You say nothing as you go back to your job, handling towels, volleyballs and notes

“Did that just happen?” Ginjima asks

“I think so? Is this a dream?” Omimi responds

“Holy crap Atsumu actually has a heart?” Suna says

“OF COURSE I HAVE A HEART YA IDIOT!” Atsumu screams from the court

“Not like anyone could every tell ya grinch!” Osamu responds

“EXCUSE YOU SIR?!? WE ALL HAVE BAD DAYS, IF WE DISNT HOW WOULD WE EVER GET BETTER!” Atsumu responds

“YN literally just told you that ya dummy!” Ginjima says, rolling his eyes 🙄

The guys go back to practice

This time, Atsumu is much more on point

You smile and clap as the boys all kill it in practice

You don’t cheer loud, simply clap and smile 😊

It’s literally giving them life Yn!

Now when it came time for tournaments, you can’t say you weren’t nervous

This was your first time around so many people

You were still pretty shy, even thought you’d become friends with the entire volleyball team

Literally they were so protective of their shy little manager 🥹

“Ok is everyone here?” Kita asks as you nod

You had been walking in back with Suna, making sure all the members stayed together

“Ok let’s go get warmed up!” Kita shouted as the guys all nodded and followed

You were walking when suddenly, your notebook fell and your papers scattered everywhere

“Crap!” You silently said as you kneeled down to pick them up

However what you failed to notice was that the team had continued to walk

You see where I’m going with this 👀

“Hey guys- oh no!” You said as you stood up, realizing there was every color of jersey surrounding you BUT black and white

You 👉🏻😐😳😢

“Ok Yn calm down, the team is somewhere,” you silently muttered to yourself as you wandered around giants

You felt like crying, scared and nervous because there were so many people around

You had to ask someone for help

Suddenly, you bumped into the back of someone

“I’m so sorry!” You said, tears in your eyes as she looked at you

“Oh it’s fine, hey are you ok?” She asked, gorgeous blue eyes watching you

You shook your head, eyes meeting hers

“Hey Kiyoko, I’ve got the bento boxes all sorted!” A blonde girl said, walking up to you

“What team do you work with?” The girl named Kiyoko asked

“I-I’m with Inarizaki,” you said as they both smiled

“Come with me and Yachi, we can take you to the gym,” Kiyoko said as Yachi stood beside you

“Thank you so much,” you say bashfully to the two pretty girls

Meanwhile…

“Ok Riseki, Ginjima can you help YN fill up the water bottles please?” Kita asks as they nod and look over to you

Only you’re not there 😅

They start looking all over for their precious bby

Please Ginjima even looks under his shoes incase he stepped on you 😭

“Umm Kita,” Riseki interrupts

“Yes,” Kita says looking at him

“YNs not here,” Riseki says as everyone stops

“What the hell? Where is she?” Kita says looking around everywhere for you

“Suna weren’t you walking with her?” Aran asks as Suna gulps

“She was with me just a a minute ago!” Suna says, now panicking too

“Oh my god and I was just starting to actually like her and you lost her?!?” Atsumu says as Osamu smacks the back of his head

Then they hear their opponents say something

“Has anyone seen Kiyoko and Yachi?” Their team captain says

“OH MY GOD WE HAVE A MANAGER KIDNAPPER!!!” Riseki yells as two of Karasunos memebers RUN from the gym

“We have to find Yn!” Aran shouts following them with the rest of the team

All that remains in the gym is Kita and Karasuno’s captain, Daichi

“We could just text them,” Daichi says as Kita nods

Back with you, you are enjoying talking with the two Karasuno managers

They both seem a little shy like you but they still manage a strong school

“The gym is just up this way-” Kiyoko says when you hear it

At first, it sounds like a stampede of elephants

Then you realize it’s just like 15 teenage boys racing toward you 😅

“YN OH MY GOD WE FOUND YOU!” Riseki says pulling you into a hug as your boys gather around you

“Are you hurt? Do you need help? Are you hungry?” Aran says panicking as you watch Kiyoko and Yachi fight off their team

You giggle a little, the boys taken a back

“I’m fine guys, I actually just made some friends!” You says smiling at Kiyoko and Yachi

Inarizaki rn 👉🏻😐😳🥹 our baby is growing up!

“Thanks Kiyoko and Yachi! I’ll see you in the gym!” You say, waving to the two girls as they follow you

You look over at Riseki and give him the biggest hug

Riseki rn 👉🏻😳

“Thanks for inviting me to be your team manager! Now let’s go kick some butt!” You say sweetly as the team stops

The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

No need to worry about the match Yn, I’m sure everything will be just fine 😌

[queercanon13]

The Karma music video is packed with queer and sapphic themes. But what’s with that yellow beret?

We all watched the Karma music video on Friday (or Saturday), right? And then we all watched it ten more times because there IS JUST SO MUCH THERE. Right?!

I can’t even begin to unpack the whole thing yet, but let’s talk about the yellow brick road scene.

Taylor is obviously wearing ruby slippers (“the rubies that I gave up”) alluding to Dorothy/the Wizard of Oz. But she’s not wearing the rest of Dorothy’s getup. That’s because she’s not Dorothy, but in fact a friend of Dorothy.

She’s holding a broom (lots of witchy themes from her lately) and blows a kiss of blue (iykyk) glitter to three grim reapers (the two SBs and…?).

She’s keeping her side of the street clean, which harkens to the YNTCD MV where she clearly shows which side of the street she’s on:

Other things of note: it appears there are daisies embroidered on her collar, as well as growing along the yellow brick road. Her braids are also looped (“your braids make a pattern”).

The yellow brick road itself may be a nod to Elton John and his album/song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Here are some of the lyrics from that song, as well as a generally accepted analysis of the lyrics:

&

Seems like it would be super relatable to Taylor, right? Add in Elton John’s queerness/coming out journey, and the parallels continue.

There are probably a hundred other things I’m missing just from that scene alone, but what I really wanna talk about is the yellow beret, especially in light of current news surrounding Taylor.

When I saw the yellow beret, I furiously googled “yellow beret” + the names of Taylor’s muses, but I came up empty-handed. Because Taylor is specifically not wearing a Dorothy costume, I knew that fucking hat had to mean something. Then I remembered — isn’t yellow beret a military term? And we know she loves a good war story. To Google I went, and the results did not disappoint.

During the Vietnam war, all physicians in the US had a mandatory draft order. One of the ways to avoid the draft was to apply for a position with a Public Health Service program called the NIH Associates Training Program. Because the elite program was highly competitive, only a small percentage of doctors were able to serve their required military time without going to war.

Yellow beret was a self-deprecating and derogatory term used by and for doctors who avoided getting a green beret/going to war (yellow can be associated with cowardice, i.e. “yellow-bellied”) via the NIH program.

Sounding familiar? But wait there’s more.

Bob Seger wrote a song in 1966 called The Ballad of the Yellow Beret. It was written as a parody of the song The Ballad of the Green Berets. Here are some of the lyrics (I encourage you to read all of them!):

Verse 1: Fearless cowards of the USA // Bravely here at home they stay // They watch their friends get shipped away // The draft dodgers of the Yellow Beret

Okay, I’m seated.

Verse 3: Men who faint at the sight of blood // Their high-heeled boots weren't meant for mud // The draft board will hear their sob stories today // Only the best win the yellow beret

Oooookay.

Verse 4: Back at home a young wife waits // Her yellow beret has met his fate // He's been drafted for marching in a protest //Leaving her his last request

Are you screaming yet? Just wait.

Verse 5: Put a yellow streak down my son's back // Make sure that he never ever fights back // At his physical have him say he's gay // Have him win the yellow beret

And if that wasn’t enough, two of the last lyrics are “I've got a pimple on my trigger finger” (ew) and “well, we were planning on having children sometime soon” (devastating). These themes also align with The Great War, epiphany, etc.

But despite attempts to diminish their efforts through claims of cowardice, these “yellow beret” physician-scientists contributed to some of the most important and innovative medical research we have today. Dr. Fauci attended the training program, as well as nine others who went on to win Nobel Prizes.

Could it be that Taylor is trying to tell us that, while it looks like she dodged the draft (didn’t come out), she’s doing some important mastermind shit behind the scenes? Only time will tell, but since we are now at “dawn,” I believe daylight is soon to follow. ☀️

[itamis-multi-muses]

Fallen for a Common Villager

Shisui Uchiha: Falling for someone who isn’t a Ninja isn’t a big deal for Shisui Uchiha. Sure, the Clan would rather he date a person who isn’t ‘weak’ or ‘fragile’, but, it’s really not up to them at the end of the day. The only thing that matters to Shisui is you. The way you watch him train for hours on end nearly every single day, the way you cook him a delicious meal when he returns home from a mission and the way you run your fingers through his hair to help him fall asleep.

He would be super protective of you, too. (I think all of the Uchiha men would be super protective of their wives tbh) Making sure that you hold his hand when you cross the road together, immediately jumps in to help you if something goes wrong in the kitchen (that Body Flicker Technique is hella useful) and when you’re reaching for your dropped cutlery on the floor, he will place his hand on the edge of the table where your head is so that you don’t hit it on the way back up.

Speaking of being protective, he will definitely keep you sheltered from his job as a Ninja as much as he can. He absolutely loves watching your eyes sparkle when he shows you a new jutsu or technique that he’s learned, but he will hardly ever talk about his missions. Someone as precious as you does NOT need to know about any blood he himself or his teammates had spilled whilst they were gone, and don’t even get him started on enemies infiltrating the Leaf Village. When he’s called into action, he’ll tell you that he needs to help protect the Village and the people in it, but that he loves you so much and needs you to stay as far away from the fighting as you can. Then, he will pick you up bridal style and teleport the two of you out of harms way. Before he leaves, he will place a tender kiss to your forehead and snake his arms around you in a quick embrace, letting you know that you are his top priority. And you always will be.

Itachi Uchiha: Itachi never intended to fall in love, period, especially not with a woman who wasn’t a Ninja. After that fateful night of the Uchiha Clan slaughter and joining the Rogue Ninja group, the Akatsuki, he had plenty of time to contemplate every single choice he had made in his life. He played them constantly, on repeat, every single night. Furthermore, he had come to the conclusion that, 1) In order for his plan to come to fruition, he needed to die at the hands of his little brother, and 2) He was irrevocably in love with you.

How could this have happened? He had worked so damn hard for the sake of the Leaf Village, never once thinking about selfish things such as love and romance. But now… It’s all he could think about. Did you know what he had done? Do you believe that he was a monster? If both answers were yes, could you ever possibly return his feelings? All of these rhetorical questions were irritating him to the brink of insanity. He knew what he had to do.

He snuck out of the Akatsuki hideout when Pein and Konan were away and made the strenuous journey to the village hidden in the leaves. There, he discovered you in your apartment, reading a light novel in your living room. He took a deep breath, hesitated, but politely knocked on your front door. You were shocked to see who your midnight visitor was, but you trusted him just enough to step outside and allow him to speak. He was one of your childhood friends, after all. Once Itachi had confessed his feelings and explained his situation to you, you were gobsmacked. Understatement of the year. After taking a few seconds to breathe and fully understand Itachi’s words, you smiled and took his hand in yours. In that moment, Itachi’s mental load subsided and he stayed with you until you fell asleep. Before he left back to the Akatsuki hideout, he found a pen and paper in your kitchen and wrote a note for you, placing it directly on top of the novel you were reading previously. ‘Sweet dreams, my dear. I will be back before you know it. - Itachi’.

Sasuke Uchiha: If there is one of the Uchiha boys who never believed in love, it’s this guy. He had one goal in life and one goal only: Become stronger so that he can kill a certain someone. He believed that nothing could detour him from his path of revenge… Until he witnessed you in an argument with one of your family members. You had stormed out of the house in a fit of rage and angrily kicked your trash can over, the contents spilling onto the freshly trimmed lawn. You groaned in frustration and tears sparkled in your eyes thanks to the full moon. He watched you for a few moments, trying to talk himself out of his out-of-the-blue curiosity towards you.

Unfortunately, it could not be done. He stepped out of the shadows and looked pitifully down at you as you sobbed into your hands. He caught your attention with a cough and told you to stop crying. That there are worse things in this world to cry about. To his surprise, your sadness became anger once more and you stood to confront him. You told him exactly where he could shove his opinion and where he could go. He merely smirked, mildly entertained by your little outburst. This angered you even more and you raised your hand to slap him, unaware of who or what he actually was. He gripped your wrist and locked eyes with you, his midnight orbs made you audibly gasp. Sasuke tilted his head slightly to the side and his infamous smirk reappeared. Maybe he should take a different approach with this pretty one, just this once? The young Uchiha sighed and dropped your arm back to your side and introduced himself. Your tears dried and the conversation continued… It felt as if you had known this young man your whole life. Although his aura was spine-chilling, there was something in his eyes that attracted him to you. Ashamedly, Sasuke could say the same thing.

Eventually, Sasuke insisted that he should go, but neither of you wanted that to happen. You asked him whether you would ever see him again, and Sasuke’s breath hitched in his throat. The realisation that he actually wanted to see you again caught him by surprise. He could only nod and look away from you, not wanting you to catch him off-guard and lose his cool (he has his reputation to uphold, duh). After that night, Sasuke made it a side-mission to visit the Leaf Village more often than he would have liked to take moonlit strolls with you through the empty streets and talk about anything and everything that came to mind. It was usually you doing all the talking and the Uchiha would listen intently and hum when appropriate. It’s safe to say that Sasuke Uchiha was becoming more open to the idea of love thanks to you.

{ Hi there, dear reader! It’s your girl back with another post about these insanely handsome Uchiha boys~ I really hope you enjoyed it because I put a lot of thought and love into this one! Well, that’s all for now. Thank you for reading! }

- Itami 🌸

[lovemybluebully]

Loser Logan

X-men '97-verse

Post Episode 4 (Felt like a good place to stick this before the angst of Episode 5)

M/M Tickle fic

SFW (some swearing, but it's mostly fluff)

I can't help but love Logan and Morph's relationship. It's almost as good as the one Logan has with Nightcrawler. ^_^ This dumb little fic of mine just shows their close relationship, and as per my usual naturally has A LOT of tickling in it. This is a tickle fic after all. I can see Morph being quite the tickle monster, especially since he enjoys making Logan laugh. If tickling isn't up your alley then best to scroll on.

I wrote this showing hints that Morph kinda has a thing for Logan with Logan seeming to get that even though he doesn't reciprocate it, but still loving his friend all the same and letting him indulge a little. Nothing super blatant.

NOTE: I did write Morph as a 'he' in this story. I honestly was just getting confused on how to properly use 'they/them'. Morph has predominantly been depicted as male and goes by ''Kevin" so I figured it was okay. If that bothers you though then maybe you want to skip this one.

Holy crap! I did not mean for it to be this long, but I was just having too much fun writing these two interacting together. I kept trying to end it, but just kept writing more and more each time. XD This is easily the longest fic I've ever written.

Word count: 9,911

Logan winced as the flavor of the extra sweet liquid overwhelmed his sensitive palate once he took a swig from his beer bottle. Making a face of disgust and shaking his head he set it down on the edge of the pool table in the mansion's rec room.

"That's the last time I let ya choose the beer at the market," he muttered, looking over at his friend, Morph, who frowned in offense before transforming into an exact copy of Wolverine.

"ThAt'S tHe LaSt TiMe I lEt Ya ChOoSe ThE-....," he mocked in Logan's voice before returning to his normal form, swaying a little from the alcohol in his system, "Geez, just dump it out then! No one is putting a gun to your head and forcing you to drink it."

Logan grunted and rolled his eyes as he reached for his bottle of whiskey to pour himself a shot. Morph could be so overdramatic.

"Look pal, if there's one thing ya oughta know about me it's that I never waste a beer. No matter how bad it may be," he tossed the liquor down his throat.

"That's not entirely true. Remember the other night when I turned into Sabretooth to try to cheer you up? You stabbed the crap out of that six pack I had brought along. You're definitely going to Hell for that one," Morph was quick to point out the incident as Logan recollected and spit out a laugh.

"Oh yeah. An unfortunate casualty in the heat o' the moment. Well with the exception of that time it's not somethin' I do consciously. Not even a crap light beer like this one. An' what's that flavor? Is that....strawberry?" He made another repulsed face as Morph only shrugged this time.

"Ok, you made your point. You pick the next box. But for the record that beer you destroyed the other night, that was your favorite. Thought it would help make you feel better."

"Still did in the end. Even though it sounds like I almost fucked it all up. Hmph, speakin' of that night I never told ya thanks fer all that," a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as the buzzed Morph threw an arm over his broad shoulders.

"Hey don't mention it. Despite you being a stubborn ass and trying to ignore me there was no way I was going to let you stay in that funk of a mood you were in," his arm tightened around Logan's neck while his free hand gave him a playful head noogie, making Logan growl and shove him away.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. I'm an asshole an' yer a saint." 

"Hey now, you're not just an asshole, you're my asshole........That came out wrong," Morph facepalmed while Logan chuckled quietly, "Oh hey, where's Jubilee at? Surprised she's not down here with us."

"Well she is gettin' older so I doubt she's wantin' to hang around a couple o' guys like us so much anymore. She seems to like that Roberto kid a lot, an' bein' that it's her birthday I imagine she's with him this evening," Logan growled a little as Morph laughed and patted him on the back.

"Easy killer. He seems like a nice kid. Just needs to come to terms with his mutant side, and Jubilee is doing everything to help him out with that. She's blossoming into a smart, beautiful young lady and you should be proud of her."

"Still I'm keepin' an eye on him. An' if he ever does anything to hurt her, I'll make sure he regrets it...slowly," Logan picked up his pool stick and bent over the table to play his next shot, but then chuckled as something came to his mind, "By the way speakin' of regret, real smooth with that jab at Magneto this mornin'."

Morph's face fell as he groaned while the moment from earlier replayed in his head, leaning against the table with beer in hand.

"Ugh, why'd you have to bring that up? That was so embarrassing! I mean, how was I supposed to know?"

"I gotta ask, is it unintentional, or do ya just really like makin' situations as awkward as humanly possible?" Logan was able to get his shot off and sink his ball into the side pocket, but it was immediately followed by a finger poking him in the ribs as he jumped with a half-giggle, "Shit! Quit doin' that!"

The shapeshifter gave a satisfied smirk at his reaction and grabbed a cue stick for his turn at the game.

"You asked for it. But seriously, I felt so bad about what I said. If he already didn't before I'm sure he totally hates my guts now."

"Well I wouldn't sweat it too much. The guy's a prick. Besides I'm pretty sure he ain't in his room cryin' about it right now. He's heard a lot worse than yer tasteless joke so don't flatter yerself," Logan shrugged, rubbing a big hand over his irritated ribs as he begrudgingly finished off his beer.

"I guess so. Still I feel like maybe I should go apologize later. He might appreciate that. What do you think?" Morph was toying with the stick in his hand now as his mind wandered, causing the bigger man to roll his eyes.

"I think ya oughta stop worryin' about it an' take yer damn shot already."

"Sorry, it's the alcohol, I guess. I'm a bit of a lightweight if you haven't noticed," Morph replied, the effects of the alcohol making him a bit unsteady as he squinted and tried to line up his shot, "You know it wouldn't kill you to show a little more compassion once in a while."

"That'll be the day. Besides I think ya do enough o' that fer the both of us, Nancy," Logan grinned and slapped his friend on the upper back right after he had hit the cue ball, sending him face down into the table.

"Excuse me? Did someone say my name?" Morph sounded off with his best Scott Summers voice as he lifted his head to reveal the face of their team's leader, making Logan chuckle dryly.

"Yer a real riot, ya know that?"

"I'm very aware, thank you. And I still scored a point despite you. In fact it looks like I'm winning so far," Morph transformed back to normal and stuck his tongue out at him as Logan surveyed the remaining pool balls left in play.

"Easy to be winnin' when ya cheat. It's a little hard to concentrate when some shit head keeps ticklin' ya," he gave a stern look as Morph just giggled at the thought. 

With Logan's natural hyper senses and Morph's spirited personality and tendency to be physically affectionate it didn't take long for him to discover at some point in their relationship that Logan was unbelievably ticklish from head to toe; something Morph found incredibly hard to resist exploiting at every turn. 

With his adamantium skeleton and healing factor Wolverine was practically impenetrable and his mind was very accustomed to handling the worst pain imaginable so Morph was beyond pleased to find something that could easily crack through his tough outer shell and loosen him up a bit.

It didn't help that Logan always let him get away with it unscathed, but Morph also had the feeling that Logan really didn't mind it too much, despite what he might say.

"It's not my fault the big, bad Wolverine is so adorably sensitive," Morph teased with a pouting face as he gently tugged Logan's sideburn, receiving a half-hearted growl and swat to his hand, "Besides it's the most surefire way to get a smile out of you."

"I don't need ya worryin' about me so much, Morph. It ain't worth yer time," Logan huffed and poured himself another shot of whiskey.

"I think I'm allowed to be the judge of that. You can't shut us all out, you know? No matter how hard you may try. Like it or not, you're stuck with me until the end of time," he smiled broadly as Logan let out a sigh and swallowed the shot.

"I get what yer sayin', but ya have yer own problems that ya need to work out. The things ya went through with Sinister.....shit like that doesn't go away overnight. I know yer always hidin' yer pain behind humor, but sooner or later yer gonna have to deal with it. Take it from me, ya got a long road ahead before ya can even begin to start healin'. So the last thing I want is fer you to be takin' on all my fuckin' issues too," he sulked, leaning against the wall as Morph looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're right about some things, Logan. It is going to take me awhile to get through it all, but I am dealing with it in the best way that I know how. You see, sharing my humor with you all does help heal me. I realize I have a family here; people who actually care about me, and it makes me feel good knowing that I have the ability to make others feel good too. I feel like everyone here brings something to the table, and just having that type of support means the world to me. I can't even imagine what I'd be like if I was out on my own." 

A soft smile came to Morph's face as his mind wandered back. 

"I'll never forget how you did everything in your power to try to get me back on the team, even when you didn't succeed right away. I owe you a lot and believe me I'd never consider you not being worth my time. You have to know you deserve that and more."

"To be honest I don't think I ever deserve anything worthwhile," Logan took it all in and after a few moments of silence he finally nodded, "But ok, I believe ya. Just promise me ya won't take on more than ya can handle. It ain't fair to do that to ya."

"Now it's my turn to tell you not to worry about me so much," Morph grinned and punched him on the shoulder with no effect, "I know I've had my weak moments and even some breakdowns, but I promise you that I'm managing just fine for now. The best medicine I have is being here with you....and the rest of the team. Trust me."

"Yer one o' the few that I do in this whole world, bub. I don't know if that means somethin' to ya, but it does to me."

"It really really does. Truly. I may be drunk, but I promise it's not the beer talking when I say that I love you. Anyways cheer up. This is supposed to be a fun evening, not a pity party," Morph put his arm around Logan's shoulder to give him a firm side hug, feeling his tense muscles relax considerably.

"Sorry. I really am a piece o' work, in case ya haven't noticed. Didn't mean to bring down the mood."

"You're forgiven, but I have to warn you that if you don't smile soon then I may have to do something drastic. I'll have you know that it's always worth my time to hold you down and tickle you until you can't think straight," Morph added, pleased to see it made Logan snort a laugh before he hastily moved away from the other.

"I'm pretty sure that goes against the Geneva Convention, but whatever ya dumbass."

"You know I'm kind of thinking about doing it anyways since you didn't reciprocate my proclamation of love for you," Morph tilted his head and raised a teasing brow as Logan backed further away while shaking his head.

"That ain't necessary. I do love ya, buddy. Yer part o' the family, an' the team's just not the same without ya. Now quit threatenin' me an' just stay away on my next shot here, okay? Hands offa me."

"Alright alright, I won't do anything," Morph made his arms get sucked inside his body, grinning when he saw Logan let out another chuckle, "Oh but first..."

Morph's arm reappeared as he scurried to the nearby radio to turn on the popular music station, the sound of Freak Nasty's "Da Dip" coming out of the speakers.

"Now lets get this party back on track!" Morph declared as he began swaying his hips in place and moving his arms around in flowing patterns, allowing the beat to take over his body.

Logan tried to hold back his amused smirk as he watched.

"Will ya cut that out? Yer ridiculous." 

Morph turned around and made eye contact as he smiled mischievously and started dancing and scooting his way across the room towards his quarry while he sang along to the song.

"I put my hand upon your hip, When I dip, you dip, we dip, You put your hand upon my hip, When you dip, I dip, we dip..."

While belting out the chorus Morph placed his hand on Logan's side as he grabbed at Logan's hand and tried to place it on his own hip with the man struggling to fight him off the whole time.

"Get the hell offa me," Logan laughed at the silliness of his friend as he slapped at his busy hands and pushed back against him, "If ya think yer gonna get me dancin' then yer dead wrong. I haven't had that much to drink. Besides I need to take my turn at the game now."

Morph finally allowed himself to be pushed away as he put on a face of mock pout.

"Aw fine, you old party pooper. I'll let you off this one time, but next time you are gonna be shaking it with yours truly," he snapped his fingers and rocked his hips some more before straightening up and gesturing to the table, "Maybe you can remove that big stick from up your ass long enough to take your shot. Go ahead, I promise I won't touch you."

Logan rolled his eyes and flipped him off as he looked down again at the pool table. 

The only good shot he had was extremely close to the 8 ball so he would have to calculate this just right or he risked knocking it in. He picked up the chalk and rubbed it onto the tip of his cue stick before looking over at Morph, who stood innocently on the other side of the table against the wall, and then bent down to get into playing position.

The prospect of hitting in the 8 ball had him a little nervous, but after a few tense seconds he made his move. The cue ball went hurtling smoothly towards his striped ball before striking it where intended and sending it rolling down the table into the corner pocket.

Logan smirked and was about ready to gloat, but he failed to notice that the cue ball had just knicked the edge of the 8 ball and set it into motion as well. Morph's little gasp and excited pointing of his finger alerted him to it, though all he could do now was just watch and hope for a miracle.

He held his breath as the solid black ball ever so slowly rolled towards the center pocket before teetering on the edge of the lip........and then stopping. Logan released his breath, ready to start bragging again.

"An' that's how it's done," he managed to say just before the 8 ball finished its journey and fell into the pocket with a deafening clacking noise as it landed on the other balls.

It was quiet for a minute before Morph let out a whoop of triumph and punched at the air as he began bouncing around the room.

"I aaaam the chaaampion! I aaaam the chaaampion!" He sang as he obnoxiously danced around his grumpy teammate.

"Bullshit," Logan grumbled and then glared at Morph with accusation, "Ya bumped the table."

"I did not! Don't be a sore loser now. I believe you owe me some money," Morph grinned with a raised brow and held out his hand.

"Alright fine. Even though I'm sure ya knocked that 8 ball in somehow, I'll let ya have this one. What did we say? Ten bucks?"

"Yup, that was the wager," Morph nodded, watching Logan pull out his wallet before opening it with a shake of his head.

"Hmph, I'm a little short on cash right now. I'll have to get ya later."

"Hey no worries, I accept alternate forms of payment," Morph's smile widened while he eyed the bottle of whiskey set out nearby.

"Oh yeah? Think ya've had enough to drink already, pal," Logan smirked as he observed his friend swaying a little on his feet.

"Uh thanks for the advice, dad, but I'll say when I've had enough. I'm starting to lose my buzz here!" Morph made a poor attempt at grabbing the bottle away while Logan just smoothly moved it aside out of his reach.

"Nah, yer done. Yer worse than a teenage girl on prom night. Just as annoyin' too." 

"Ooooh I'm gonna tell Jubilee you said that."

"Well can't blame ya fer that. Ya girls gotta stick together, right?"

"You are just so insufferable, do you know that?" Morph smirked with his hand on his hip, making another grab for the bottle as Logan easily held him back with one hand and grinned.

"Thanks. Comes naturally."

"Aw come on, please? Just let me have one more drink and I'll consider your debt settled."

"I don't think so, bub. Trust me. Fer yer own good." 

Morph had to take pause because Logan's voice had lost its teasing tone and sounded more of genuine worry now. His eyes moved off of the whiskey bottle and looked up to Logan's face to find a look of concern spread over his usually intimidating features.

Despite how Logan normally wanted to portray himself the man certainly could be caught wearing his heart on his sleeves on more than one occasion. Morph felt a little guilt that he was causing his friend to worry about him again, even in such a small way. He certainly didn't want to ruin the mood again.

"Huh. Do you really think I've had too much?"

"Not yet, but I guarantee if ya have anymore you'll regret it. 'Sides it's not a good idea to start drinkin' the hard stuff after ya drank so much beer. Especially when it's like that sweet tastin' shit ya bought," Logan released his hold on him as Morph took a step back and crossed his arms with a joking pout.

"I wish I had your healing factor. Then I wouldn't be such a lightweight."

"It's a gift an' a curse, bub. Really I wouldn't wish it on anyone," Logan cast his eyes down and sighed as he momentarily picked up the whiskey bottle to screw the cap back on securely.

Dammit! He had stirred some gloom back into Logan's current train of thought. All he wanted was to keep the good times going for as long as possible, but he just kept digging the hole deeper every moment he opened his mouth. Time to just give in and admit being wrong.

"Okay okay, you're probably right. No more alcohol for me. I concede," Morph nodded as he bowed out with his hands up in defeat; happy to see Logan brighten up when he did.

"Glad yer comin' to yer senses. Tryin' to save ya from a bad hangover here, idiot."

"Aww my hero!" Morph momentarily sprouted feminine facial features and batted his big eyelashes as Logan sighed and rolled his eyes, "But hang on, you're not getting out of it that easy. You still owe me some kind of payment since I won the game."

"Well I don't have the money so tough shit. An' ya ain't gettin' this alcohol either so what're ya gonna do about it?" Logan smirked as he squared up his beefy shoulders and extended the claws on one fist in an attempt to intimidate his friend into backing down. 

Too bad that whole macho act never worked on Morph, but hearing his smug response definitely gave him some inspiration. He knew exactly just how he could collect some sort of payment and also take Wolverine's ego down a peg.

"Oh I'm not too concerned with either. I'm sure you'll pay me in some way very soon," the shapeshifter dismissed him with a hand before looking past and pointing behind him, "But hey, do you think that maybe Jean would like a drink?"

Logan was surprised because he hadn't detected Jean's scent anywhere near the room, but he still turned his head to look regardless and retracted his claws at the same time. The second he did that Morph plowed right into him like a linebacker and took him to the ground; pool stick clattering to the floor with the both of them.

"MORPH!! What the hell do ya think yer....?!?!"

"Bahaha! I knew you would fall for that! Change of plans, buddy boy! Loser can't pay then loser gets tickled!" Morph crowed with inebriated glee as he scribbled his fingers all over Logan's stomach with lightning speed.

Normally Logan could hold his own for a short while, but the alcohol in his bloodstream and the joking mood he had been in had all of his mental shields disabled, making him feel especially ticklish right now. Not even the thick flannel shirt he was wearing was dulling the sensations and the tickling had him cackling immediately.

"N-No! Daahahahahhahaa-Dohohohon't! Geheheheddoffamehehehehehe, ya stuhuhuhupid ahaahaahasshole!" Logan's left hand reflexively shot out, landing on Morph's face as he used it to try to push the other mutant off of him, but Morph only ducked under his reach and continued his vicious attack.

"Sorry, not happening. You can just keep your alcohol and your lousy ten bucks. Tickling you to death will do just fine," Morph's nimble fingers dug into his wide ribcage, tickling methodically between every rib for maximum effect. With that Logan's raspy laughter deepened as he desperately tried to crawl backwards with one arm while clumsily attempting to fend off his friend with the other.

"Mooooorph stahahahahahop! I wahahahas juhuhust try'na he-help yahahaha!"

"Do I look like I need help? Don't think so! The only one who needs help here is you. Except no one's coming to save you, mwahahahaha!" Morph laughed maniacally while drilling his fast-moving fingers into Logan's sides as the man's arms finally weakened and caved beneath him, collapsing onto his back in a heap of giggles.

Morph observed him fondly as the normally bad-tempered feral spastically twisted and squirmed helplessly while his big arms reflexively wrapped around his upper body in a last-ditch effort to protect himself, even though he knew it wasn't going to help him.

"Aw what's the matter, big guy? Is somebody just a little bit ticklish? Coochie coochie coo!"

"Shuhuhut uhuhuhup! Bwahahahahaah! I swehehehehear I'm gonnahahahahahaha guhuhuhuhuut yaaaa!"

"Yawn. Boring. Heard that one before. You really need to come up with some new material, you know? But if you're serious this time, go ahead and do it. I'll wait," Morph dared with a smirk as he eyed the deadly hands and waited for the claws to emerge. But Logan's hands only flailed around as they tried to guard and block Morph out of gaining access to his sensitive torso; failing quite miserably.

"Yeeeah, I thought as much. I know you'd never hurt me if you could help it. So you just lay there and take it like the big, scary, ticklish man that you are."

Logan cursed that Morph had called his bluff, but what did he expect? The shapeshifting mutant knew him better than pretty much anyone.

"Shihihiiit! C'moohahahahahon! Quit-hahahaha-Quit ticklin' mehehehee!"

"Sure I'll stop.....once you piss yourself," Morph quipped immediately as Logan attempted to growl through his laughter.

"I f-fuhuhuhuckin' hahahahahate yahahaha!"

"Now that's a lie if I ever heard one. Fine, say something nice about me and I'll think about letting you live," Morph proposed while Logan quickly replied without any hesitation.

"Okaahaahaay! Yer goohoohood at b-bein' a dihihihihick!"

"Hmmm, while that may be true that's not exactly a compliment. Try again. Here I'll even give you a moment to breath in good faith," he paused the tickle attack as Logan panted from below him

"....Alright fine....I'll admit, ya are a good lookin' guy. I mean seriously, ya got model potential."

Morph wasn't expecting to hear something like that, and he was immediately put on alert as his face twisted into suspicion of Logan's exact intentions. 

"Oh get out of here, you don't mean that. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm no Sean Connery."

"Sure I do. An' ya know what? If this X-men thing doesn't work out for ya, ya could always take a job workin' as a department store manneQUINAAHAHAHAHaaahahahahhahaha!" Wolverine exploded back into guffaws as Morph jumped on top of him and resumed tickling him even harder.

"Ok, I have to admit that was a good one. But it was also RUDE! You, mister, have just earned yourself a nonstop tickle session!"

"W-Wohohohohorth ihihihihitahahahahahahaahah!"

The banter between them was always constant, but they both understood that it was all in good fun and never took anything to the heart. Not to mention it gave Morph plenty of excuses to really wreck his friend.

"One more chance! Come on, just say one serious thing! You know you appreciate my humor and wit, especially when I'm making fun of the other guys! I'm super good at making you laugh! You've said so yourself!"

Logan was really in over his head with Morph being very familiar with all of his most ticklish spots, but he couldn't stop himself from continuing to tease and provoke the shapeshifting mutant.

"Nohohohot hahahard! Aaahahahahaha! Ye-Yer fahahahaace dohohoes that alohohohone!"

Morph just sighed and shook his head with a pitying smile.

"Keep talking, dummy. It's only gonna make it worse for you. Speaking of worse, lets really get those lungs of your working!" 

From where he sat perched on his legs, Morph used his long reach to bury his furiously fluttering fingers into Logan's very ticklish armpits as the big lug howled in deep, rumbling laughter with his arms futilely clamping down; Morph being able to physically contort and manipulate his fingers to keep them easily working around in the tight crevices.

"Noooohohohohoho! Dahahahammit! Haahahahahahahahahaha! Nohohot thehehehere! Ahahahahalright alrihihihihight! Ju-hahahahhahah-Just st-stohahahahop fer a sehehehehehecond!" 

He was pretty surprised when Morph actually stopped as requested.

"I'm allowing leniency despite my better judgement, so this had better be good. No funny business," Morph crossed his arms with a smirk, looking down from his seat on top of his friend, who took a moment to catch his breath before nodding and taking on a more serious tone.

"Okay....Okay....ya win. Ya know what yer good at, Morph? I ain't lyin' when I say that yer one of the best people I know. Yer good at always showin' up fer the team no matter what the odds. Ya may not be the biggest guy, but ya got the biggest heart. I know I can always count on ya to have my back in a fight. Yer good at makin' things seem brighter when everything else looks grim. Ya have the most positive outlook of anyone I've ever met despite the things ya been put through. An' yeah, yer a pretty funny guy an' ya really do know what to say to make me laugh. On top of all that yer a damn good friend. No one appreciates ya more than me," he finished, seeing the complete look of surprise on Morph's face.

"Logan I....wow, that was.....I wasn't expecting all of that. Did you really mean it?"

"Yeah, of course I did. Ya know me, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I'd go to the ends of the Earth fer ya, buddy," Logan's face was completely serious as he smiled up at him in the most genuine way, making Morph's heart melt.

"I know. You've proved that to me before, and I'll be forever grateful. I can't believe a blob of goo like me was lucky enough to land a friend like you," Morph reached out to put a gentle hand on his shoulder as Logan shook his head.

"No, I'm the lucky one, bub. Also worth mentionin' that yer one of the only people that can even come close to puttin' my mind in a more peaceful place, which ya know ain't easy," he joked, breaking the emotional tension as Morph barked a laugh.

"Hah! That I do know. You really are the most stubborn man I've ever met."

"But ya know what yer good at most of all, Morph? Somethin' yer untouchable at?"

Morph urged him on with his eyes, wondering what other compliments Logan could possibly throw at him, but as he watched his friend's soft smile turn into a smug grin he immediately knew something asshole-ish was about to leave his mouth. So much for that touching moment.

"Always makin' the worst jokes at the wrong times that just make the room so goddamn uncomfortable that ya could cut the tension with a-"

"YOU'RE DEAD!!" Morph declared and transformed into Spiral to give himself six arms as he took ultimate pleasure at seeing his friend's eyes widen in terror before all hands dispatched immediately to mercilessly tickle all over his ribs, stomach and under his arms.

The burly mutant instantly began laughing like crazy, unable to effectively defend against all the assaulting appendages at once and knowing he had completely screwed himself now.

"Mohohohohohohooorph nohohoho! Baahaahahhahahahahahaha! W-Wahaahaahaahaaaait! I tahahahake it bahaahaahaahaahaack!"

Morph temporarily transformed his face into Wolverine's to repeat his recent words.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he muttered in Logan's growly voice and then just as quickly resumed Spiral's appearance, "That is what you said, isn't it? So sorry to tell you that your request for a take-back is hereby DENIED!"

Morph went in on him hard now with hands even reaching back to tickle around Logan's knees and squeeze at his thighs as the heavily muscled mutant kicked and bucked and used whatever little energy he had left to try to defend himself. They both knew he was done for though.

"You know, you're not that smart. You could've easily used that whole brotherly love distraction to escape, but yet here you are. I should've known, you're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Morph then giggled with glee as he spotted a new opportunity. In all his thrashing about, Logan's button-down shirt had become untucked from his pants to expose a peek at his hairy, bare stomach.

"Ooooh now what have we here....?" Four of his hands immediately dove underneath the shirt to madly tickle the now vulnerable bare skin of Logan's upper body, causing him to let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal before resuming his chaotic laughter and undecipherable babbling.

Morph couldn't help but laugh at his explosive reaction, still finding it hard to believe that the gruff and tougher than nails Wolverine was so helplessly ticklish; his bulky arms clamping against his body as he futilely tried to stop the hellish movements of the hands inside his shirt.

"So this is how the great Wolverine dies....his big dumb mouth getting himself tickled to death. Hey, that'll look great on your headstone, don't you think? Hehe, c'mon now. Say uncle, ya big lug," Morph smirked as he gazed down at the state of his friend, "You know you're kinda cute when you look like this."

Logan was wheezing for air between harsh laughs as tears leaked out of his eyes, weakly wriggling on the floor and resigning himself to his fate. He desperately scrunched up his shoulders as teasing fingers reached in to scratch all over his thick neck and under his chin before easily finding the sensitive spots behind his ears.

He couldn't even throw out any more of his smart ass replies and joking insults because of how hard he was laughing from the thirty fingers assaulting so many of his weak spots; currently massacring his rock hard abs and muscular obliques.

Big muscles, healing factor, adamantium bones....all completely useless against the tickles.

Morph was always content to keep him laughing for as long as possible, though he left the ball in Logan's court and gave him plenty of opportunities to get himself out of it. Seldom did he ever seem to take it and would blame it on his strong will and stubbornness.

His whole life the man only knew mistreatment and pain of the highest levels, so Morph never wanted to be the reason for Logan to experience anything like that. He made it his mission to only provide him with good touches including hugs, comforting pats and caresses, roughhousing and wrestling matches, and of course playful tickling.

He admitted tickling could be seen as borderline torture, but if Morph had any inclination that Logan really found displeasure in being tickled then he'd never do it to him again. His claws coming out was usually a good indicator when the feral mutant wasn't happy with something.

But no, Logan would goad him on and continue making asshole comments, and even when directly threatened with the consequence he'd refuse to back down until he struck the right nerve in Morph that would end in his own ticklish demise. Then he'd make a show to resist and curse Morph out and eventually beg for it to stop, but Morph could tell he was never entirely serious about it. 

Still there were many times that Morph in fact would stop if he wasn't quite sure, but then some smart-mouthed words from Logan would pull him right back into it. Not that Morph minded this one bit. 

All in all, he was pretty certain that Logan just enjoyed being involved in some harmless physical contact with someone that he fully trusted; someone he knew would never purposely try to hurt him; someone he felt safe with.  That alone was the biggest, unspoken compliment that Logan could ever give him.

Of course Morph would never force Logan to admit any of that though if that's the way Logan preferred it. For now, he would just continue in his quest to drive the Canadian berserker berserk.

"Give up? Are you ready to be nice to your old pal, Morph?" The shapeshifter smirked, finding that poking and probing into Logan's navel could force squealing giggles out of him as his bigger hands frantically tried to push Morph's devilish digits away.

"Quit fighting it. Just let it happen. Hmm let's get these arms out of the way, shall we?"

Morph now used four of his hands to pry Logan's arms away from his body and pin them to the floor while the remaining two dove in for the kill. The fingers began tickling a particularly sensitive area around Logan's hips where the adonis belt dipped into his pants, renewing the man's energy to struggle as he flopped like a fish and howled in hysterics.

"AAAahaahahahahaha! Nohoho fahahahahaaair! Stop stop-Ahahahahahhaahaa!! Pleheeheeheeheease!! No mohohohohohohore!! I caaaahahahahahaha- I caahaan't tahahahahahake ihihihihit!!"

It had reached Morph's favorite part where Wolverine started begging for mercy. It was quite amusing to Morph that the thought to do so would never even cross the tough mutant's mind when under duress and suffering extreme pain through an enemy, but undergoing a ruthless, although good-natured, tickling could always break him in the end.

Morph knew this meant that he was just about tapped out, but that left no reason why he couldn't tease him just a little more. See if Logan managed to work up a second wind.

"I absolutely will if you can answer me this one question........Who's a silly ticklish Wolvie? Huh? C'moooon, you know the answer," he was reaching underneath to tickle the backside of his ribcage while Logan snorted and giggled uncontrollably, arching his back in desperate attempts at reprieve.

Still being the man that he was Logan couldn't resist taking one last stand against his playful tormentor, even though he knew he was going to instantly regret it.

"Fuhuhuhuhuhuck yoohoohoohoooou!!"

Logan was just so adorably predictable.

Morph let his fingers respond to that as they immediately launched into the deepest part of his armpits, sprouting a few extra fingers to leave no spot untickled and causing Logan to scream with laughter as he had no way to guard one of the most ticklish spots on his whole body with his arms restrained like they were.

"OHAHAHahahaahaha!! No no!! Nohohohot thahahahaat!! Bwaahahahahahahahahaa!! Shihihihihiiit!! I'm sahahahahahorry!! St-Staahahahahahhahahaap!! Pleeeeease stahahahahahap!!"

"Stop? Please? You're sorry? What happened to the tough guy a second ago? Hm? What happened to 'fuck you'?" Morph teased him mercilessly as his fingers continued to knead into the pit hollows and squeeze the ticklish muscles on the sides of his pecs, watching a few tears roll down the red face of the hysterically laughing Wolverine.

"Gaaahhahahahhahahahaha!! Pleeheeheeheeease!! Stahahap ticklin'!! Aahahahahahahahaa!! Yer kihihihihihi-killin' meheheheheheehee!! I give up!! I give uhuhuhuhup! "

With that Morph smiled in satisfaction as his fingers finally pulled away and he released his hold on Logan's arms, transforming from Spiral back into his normal form. He'd love to just tickle him all day if Logan would let him, but when the man had had enough, he'd had enough, and Morph respected that.

Logan just laid there with his eyes closed and his head lolled back as he heavily panted for air, though still with a big grin stuck on his face.

"....Fuck......Am I....dead?"

"Nah sorry, you're not getting away from me that easily. But I'm pleased to inform you that your debt is now paid, loser," Morph grinned and reached down to pat his face gently on the cheek as he climbed off of him and sat to the side to watch him start to get his breath back. 

After a few long moments the bigger man slowly regained his energy and hauled the upper half of his hefty body into a sitting position, tugging his shirt back down from where it had bunched up under his chest.

"Shit, that was a helluva debt. Think after that ordeal I'm paid up fer the next several decades."

"Pffft! Yeah, you wish," Morph snorted as he stood up and reached a hand out to help Logan off the floor, letting Logan's hand rest on his shoulder to help steady his legs, "You alright there, buddy?"

"M'fine. Could definitely use a drink though," he smirked and playfully pushed Morph aside as he went straight for the whiskey, not even bothering with a glass as he drank a few gulps right from the bottle and felt his nerves start to relax a little.

"Go on. Drink up, big guy. Gotta get you ready for round two," Morph undeniably teased as Logan almost choked on the alcohol, letting out a cough as he glared over at the other mutant through a side eye.

"Next time I'm just gonna let ya drink whatever ya want an' let ya deal with the damn hangover," Logan grumbled as he lifted a meaty hand to wipe the drying tears off of his cheeks

"Now you're learning. I don't expect you to protect me from everything, you know? Sometimes I just have to face the consequences of my own actions."

"I can't help it, it's an unavoidable instinct. I just....," Logan sighed, "I'd never want anything bad to happen to ya ever again Morph, if I can prevent it. Even somethin' so small. Sorry, I don't mean to meddle so much."

Morph frowned a little that he said something that was making Logan's mood start to dip again.

"No no, you weren't so stop apologizing. I'm very grateful and appreciative that you would go out of your way to look out for me. You're the only one in my life who's ever done that and it's not something I take for granted."

"Yeah, well fer the record I really meant everything I said earlier. Yer my best friend an' ya mean a lot to me. Ya've helped me out in more ways than you'll ever know," his smile returned as he put the bottle down and looked back up at Morph with warm eyes.

"Thanks Logan. And I hope that me getting you to laugh all the time counts for some of that. I know you've got a lot of heavy things on your mind and it makes me feel good to be able to pull you out of that once in a while. Making you laugh always seems to put you in a better mood anyways," Morph smiled back, not expecting Logan to admit to any of that, but surprised when he did.

"Hmph, guess it does. I mean, when ya tickle me like that it completely overwhelms my mind to where I'm just focused on the current situation an' it's honestly hard to think about anything else. Which I guess what yer sayin' is the whole point?"

"Yup, exactly. It just drives all your bad thoughts away for the time being. Just consider me your personal therapist and do not question my remedies," Morph crossed his arms over his chest with a smug look as Logan just shook his head.

"Wasn't. Just wonderin' what goes on in that head o' yers sometimes. I'll admit it does make me feel pretty euphoric after it's all said an' done. My head feels high as a kite right now."

"That's because laughing is good for you! By the way, has anyone ever told you that you have the best laugh ever?" Morph asked with a giddy smile that Logan didn't seem to notice as he snorted and used a hand to dismiss his words.

"Aw cut that out. No need to drive the knife deeper. Besides not many people get me laughin' the way ya do so they wouldn't know."

"Well that's their loss. It's really a good look for you. I love when you smile," Morph threw his arms around him to give him a bear hug as Logan sighed in resignation and softly patted his arm.

"Still gettin' used to it. An' the torture method.....I'm sorry....yer therapy that ya use to get it outta me. Think ya almost broke my healin' factor with that last round," Logan shook his head with a smirk; the nerves below his skin still tingling from the overstimulation.

"Wellllll you did kind of ask for it. I would've stopped a lot sooner if you weren't being such an ass. I don't know if you know this, but you're quite the arrogant bastard. The biggest I've ever met, for the record."

Logan chuckled heartily at his comment.

"Yeah, I'm very aware of that. Not somethin' I can just turn off unfortunately."

"Oh no, please don't ever change. It's always a good excuse for me to tickle you crazy. I haven't heard you beg like that since that one time you thought you were being funny by putting your feet on my lap when we were on the couch watching the hockey game. Kurt was there too, remember?" Morph smiled big time with the memory playing through his mind as Logan squirmed in place at the thought.

"Believe me, I learned my lesson from that one. I'm surprised I'm still alive after what the two o' ya did to me," he shuddered as he remembered the incident.

Unluckily for Logan, Kurt also loved to partake in his ticklish weakness, and he did not hesitate one second to join in on the attack on his good friend as his three-fingered hands and prehensile tail attacked Logan's upper body, using his teleportation to get at him from all angles. 

Meanwhile Morph had decided it would be fun to transform into Nightcrawler as well, giving him the extra tail appendage to tickle between Logan's sensitive toes with the velvety tip while his fingers went to town on his bare soles.

"You have to admit it was pretty funny when Ororo, Jubilee and Rogue all heard your screaming and burst into the room because they thought you were being murdered," Morph giggled as Logan scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, that's kinda what I would call it," he growled sheepishly as his toes cringed inside his boots, "Just dealin' with one of ya is more than I can handle. But the both o' ya at the same time? Yeah, that's pretty much attempted murder."

"Shut up, you liked it. So feel free to put those big stompers of yours in my lap any time you want," the shapeshifter gave him a wink as Logan just returned it with a blank face and a raised eyebrow.

"Pass."

"Aww c'mooon, not even for a little massaaaage?" Morph teased as he moved behind the shorter man and rubbed his shoulders before being shrugged off.

"Just fuck off, would ya?"

"Okay okay, no need to get testy. I'm really good at it though, just for the record. I've got plenty of references to back me up," he cracked his fingers and wiggled them up in the air with a cheesy smile.

"I'll keep it in mind," Logan couldn't help the smirk that came over his face as then he looked up at the clock mounted on the wall, "Hmph only 11:20pm, still early. Unless yer ready to call it a night."

"Not yet I'm still feeling pretty awake. I'm more of a night owl these days so I'll be glad to keep you company for a while longer. If you don't mind, that is," Morph added, making Logan glance back over at him questionably.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know. I feel like sometimes I annoy you too much and maybe you'd want some space from me," the shapeshifter answered, feeling a bit insecure as he crossed his arms in front of himself.

"Course yer annoyin'. Yer loud an' ya never stop talkin'. Ya drive me nuts with all yer crazy antics," Logan said matter of factly as Morph felt a tightness in his chest and looked down at the floor in shame until Logan continued with a gentler tone, "But that's on me, not you. Sometimes I just get a lil' bent outta shape too easily so don't take it personal. I'm just a grumpy old prick. If anything, I'd feel like yer the one who would want space away from me."

Morph immediately brightened back up, lifting his head as his frown turned into a soft smile.

"Just know yer great, Morph. Yer always goin' outta yer way to make people happy, even someone like me who doesn't deserve it. You'll never not be welcome to share in my prescence."

"Thanks for telling me that Logan. And for the record no, I'd never need space from you. No matter how much of an insufferable prick you can be."

Logan laughed loudly as he clapped a large hand onto Morph's shoulder and shook him a little.

"Appreciate it, bub. So ya wanna play another game or what?" He asked as he started pulling the pool balls out of the pockets and placing them back onto the table.

"Yeah sure, why not. But we're not going to bet anything this time, right? You obviously don't have any money to put up so unless you want me to tickle the shit out of you again, I'd say you're all out of bargaining chips, buddy," Morph crossed his arms with a holier than thou grin, watching Logan down the remainder of the whiskey.

"Tell ya what bub, if I lose again how 'bout I let ya give me that foot massage?"

Morph smirked at him, leaning against the pool table on one hand.

"Oh is that so? And what makes you think that's what I'd want as my prize?"

Logan just shrugged his shoulders as if he was unbothered by that and began setting up the pool balls.

"Alright suit yerself. Just forget it then."

"Now hold on, hold on. It was just a question. Hmmm but okay, it's a deal. No take backs. This is now a legally binding verbal contract," Morph momentarily transformed into a court judge and banged a gavel onto the table.

Logan chuckled as he finished getting all the balls into the triangular rack.

"Yer a crazy guy, Morph. If I win though yer buyin' me a new bottle....No....two more bottles o' booze," he declared and dangled the now empty whiskey jug in the air.

"Deal, but I don't plan on losing. But hey, it should be a win for you too. I bet with your heightened senses a massage feels extra good."

"I guess so, but I've never known it any other way so ya got yer work cut out fer ya. Let me at least get washed up first though, alright? I showered a lil' over an hour ago, but these boots have seen some miles," he looked down at his feet and rocked back on the heels.

"If you insist. But if you need any help in the shower, I'm always available. You know, if you're having any trouble getting those hard-to-reach areas...," Morph winked and nudged him suggestively, making Logan snort a laugh.

"Thanks, but I think I can manage. Oh an' hey, no cheatin' in this game this time around, okay? That means no bumpin' the table-"

"I told you I didn't bump the table!"

"Whatever. An' if ya tickle me even one time ya automatically forfeit the win. Got it?"

"Okay okay fine. Scout's honor," Morph held up his hand while sneaking his other hand over to give a quick dig into Logan's ribs as the man jumped with a yelp and then glared back at him.

"Dammit! What did I just-?!?!"

"Hehehe, that doesn't count. We didn't start the game yet," Morph snickered as Logan sighed and facepalmed before picking up his pool stick that was still on the floor from his earlier tussle with the shapeshifter.

"Ya know Morph, if I didn't love ya so much I'd kill ya."

"Awwww that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. You know option number two is that you could also just forfeit now and allow me to collect on my winnings," Morph teased as he draped arms over Logan's shoulder and squeezed his bicep, making Logan shake his head and squirm out of his embrace.

"Nice try bub, but Wolverine forfeits to no one. Now stand back. Maybe you'll learn somethin'," Logan leaned over the table, getting his stick into position as he got ready to break. 

He smirked knowing he was going to sandbag it and allow Morph to win again. Like he did earlier when he himself had unnoticeably bumped the table so the 8 ball fell in. Let Morph win just like he always did.

Just as Morph always wanted to keep him happy, he also wanted the same for his friend and more. To let him know that he always had someone rooting for him in his corner and actually gave a damn about his well-being. He'd do whatever it takes to keep his spirits high, even if it came at his own expense.

He knew Morph would be true to his word and give him an amazing massage, which was hard to come by these days, and Logan would relish in every bit of it. Even when it inevitably turned into tickling because he knew Morph wouldn't be able to resist himself with the knowledge that Logan's feet were easily his most ticklish spot.

Logan would of course play his part fully, protesting profusely and laughing his ass off all to Morph's delight while doing his best to not accidentally kick his teeth in with a flailing foot. Though he shivered a little knowing that Morph was more than capable of restraining him and then he'd just have to take it. Though in a weird way he found that he wasn't exactly bothered by the thought of that.

Thinking about it took him out of his game and unable to fully focus as he jabbed the cue ball to break, and while the balls all scattered over the table not one of them went into a pocket. He forced a grumpy face for show as he looked over at his grinning friend.

"Looks like it's going to be an early night. You know you can just skip the shower. I don't mind your musk."

Logan couldn't deny that a massage sounded better sooner than later.

"Well if ya really don't mind....," Logan gave the table a firm bump with his hip, making all the pool balls including the 8 ball fall into the pockets as he shrugged his shoulders while Morph looked at him with a knowing smile, "Damn. Guess I lose again."

"Nah, like I said you're still winning. Tell you what, I'll still even buy you another couple bottles of whiskey after this," Morph promised as he walked to the other side of the room and sat on the end of the large couch placed against the wall, "Here should be good. Whenever you're ready."

Logan was a little hesitant walking over as Morph made a big display of stretching and cracking his fingers before patting his lap. He sat down on the couch and then turned his body sideways, lifting his legs to drop his heavy boots onto Morph's thighs as the other mutant teasingly ran a hand over the top of them.

"Hm. Big feet, huh? You know what they say about that," Morph laughed at his implication, making Logan's mouth twitch into a smirk.

"Nah, what do they say Kevin?" He asked in a teasing tone, making Morph pause with a blush tinting at his cheeks as he was caught off guard by Logan's response and the use of his chosen name.

"W-Well you know.....big feet big.....boots. What were you thinking?! Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, your pervert!"

Logan chuckled at how easily flustered Morph was as he leaned back on the couch armrest.

"Takes one to know one, bub. Now get rubbin'."

"See comments like that are what get you in trouble. I'll make sure you pay for it later," Morph warned with a devious smile and then got to work, beginning the process of carefully pulling off his boots.

Logan just watched it happening in slow motion, wondering exactly how he let himself get talked into this. Actually, he did know how. And he found himself looking forward to the attention.

"Easy now. Be nice," Wolverine growled a little, the realization of knowing what he was getting into really setting in now.

"Aren't I always?" Morph smirked as he dropped each boot on the floor as they came off and then in a couple swift movements had tugged off Logan's socks as well

"So delusional," Logan shook his head as his now bare toes wiggled a little from the exposure, "At least try not to tickle."

"That's not the current plan and I promise I won't be trying to, but if it does happen then I'm sorry, but it's your fault for being so ticklish," he reached down and firmly squeezed both of Logan's wide, meaty soles as the older mutant rolled his head back and groaned from the touch, making Morph grin, "Looks like you might be okay though."

He began further testing as his fingers pressed in hard and slid down Logan's soft arches to begin kneading into his plump heels while Logan struggled to keep the sounds of pleasure from leaving his lips.

"Fuuuuck.....Damn Morph.....Ya weren't lyin'.....That feels.....fantastic...," he squirmed and moaned with his eyes closed; his reactions causing Morph to beam with pride.

"Like that, eh? I told you I was good," he began rubbing circles from his heels back up into the balls of his feet, finding the skin to be surprisingly supple, "Now answer me this, how does a guy like you have such soft feet?"

Logan just threw his hands up in a shrug as his mind became focused on the sensations though he ended up rumbling in disappointment when Morph's hands pulled away for the moment.

"Easy big boy, I promise there's more where that came from. And if you really enjoy this then perhaps later I could interest you in a full body session," Morph offered with a hopeful smirk and a raised brow as Logan was quick to give a nod.

"Might actually take ya up on that. I haven't had a good massage in.....shit, I can't even remember."

"Well that's about to change right now. So without further ado let's get started off on the right foot here," Morph put his hand on the top of Logan's right foot and laughed at his own pun as Logan made a point to roll his eyes harder than usual.

"Geez, tough crowd. Come on, that was funny," he grinned slyly as his fingers now drifted around to give the sole of his foot a quick tickle.

"AHAH!" Logan barked out a laugh and jerked his foot away before delivering a warning glare and reluctantly placing his foot back onto Morph's lap, "Fucker."

"Hey I had to get at least one in. Now I'm going to keep it professional. If I accidentally do tickle you then just tell me and make sure to keep still. Though I'm going to warn you right now, if you kick me at any point then the massage is over and it's game on. So please give me a reason," Morph teased as he rubbed his hands together and prepared to really get serious.

Logan quietly considered the threat, and while he was looking forward to the massage, he also couldn't resist his urge to live life dangerously. And hell, maybe he was also a bit of a masochist sometimes.

While Morph was prepping, Logan pulled his foot back a little and aimed it right at Morph's stomach before thrusting it forward.

Morph got the wind knocked out of him ever so slightly as he coughed and grabbed the offending foot to push it back. He then squinted evilly back at Logan who had a shit-eating grin on his face while he sat there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Whoops. Must've slipped."

Morph sighed, thinking he probably deserved it for sneaking in that tickle, and released his hold on his foot.

"Fine. You get one freebie. But do it again and I promise you you're going to be wishing so hard that you could take it back once you see how bad you're going to get it because I'm not stopping until the sun comes up and by the looks of that clock on the wall it's going to be several hours before that comes even close to-UGGH!" Morph grunted as the foot collided with his stomach again.

"Quit babblin' an' just do it, pussy," Logan smirked, the words no sooner leaving his lips before tendrils shot out of Morph's body and tightly wrapped around his ankles to keep him from ever having any chance at pulling his feet away until Morph decided he was allowed to.

And Logan wouldn't have it any other way.

[uselesssomebody]

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕣 - cedric diggory x reader

complete masterlist | harry potter masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || week to all hallows' eve

summary || in which the reader and cedric's friends like to play matchmaker

a/n || oh my god? more? but this time, it's part of a multifandom series! ➵ part of my 'week to hallows' eve' halloween countdown. check out the masterlist ^ ➵ i've never watched titanic; can you tell? ➵ i wrote this super late a night so please don't be mad if it is a little ass ➵ this was inspired by a convo with a friend but i realize that it is also veryyy similar to @creativepromptsforwriting halloween prompt (#418) & a audio on the g.w.a. subreddit so great minds think alike i.g. ➵ not yet proofread ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

her friends had been quite adamant about the outfit that she was currently wearing. it was a period-type: long dress, hair pinned up into a half up-do. it was supposed to be the character of rose from the titanic. the red, seemingly expensive, fabric of her dress wrapped around her figure snugly, and she couldn’t help but find herself gazing just a bit too long at her own reflection in the mirror.

“move your hair out ‘f your face, hon.” she turned to look at her good friend, mavis williams, who was currently giddy at the thought of painting her friend’s face. she complied, pushing the straggling locks of hair on her face behind her ears. she tries to sit as still as possible as mavie attempted to place the light dust of blush on her cheeks and accentuated her eyes just slightly by adding a swipe of eyeliner to each. she marveled at her friend’s ability, knowing that she would have used much more time to complete the same task to the level at which her friend could.

after she was done, she stood up to smooth the wrinkles in her dress, grasping on the necklace at the vanity while mavie went on to do her own makeup - having dressed as cher from their collective favorite movie: clueless.

dottie had left about a half-hour ago to meet up with her ravenclaw friends, and martha had just left to go find her boyfriend. on the other hand, mavie and herself would meet with mavie’s hufflepuff boyfriend, and all three of them would head down to the gryffindor common room, where fred and george, with the help of angelina johnson, had organized a halloween party - advertised as transcending house boundaries, cause no one should be able to recognize anyone anyways.

she was excited to go, not seeing her own friends outside of classes that much and now finally getting a chance. she also did love the weasleys’ parties, a common sentiment shared through the school.

she watched as mavie finished up her own outfit, popping the signature stick of gum in her mouth, before - as if on cue - they both heard a knock at the door. mavie rises up, a smile she tries to suppress still beaming over her cheeks, as she opened the door and greeted her boyfriend. well, she says greeted - the girl pulled him into a jovial kiss almost immediately, having not been able to spend much time with him over the past few weeks. after the show, she joined the cute couple, and nodded at her friend’s boyfriend. he’s quick to greet her, friendly smile ever-present on his face.

“hey, connor! josh, right?” she refers to cher’s love interest in the movie, pointing at his boring-for-anyone-else outfit. truly, it didn’t work without the appearance of his girlfriend, but it didn’t really seem like the two of them would separate for much time tonight anyways.

as soon as they near the stairs, they can already hear the heavy bustling and chatter standard of a weasley party, seeing the common room flooded with people in all sorts of costumes as they ventured down. many were the standard: zombies, vampires, werewolves. there were a few fairies, elves and the like. then, there was an assortment of movie and tv characters. she glanced around for her friends, immediately finding dottie - who was in a white shirt and tight corset - with her ravenclaw friends, emulating a team of bloodthirsty pirates. martha went to greet her, with her boyfriend in tow, and she marveled at the cute outfit: baby and johnny from dirty dancing.

her friends were all talking amongst themselves, being shockingly distant to her and, for the life of her, she couldn’t tell why. deciding to ignore it, she broke away to go find the refreshments counter - a butterbeer had never sounded better. she filled a glass with the stuff - the sweet drink having been infused with something slightly more potent to really make this a party, and she absentmindedly glanced at who else was attending.

well, she says absentmindedly, but, truly, she’s looking for one person: cedric diggory. see, the girl had had an almost embarrassing crush on the boy for some time now, and the only people who knew that were her dorm-mates and close friends. half the reason she’d come to this party was because mavie had heard that he’d be here and, as pitiful as it was, she was really excited to see him.

“’lright there?” she’s broken out of her thoughts by a loud voice - voices. in the blink of an eye, she’s surrounded by hogwart’s double trouble, and fred and george both have somewhat expectant looks on their faces.

“hmm? yeah, yeah, i’m great! ‘t’s a nice party.” she nods back at them, plastering a smile to make it look like she was more tuned in to their conversation that she actually was.

“how come you sound surprised? all our parties are nice -” started fred, but george was quick to cut to the chase, knowing they had other guests to talk to (see: bother).

“we just wanted to say that you’ve got a cute outfit. pretty original of a couple this year, y’know? most of these other ones are pretty similar.” she’s nodding along, but, suddenly processing what they said, she’s a bit confused.

“couple? wait, what?” fred and george look at her for a moment, before looking at each other.

“uh, jack? like jack & rose?”

“yeah, we tend to zone out when dad puts muggle movies on but even we know that one.” then, suddenly fred smacks his brother’s shoulder.

“oh, george, she’s just messing with us,” if there was one thing the weasleys hated, it was getting beat at their own game of sarcasm, “good one, but you won’t pull fast one over good ol’ freddie that easily.” he laughs at his own comment, before him and his brother waved her off. except, the issue was that she truly had no idea what they were talking about. of course, she was well aware of the implication of jack when she was rose, but it was fairly obvious that she had come alone, right? and that jack, in fact, was not here with her?

she figured that the boys had just been messing with her, deciding to gulp down the rest of her butterbeer and make her way back to dottie. she was struggling with clipping on her corset as she spoke with a friend, so she went up behind her and helped her out.

“hey, dot.” she mumbles, and she tightens the clasp. her friend gives her a sweet smile of gratitude. suddenly, dot’s friend gasps and looks at her.

“oh my god, your guys’ costumes are so cute!” she smiles back at the friend, a little confused by her way of speaking but grateful nonetheless.

“yeah, haha, thanks. mavie really helped me out and, honestly, dot looks like she’s really gone all out for this -”

“oh, no, not dot!” the friend’s quick to clarify, “i mean the handsome jack to your beautiful rose.” she sent a playful wink to her confused face and, when she turns to look at dottie, she sees her suppressing a smile.

“dot? dot, what did you do?” she hisses to her friend, and all she does in response is shake her head.

“ask mavie and connor, it was their idea!”

“what was?” dot just shrugged. a little exasperated now, she left and set off on the quest to find mavis, infinitely more confused now than she was before.

as she weaved her way through the groups of people, she found herself looking back to apologize to someone whose toes she'd stepped on, prompting her to walk right into someone. they grasp at her biceps to steady her, a polite litany of apologies already leaving their mouth. as soon as she hears them speak, she recognizes them, hoping her ears haven’t gone too red.

“it’s - um, cedric, you’re fine. it was my fault, i wasn’t looking-” as she glances down to look at his own outfit, she stops. he does the same. for a moment, they’re both examining the other, the gears in their heads clicking into place with each second.

“connor…”

“i’m gonna kill mavie.” they both mutter the names of their traitors, before cedric looks up at her, and laughs lightly.

“god, i’m so sorry, this must be so awkward.” she immediately goes to shake her head, laughing as well.

“no! it’s not awkward. just…oh, mavie’s always been a bit extra about things like this.” she mumbles, trying to find a way to diffuse the situation. luckily, cedric’s much better at that then she is as, after taking a half-step back, he daintily grabs her hand in his and presses it lightly to his lips.

“rose.” he says it with affection, and she blinks, having to remind herself that it’s for the sake of the bit.

“jack.” she curtsies lightly in response, hoping the low light covers her blush.

“i was just about to get myself a drink, would you like one?” god, he’s such a damn gentleman, she thinks, before shaking her head.

“i’ve already had one, but i’ll go with you, if you don’t mind?” there’s the faintest hint of desperation in her voice, and she’s just hoping to god he doesn’t pick it up.

“that’d be lovely.” he holds his arm out for her, and she takes it delicately, knowing anything more would come off as too intimate. he’s really playing into the bit.

after getting himself a drink, they find seats near the edge of the room, the place slightly more reclusive and giving themselves an environment to talk.

“how’s your night been so far?” he asks conversationally. she sighs in faux exasperation.

“it’s felt pretty orchestrated, to be completely honest,” he laughs, and she does too, “y’know, mavie’s always trying to play matchmaker, but i usually figure out her ploys ahead of time.” he nods in agreeance.

“it’s the same with connor - he seems to be a bad influence on his girlfriend.” he says it in humor, with a fake accusatory tone.

“oh, i’m sure it’s the other way around.” there’s a beat of silence.

“we do make a cute couple.” he lingered on the word, before rephrasing, “a cute couple’s costume.” then, having noticed her face perk up at the first sentence and then again depress at the next, he attempts to hide a smile behind his glass, “i think we’d make a cute couple too.” she stares at him with narrow eyes for a moment.

“y’think so?” it’s a mumble, because she really, really hopes he isn’t playing games with her right now. he’s silent for a moment, before clearing his throat. his usual air of confidence had dwindled slightly, and she looked at him with big, questioning eyes.

“i’d - uh, i’d hope we make a cute couple.”

“you hope?” he laughs, before shaking his head and moving closer to her.

“i am trying to ask you out here. can ya, uh, help me out?” the last bit’s a joke, but she’s too busy processing his first sentence to notice.

“you - you want to ask me out?” she’s baffled, having assumed that all her previous affections towards him had been one-sided.

“i mean, if you’d let me. ever since connor introduced us, i thought you were just so sweet and i - uh - i guess i just didn’t have the courage before.” still in shock, she doesn’t answer for another moment, and he looks down at the ground, “i’m sorry, you can just say no, i didn’t -”

“no!” he deflated at the exclamation, ready to accept the rejection, before she shook her head, taking his hand, “no, i mean yes! i’d love to go out with you.” he looks confused, and it makes her laugh, “cedric, please. i would really enjoy going on a date with you.” he smiles, pressing another soft kiss to her hand.

“y’think we should tell them that this worked?” he said after a moment, in reference to mavie and connor. her eyes widened.

“oh, absolutely not!”

[black-arcana]

LACUNA COIL Enlists LAMB OF GOD's RANDY BLYTHE For New Single 'Hosting The Shadow'

Italian goth metallers LACUNA COIL have released a new single, "Hosting The Shadow". After their successful collaboration with Ash Costello of NEW YEARS DAY on previous single "In The Mean Time", the new track includes a guest appearance by Randy Blythe from LAMB OF GOD.

LACUNA COIL comments: "'Hosting The Shadow' is a trip through light and dark, where silence reveals its hidden secrets. Obscure moments can become occasions to evolve, to learn to master one's own shadow — which is crucial in order to prevail.

"Randy Blythe did an incredible job on this track. We absolutely adore his voice and his evil laugh! Our admiration for him is infinite and to have him as a guest on this song is a dream come true. Partnering with a friend you respect immensely, that also kicks ass on stages around the world: it doesn't get any better than this. We're looking forward to the day we can perform 'Hosting The Shadow' live together!"

Blythe adds: "I was super excited when LACUNA COIL asked me to sing on a song with them. Not only am I a big fan of their music, they are truly beautiful souls who have been like family to me for 20 years now. We've played shows together all over the world, and I've always wanted to jump onstage and sing with them. I can't wait until it actually happens with 'Hosting The Shadow'!"

This past June, LACUNA COIL announced the departure of guitarist Diego Cavallotti.

Cavallotti, who joined LACUNA COIL in 2016, initially as a fill-in guitarist following the exit of Marco "Maus" Biazzi, later said in a social media post that "this decision is not the result of my dissatisfaction or desire to explore new opportunities."

When LACUNA COIL announced Cavallotti's departure on June 17, the band wrote in a statement: "As we step into a new cycle, writing and recording our next album, we are parting ways with Diego 'DD' Cavallotti. We thank him for the many unforgettable moments shared over the years and wish him the best of luck in his future endeavours.

"All future live plans remain unchanged and the new songs are taking form, we can't wait to share them with our fans."

LACUNA COIL recently completed the "Ignite The Fire" U.S. tour with support from NEW YEARS DAY and OCEANS OF SLUMBER.

In April, LACUNA COIL released "In The Mean Time", featuring Costello. The song's title is a reference to the mean times the world is living in, as well as a reference to the state the band itself is in, between cycles.

In July 2023, LACUNA COIL released the official lyric video for a new track called "Never Dawn". For the song, the band partnered with CMON, the renowned board game publisher behind the popular game "Zombicide".

In a recent interview with Brazil's Sonoridades Inc., LACUNA COIL singer Cristina Scabbia spoke about the progress of the writing and recording sessions for the band's follow-up to 2019's "Black Anima" album. She said: "I can't really tell you a lot. I can tell you that we are progressing very fast. We are almost, like, 100… We completed, let's say, the demoing. We still have to record the rest of the songs, but we will soon — probably after the tour, after the [May 2024] North American tour. And if everything goes as projected, before the end of the year [it] will be released. And that's already a big news, because we always say, 'We don't know. Maybe.' … I absolutely love the songs. I'm part of the process. But I'm very pleased."

Asked if "Never Dawn" will be on the upcoming album, Cristina said: "I think it will be. I think it will be, 'cause it will make sense. And it also fits with the other songs — it really fits with the other songs. Many heavy songs."

LACUNA COIL has spent some of the last couple of years promoting "Comalies XX", the "deconstructed" and "transported" version of the band's third album, "Comalies".

"Comalies XX" was made available on October 14, 2022 via Century Media Records.

"Comalies" was originally released on October 29, 2002 through Century Media Records. The LP, which featured the band's breakthrough single "Heaven's A Lie", has reportedly gone on to sell over 300,000 copies in the United States alone.

Photo credit: Cunene

[cinemastyles-blog]

Can I Take You Somewhere?

Summary: Anon request on Wattpad - “could u do one where y/n is a virgin and it like takes place in highschool? and like harry is really gentle”

Warnings: fluffy SMUT18+, strong language, lots of caring gestures, praise talk, oral (f), gentle!harry, lots of fluff and fluffy smut

I wasn’t sure if it was meant as doing it in the high school, or Harry and y/n are high schoolers, so I wrote it as the second option. If you want the first option, let me know!

Master

FRAT BOY HARRY

“Hey Harry.” You smile as you sit down in the desk next to him, “Have a good weekend?”

He nods, “Yeah, for the most part.” He gives you a small smile and shifts around as his mates file in around him, “Wild party last night Styles!” Louis says as he flops down into the chair, “Crazy shit happened.”

Harry nods and glances over at you, giving you a look that you’re not sure how to take.

You look down at your desk and open your book, making yourself act like you don’t really care, but at the same time you do.

You care so badly because you’re in love with the boy who you aren’t even sure likes you back.

He acts so different when he’s around his friends, almost like he doesn’t want them to see the softer side of him.

“Alright class, take your seats.”

——

At the end of class, Harry gets up and grabs his books. He lays his hand on the corner of your desk. When he lifts it up there’s a note that you quickly snatch and shove into your sweatshirt pocket.

You gather your things and grab your bag before walking to your locker. You turn the dial, entering your three digit code before opening and throwing your belongings in with a loud slam.

You don’t even care. You’re worried about what the note said.

You rest your hands inside your locker as your fingers shake with excitement mixed with nervousness.

You smooth out the folded paper and your lips form into a smile as your eyes glide over the words.

Meet me out back at my bike after school.

You bite your lip, rereading over it again to make sure you’re brain isn’t tricking you.

Your stomach does a flip each time you read the word ‘bike’ because Harry on a motorcycle is to die for, and you have a feeling you’d be on the back of it after school.

——

Final bell rings and you’re up and out of your seat within seconds.

You go to your locker, throwing and keeping anything you don’t need into it. You play with the cuffs of your sweatshirt as you head towards the back lot.

You pushed the door open and a smile slowly forms on your lips as you spot Harry and make your way over to him.

“Hey. Got your note.” You look up at him.

He smirks, “Good, I was hoping you would.” He hands you his helmet, “Can I take you somewhere?” You take it in your hands and nod, “Sure.”

He swings his leg over his bike, kicking the kickstand up as he turns it on. You put the helmet on and he flips his hat around backwards and nods for you to get on.

You lay a hand on his waist and swing your leg over, situating yourself before wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Ready?” He looks over his shoulder at you.

“Ready.”

Harry starts moving the bike slowly, stopping until a car finally lets him go.

Harry is the only guy in school to have a motorcycle, which is partly why he’s considered one of the popular cool kids.

But you know him as something other than that. You know him as the gentle, likes to study and laugh at stupid stuff but super, super caring Harry.

He doesn’t show that side very much or just to anyone really.

——

At every red light, Harry would check to see if you’re still okay and rub your knee with his fingers as you waited for the light to change.

When it did, he would wait for you to tighten your arms before moving.

He pulls off onto a road and it’s just you, him, his bike and the road for a little while until he pulls off and stops the bike.

He taps your leg to get off and you comply, swinging your leg over and getting your balance before you take off the helmet and handing it to him.

He clips it and hands it on the handle bar. He extends his hand out and you take it, walking with him over to the single bench.

He sits down and you sit next to him. You gasp as you look out into the overlook, “This is beautiful.”

He smiles and admires how happy you look, “Yeah, I found this place a while back, kept thinking about taking you here.”

You look over at him, “Me?”

He nods, “Yes.” He presses his lips together and takes a deep breathe through his nose, “I brought you here so I can, um.”

Your stomach starts to flip and you bite your lip, “Harry.” You whisper lowly, “It’s okay.”

He smiles slightly and you can tell he’s a bit nervous, “I want to ask if.. you’ll think about being my girlfriend?”

You smile and nod, “I don’t have to think about that.”

He looks over at you and smiles, “Really?”

You nod, “Harry.. I have liked you for a while now..” you turn towards him, “I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

“I don’t treat you like anyone else. You’re special to me and I just-“ he blows air and laughs, “I just wasn’t sure when or if there was a right time.. so I just decided that today was the day.. that’s why I was short with you today.. I was nervous.”

You laugh slightly and move in towards him, “It’s okay.”

He lays his head on yours as you lay it on his shoulder and he takes your hand into his. You slowly turn your head to look up at him. He smiles and cups your cheek, bringing his lips down to yours.

You kiss a few times before it graduates into a slow make out.

You know what you wanted, and you can tell Harry wants the same thing.

He goes to pull you into his lap but you stop him, “Not here.” You whisper against his lips.

He nods, “Oh, alright.”

“No, I mean.” You look up at him, “Let’s go to your house. You said no one would be home for a few days right?” You bite your lip, hinting that you’re ready.

He nods and smirks, “Yeah, yeah I did say that.”

You stand up and hold your hand out, “Let’s go.”

——

You hop off of Harry’s bike and carry the helmet up to the door as you follow him. He unlocks the door and opens it, letting you walk in first.

“I love it here. It’s so nice and cozy.” You set the helmet down on the table and turn to look at him. He smiles, “Yeah, my mom likes to keep it that way. No wonder you guys get along so well.”

You laugh and shake your head.

Harry walks up to you, brushing hair from your face, “Hi.”

You smile and tilt your head into his hand, “Hi.”

He leans down and kisses you, gently pulling you closer to his body.

“Remember..” you say leaning back, “I haven’t done this before.”

He smiles and rubs your cheek with his thumb, “I’ll walk you through it.”

You smile and take his hand and walk with him as he leads you up the steps to his room.

You’ve been to Harry’s house multiple times before, you know his family every well. They’re always teasing about you two being a thing, but you guys weren’t sure if you both felt the same way, so neither of you bothered to talk about it.

He lays you down on the bed and lays beside you, laying his hand on your cheek, giving you a smile, “My beautiful girlfriend.”

You smile and bite your lip, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”

He leans in and kisses you. Your lips move with his in the most perfect way.

He pulls you over onto him so you’re straddling him, “Just grind your hips down, love.” His hands grasp firmly on your hips, pushing down.

You bite your lip and start to move your hips downward, gasping at how good the friction feels, “Oh, fuck.”

“Feel good?” Harry groans out.

You nod, “Y-yes.” You lay your hands on his chest, fisting his shirt as you grind down harder.

Harry watches you for a few minutes before sitting up and wrapping an arm around your waist, “Can we try something?”

You nod and watch as Harry moves down your body, sliding his hands up your legs to the button of your jeans.

You watch his hands as they swiftly undo and pull them down, tossing them aside as he leans in to kiss your skin.

He smirks and hooks his fingers in the band of your panties, “I want to eat you out.”

His words cause you belly to somersault, “Yes.”

He slides then down and gently pushes your legs open, biting his lip as he lays eyes on your pussy, “You’re so pretty.”

His words make you blush, “Thank you.”

He slides his hands up, placing his thumbs on either side and spreading your folds apart. Your breathing starts to get more rapid as you’re excited to feel his mouth on you.

He leans in, his tongue gently swipes up and down your folds a few times before his lips attach to your clit.

Your hand lays on the back of his head as you moan out, moving your hips as you indulge in the pleasure, “Harry.” You gasp out, “That feels so good.”

He hums against you, gripping your thighs, “You taste so good.”

You look down at him as he glances up at you before pushing his tongue into you. You let out a whine and arch your back. You eyes shut as your head falls back, “Fuck.”

You’ve touched yourself many times before, so you knew what it felt like when you were about to cum, and Harry had you there already.

“Fuck, fuck. Yes yes!” You call out and grip his hair, pulling as you cum around his tongue. You walks clench and unclench as you come down from your high.

He leans back, “How was that?”

You smirk and look up at him, “Why haven’t we done that before?”

He chuckles and takes off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He undoes his belt and your eyes fixate on his hands again.

You loved his hands.

He stands up to kick off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, “Are you ready?” You nod, “Yes.”

He walks to his dresser and grabs a condom before walking back over. He lays it on the bed next to your head, “Just to be safe.” He winks and moves his body to hover over yours.

He brushes hair off of your forehead and presses a kiss to it, “If it hurts too bad, just tell me. We’ll stop.”

“Okay.” You lay your hands on his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss. His hands travel up and down your body, under your shirt that you haven’t taken off yet.

“Can we get this off of you?” He asks in a whisper as he tugs on your shirt. You nod and sit up as he does and pull the thin fabric up over your head.

He smiles and shakes his head, “I will never get over how beautiful you are.”

You throw your shirt down and look back up at him with a smile. His hands slide up your sides and he pulls your bra straps off your shoulder to lean in and kiss where it laid.

You reach behind you and unclip it, sliding it off and throwing it with the other discarded clothes that lay on his bedroom floor.

He lays you back and pushes his boxers down. Your eyes move to his cock and back up to his eyes.

You were worried that it was going to hurt because of how big he looked.

He leans up, grabbing the small square packet and ripping it between his teeth. You watched as he pulled the rubber from it and took it down to put it around him.

He slid it on and looks up at you, “I know I said it already, but tell me if anything is wrong.” He run his hand through your hair and waits for you to give him the okay.

You nod and he grabs his cock, rubbing it against your wet folds before he gently and slowly starts to push in.

You gasp and tense up quickly. Harry stops and rests his forehead on yours, “Relax, baby. Try to relax.” He dips his head down and presses his lips to yours.

He feels you relax so he continues to push in. You whimper against his lips and squirm around, “Keep going.” You whisper quickly, “It’s okay.”

You wrap and arm around his neck and lay your other hand on his chest. He moves his hand up to your clit, gently rubbing circles onto it as he continues pushing in.

You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck.”

“Hurts?” Harry stops and looks at you.

You shake your head, “Feels more good than anything.”

He smiles slightly, “That’s good, baby.” He starts kissing you again as his fingers start rubbing your clit, “You feel so good already and I’m not even all the way in yet.”

You smile against his lips and moan as he gets more of his cock inside of you. He groans against your lips, “Shit. Almost there.”

You nod and whimper as you feel his cock in you fully. Your walls clench around him and he moans, “Fuck, y/n. You feel incredible.”

“M-move, please. Slowly.”

He leans up slightly, watching your face as he slowly pulls out. Your face crunches up and your eyes shut as you moan, “H-Harry, fuck.”

He bites his lip as he slides back in, listening to you moan, “Feel good?”

You open your eyes and look at him, “So good.”

He slowly pushes back in, moaning as you clench around him, “Fuck, baby.”

He slowly gets into a rhythm, slowly thrusting as he kisses you. You dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning into his mouth.

He lays his head on yours, “Doing so good baby.”

You’re a whimpering, moaning mess under him. You wrap a leg around his waist and arch your back up off the bed, “I feel so close.”

He nods, “Go ahead baby.”

Your eyes roll back and you lay your head back as he kisses down your neck. He leaves a trail of little bite marks up and down as he kisses across to the other side, “Cum for me, baby.”

You feel it coming as he pushes his cock deep into you. You gasp and cling to him as your orgasm rips through, “Fuck fu-“ you let out a long moan.

Harry leaves gentle kisses all over your face as he works you through your high, “You feel so good.” He whispers lowly, “Taking me so good.”

You moan and whimper at his words, closing your eyes as he covers you in kisses, “M’so close, love.”

You nod and turn your head to press your lips to his. He slides a hand down your body, hooking his fingers under your knee to hold your leg close to his body.

His hips rock slowly into yours as he moans against your lips. You wrap an arm around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

He kisses back your jaw line and buries his face into your neck, “Fuck.”

His moans are music to your ears. It fills a part of you that you didn’t know needed to be filled.

“Y/n.” He moans and you feel his cock twitch and empty into the condom that’s inside of you, “Fuck. Fuck.”

He gently pushes his hips against yours and rests there for a few moment, breathing heavy as you run your fingers through his hair.

He slowly pulls out and discards the rubber, “How was that?”

You sit up and smile, “Really great.”

He leans in and kisses you.

“Harry, sweetheart you home?” Anne calls from downstairs.

“Shit!” You both exclaim quietly and jump off the bed to quickly put your clothes back on, trying to be as quiet as possible.

——

Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!!

If you have any requests you can send them here

I do have about seven requests to get through so bare with me.

[completely-normal-about-trolls]

Beta Bonfire

Part 2 to Poppy's Secret Stash

@vacayisland

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

Poppy smiled and stared at the now half-empty bookshelf. Her and Branch had spent the better half of a day going through each scrapbook she had made, deciding if it was worthy to stay or if it should be thrown out. She had a large box full of books to burn, and another, smaller box full of books she wanted to keep. She planned on bringing them tonight to pass around the bonfire they were having. "Do you think we should bring some marshmallows or hot dogs?"

"I don't think so," Branch said, effortlessly picking up the heavier box. "Jd and Bruce said they were taking care of the food. We just need to bring the fuel."

"Alright." Poppy picked up the lighter box and led Branch out of the pod. They walked to the edge of Pop Village, where Viva was already waiting with Floyd.

"¡Hola hermana!" Viva called out. "Thanks for inviting me tonight! I'm super psyched to be here tonight! What are we doing again?"

"We're burning some of my old scrapbooks! One of my friends is coming tonight to burn some of hers, too," Poppy said, setting her box down. "It's just the ones that are badly written, or make the boys uncomfortable. The big box is getting burned, but this one-" She pointed to the box at her feet. "Is staying untouched. I just wanted to show you some of my fantast-amazing work."

"Ooooh! Is there one about Clay?" Viva asked with a bright smile. "Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!"

Poppy just giggled and tossed a book over to her. "Knock yourself out, Viva." Poppy and Branch got to work making a pile with books and sticks, trying to place everything just right to account for maximum airflow and a long burn time.

"Need some more scrapbooks?" Someone asked as they came closer.

Poppy turned around and smiled brightly. "DJ!" She ran over and hugged her before taking the box away. "It's been forever! How've you been?"

"Pretty good! Lex is so nice and caring, and I have never been to so many raves in my life before! I swear, every celebration of any kind, there's a rave! It's so cool!"

"I thought Techno Reef was underwater. How to breathe down there?" Branch asked as he put her books in the pile.

"Bubble helmet," Suki said simply. She smiled and sat down by Viva, laying back on her hands and basking in the glow of the sunset. "I did miss the sun, though. You don't get a lot of light down there."

"Very true..." Poppy and the other made small talk as they waited for the rest of their little group. DJ and Viva were quick to become friends, and spent most of the time looking over the scrapbooks that weren't supposed to be burned. Poppy was able to get Floyd to spill about Branch's childhood, about the dance rehearsals, family sing-a-longs, and the everyday life in between. Poppy was gushing and giggling, giving Branch many, many hugs while he just smiled and rolled his eyes.

Eventually, JD rolled up with other two brothers in tow and Rhonda a safe distance from the fire. "Hey! Who's the cutie with the headphones?" JD asked as he got closer.

"That's my friend, DJ Suki. She lives in Techno Reef with her boyfriend~" Poppy said with a giggle.

"Me and Trollex are keeping it casual right now, so no he is not my boyfriend~" DJ said, copying Poppy's tone at the end.

"I give it two more weeks before you become official," Poppy teased with a smile.

DJ just rolled her eyes and got back to the scrapbook she had.

▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎

A few hours had passed and the sun had set on Pop Village, leaving the little get-together illuminated only by the (very glittery and sparkle-y) bonfire. Poppy had been silent for a while, munching on raw s'mores ingredients while she wrote. Branch watched her carefully, noticing how her lips parted softly as she mumbled the words back to herself. Sometimes, she would scrunch up her nose and drag her eraser wildly across the page. Every once in a while, she would look up and bob her head side to side, as if she was trying to rattle the words out of her brain before going back to her writing.

"Whatcha got there, Popstar?" DJ eventually asked, breaking the Queen out of her trance.

"Oh, just working on some more fanfiction," Poppy commented before reaching for a marshmallow.

"No scrapbooks?" Branch asked with a little smile and eyebrow raise.

"Yeah. If we're gonna burn this again, it would be safe to avoid another glitter fire," she said, pointing to the bonfire as she got back to writing.

"Yeeeeaaah...." Bruce said, staring at the sparkles. "I don't think that's good for the environment...."

"Well... Let's just hope everything is ok until it isn't," Branch said simply.

"Anyway!" Viva exclaimed, trying to change the subjct off of ruining the environment. "Whatcha writing now?" She asked, trying to peek over her sister's shoulder. "Please tell me it's a sequel to Into the Brozone!"

"Hey, hey! No peeking!" Poppy giggled as she pushed her away. "It's just a first draft. But it's another book in The Dory's Pet series."

The brothers all gave an audible groan. "Seriously?" Clay asked. "How many have you written of those?"

"32!" Viva said confidently. "I counted them after I read them."

"33 if you include the one she threw out the window," DJ commented.

"How did you know about that?" Poppy asked.

"It hit me in the head," she said, pointing to the light purple bruise. "You need to watch where you're aiming."

"I wasn't really aiming anywhere...." Poppy mumbled. She felt a presence behind her and turned quickly, seeing Viva looking over her shoulder again to try and read her first draft. "I said no peeking!" She squealed, playfully smacking her and scooting away.

"Oh, c'mon! Just a little sneak peek?" Viva begged. "Just a little snippet. Please please please?"

"Alright, alright. It's just a first draft, so it's not the greatest," Poppy said as she sat upright. "Don't judge me." As everyone scooted just a little bit closer, leaning in to hear better, Poppy cleared her throat and began to read.

"The rain beat heavily against the window pane, a constant rhythm, a calming sound for all to hear. Which was interrupted by a hiss and a groan, followed by the clinking of metal.

"'Couldn't you be more careful?' Branch said, propping himself on his elbows to try and see what his nurse was doing. He was not-so-kindly shoved back down, forced to lie flat while she worked.

"'Be more careful?' Poppy asked. 'Like how you were careful when you got shot 12 times?' She said coldly, forcing another bullet out. She began to pour some rubbing alchohol on the wounds, ignoring his pained groans and hisses."

"Why am I the one who got shot?" Branch interrupted, faking a hurt look.

"Because you're the love interest," Poppy explained. "I can easily switch it to John Dory."

"Please no," JD said quickly.

Poppy gave him an evil smile and got back to reading. "She made quirk work of sewing up the wounds, tuning out his excuses. 'I don't care what you have to say! You need to be more careful! One of these days, I won't be around and you're gonna bleed out in an alley!' She stood up and threw the gloves away, hastily wiping her eyes.

"'I don't need you to care for me like damn child,' Branch growled, starting to wrap his torso with a bandage-"

"It's called gauze," Branch interrupted.

"¡Cállate!" Viva yelled.

"As I was saying..." Poppy said.

"'I don't need you to care for me like damn child,' Branch growled, starting to wrap his torso with a bandage. 'I can take care of myself.'"

"'Then why do you keep me around?' Poppy said shakily, trying to stave off her tears as she poured herself a glass of whiskey."

"You sure a little lady-" Clay said, trying to begin a joke.

"¡CÁLLATE!" Viva yelled. "Go on," she said as she turned her attention back to Poppy.

"'You know damn well why we keep you around,' Branch said, getting off the bed as he finished wrapping his torso."

"'Right. I'm just your consolation prize...' Poppy said. 'Just a stupid trophy to make you happy.' She drank the whole glass in one go, tears finally spilling over and falling down her cheeks."

"'You're not just a trophy-' Branch tried to say."

"'Then what am I?!' Poppy exclaimed. 'What am I to you?! Because every damn day, you and your brothers go out there, almost die, and I'm supposed to take care of you! Do you realize how hard it is?! Having to make sure the people I care about the most in this world don't die because of me?! Having to save your life every day?! Because it's hard, Branch!' Tears fell down like waterfalls, coating her cheeks as she screamed at him. 'It's hard trying to make sure you don't die because of me! So what am I, Branch? Am I just your nurse? Am I supposed to stop loving you with all my heart, soul, and being and just make sure you don't die?! Because I will! I will stop caring and just make sure you don't die...'"

"The room was silent, only filled with Poppy's shakey breath and thw rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain. Branch took a step closer, and Poppy took a step back. Soon, Branch had her up against the wall, boxing her in with his arms as he glared at her. 'You really think I don't care about you...?' He said softly, a hint of anger in his voice."

"Poppy could respond. She just stared up, her voice caught in her throat and too scared to speak."

The group fell silent, staring at Poppy with wide eyes. It was certianly odd to see such a happy troll like Poppy to be so...angry and full of rage, screaming those words with such passion. "You ok, Poppy?" DJ asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I'm good! This is just how I channel my anger." She smiled at her and set the book aside.

"You know, I think Mr. Dinkles is taking new clients, if you want therapy," Branch said.

"Nah, I'm good." She set her notebook aside and held up a bag. "Are you guys gonna finish these? Because if not then I'm eating them all and you can't stop me."

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

Cállate means "Shut up" in Spanish. I headcannon Viva being fluent in english and spanish

[thelesbianpoirot]

can you share some of those social anxiety strategies some tips&tricks perhaps

People's memory aren't that great. They can hardly recall the face of a perpetrator of a crime when it is vitally important, very few people will recall, what you look or sound like. So if you did something super embarrassing in front of a stranger/customer, you will just be anonymous woman to them, not Jessica Jones, age 22, from 21st street New York.

Practice what you are going to say. For my job, I got put on phones, I literally wrote down a script of most asked questions, and read it off, and then eventually I could adlib the rest. This works for most phone convos, like ordering things online or reporting a problem to the light/water company.

Be nice and polite to people, and they will be nice to you, especially if you fuck up, they will forgive the mistakes of a person who was kind to them, then someone who was standoffish. Social anxiety can be view as standoffish/rude, so try to always greet people, acknowledge people, say their names, even when you feel like you're bothering them, or you're trembling.

Go to places, theatre, restaurant, bar, ALONE, anxious people often like to rely on friends or family to interact with the world, just using people as a crutch, and start being people okay with yourself exist. Start by putting in headphones, but work your way up to eating a meal in silence, by yourself, in public.

Force yourself to interact with people in a controlled environment at first before branching out. Volunteer, join a club, go to event, something you are interested in. PICK a single place. One day a week you do to a book club or old folks home, or a bar, and strike up a conversation with ONE person on the bus. Just a minimum of one. That last three minutes or more. Throw up afterwards if you have to, but GRIT AND BEAR IT!

Admit to people you're anxious, "I never do stuff like this, i'm anxious, if I say something wrong please tell me."

STOP FOCUSING ON YOURSELF, anxiety is often the result of self absorption, it sounds mean, but for me, when I am feeling most anxious, I am worried about how I look, how I sound, and making myself an exception from others in my head, "Damn I sound stupider than everyone else." Humans are very predictable, you're more alike people than you are different, if you are scared, chances are the person you are interacting with might be too. You're two terrified mammals in an interaction trying to come out alive, you are not alone.

Dress comfortably and practically, if you are wearing anything that makes you feel physically uncomfortable and self conscious, it will cause anxiety in everything you do, if you're at work, don't overdo it with the accessories, you're there to collect a checque, not wow people. Create a uniform if you must, a generic comfortable things that are WORK CLOTHES, check your appearance once before you leave the house, and never again until you are home. Stop looking at yourself and just be.

You have to become methodical of interaction before it is natural. In my head, I had a step by step plan for approaching a stranger. 1. GREETING. (hey) 2. Asking how they are? (if someone I see frequently/coworker) 3. Compliment (That is a really nice watch/earring/anything non-physical) (italicized is option but nice) 4. The objective. ( Are you busy? I don't know how to work the fax machine, can you please show me). (Do you know where I can get lunch?) (I didn't understand that instruction) (Is that your blue honda in that parking spot, It's my spot, and I don't want to get in trouble by parking in someone else's). 5. Closer. (Thanks for all your help) (do you have any suggestions for me?) (I hope that is okay) (sorry for the trouble,) (I have to go, I have to (insert tasks) bye!) Soon or later you'll find yourself sounding more natural, but you must push through the cringe of robotic rehearsed conversations.

Ask yourself: Why am I scared? Why am I anxious when talking to my coworkers? Reason it out: - I am afraid of saying the wrong thing. - I am afraid they will laugh at me - I am afraid they will dislike me. Find the root of anxiety about various tasks. And tackle things at the root. I hated being laughed at because of bullying at school, and at home, I had to become okay with that. I didn't care if people didn't like me, but I did not want to be a joke, which made me realize I was taken myself too serious.

CBT - I am not a big fan of therapy, but I believe in CBT for anxiety, it is practical, and stuff you can do at home. You will find a lot of resources online. CBT anxiety worksheets, toolkit, self aids key words. https://psychcentral.com/anxiety/cbt-for-anxiety#cbt-worksheets

SELF HELP BOOKS: I also hate bullshit self help books, but I will admit, I read this book cover to cover:

How to Win Friends & Influence People (Dale Carnegie Books) Paperback – October 1, 1998

(it's an old book so you can find PDFs online) https://www.pdfdrive.com/

Set various missions with goals.

I have more advice in me, but I just got off a long shift and I am exhausted.

[an-aura-about-you]

it's lunchtime and I'm in the mood to see how far I can get into Handbook for Mortals because I've heard the next chapter is super long. but also idk how much of it will be worth summarizing. I know the big highlights, but let's see what we've got.

moving on to Chapter 7 part 1:

when we last left our hero Scheherazade gave the mean girls an embarrassing one liner that worked for no other reason than author fiat and Jackson is a simp.

now on to Chapter 7: Strength

-so in the last chapter Zade said it was nice to pretend she had friends, but this chapter starts with her and Riley being up in the catwalk and her telling us that he's become like a little brother to her. she hasn't given us any more time jumps, so it's possible she was just lying before and I had my pity spiral for the author for nothing.

-you know how sometimes a person says a saying all wrong? Riley just did that with, "Curiosity killed the cat." like it's cliche but there's a reason it's cliche, bro.

-Riley gives us the deets on why Mac has a rule about not dating performers: he was in love with one, they slept together, and she thought it was just a one night stand while he thought they were gonna be in a relationship. she decided to string him along and it really crushed him. idk, with the way Sarem wrote Mel in the previous chapter, I'm not sure I believe she did Mac that dirty.

-also her name was Clara Faust. goddamn I love that name. I wanna see her girlboss it up.

-Clara is also apparently so bad that "she makes Sofie look like Mother Theresa." amazing. I don't even have anything else to say about that.

-hmm interesting. Zade tells us she's never been in love before. liked people and had crushes, yes, but never love. that perks my lithromantic ears up, and I could actually really see that? but much like my acedar going off with Anastasia Steele, I doubt that's what the author intended.

-the gang is getting ready to leave for the day and Jackson asks Zade if she's going to see his band perform tomorrow night. this is when we get the sledgehammer to the face that Sarem actual wrote in real life honest to goodness band the Plain White T's in her book as Zade namedrops them here. only with her Jackson Rathbone proxy as the lead singer. like, it is so jarring to see real celebrities in this thing and this is not the only time we see it. this CAN be fun when done right, but it requires a light touch, a passing mention. I think my favorite way was in the Barbie movie when they talked about escaped Kens.

-"He had asked me this earlier when we were eating together in the Employee Dining Room, which we cleverly rever to as the 'EDR.'" if I had to read that line, so do you.

-ok this book just namedropped Leona Lewis and idk if this is telling or standard that the reason I know who she is (after doublechecking on wikipedia) is because I saw her in Mamma Mia ripoff jukebox musical Walking on Sunshine. (don't watch it. it's not good. just look for pictures of Annabel Scholey as Maddie.)

-Zade agrees to go to the show because why not she doesn't have anything else going on. I'm not even a Plain White T's fan but that does feel a little insulting. I know that's just how it is sometimes when you go see your friend's band perform but geez.

-the three music genres Zade drops while wondering what they play are alternative, Americana, and -hopefully not- metal. like, I'm not gonna say I venture out of my own little range of genres too frequently, but I know from experience that it's worth it to give every genre you encounter a try because there IS something good in every genre. also there are wide swaths of metal, genres within genres. there's a big difference between whatever Metallica's doing and Christopher Lee's Charlemagne.

-Jackson gives Zade a kiss goodbye on the cheek as they leave. move has been made. how will Mac counter?

-add another tally for the casually bigoted language as Tad felt cheated out of a kiss from Jackson and used a word derived from the g slur to express this.

-add another tally to Tad's "If I Wasn't A Married Man" counter as well.

-Mac gives Tad a "one-armed guy hug" and Zade gives Tad a "real hug." The Straights Are Not Okay.

-Mac invites Zade to go riding with him on their motorcycles, and she accepts. she also tells us she feels like she's being fought over. that, to me, tells me that Zade wants the same thing for herself from her relationships. she doesn't want Mac or Jackson because of who they are; she wants them because they want her. so I guess at least she's on even ground with this? she may want people as objects, but she also wants to be wanted the same way, so at least it's equal? but man, that is shallow.

-it starts raining on their ride, so they have to pull over and take shelter under an awning at a closed convenience store. the two huddle close, both thinking about the relationship we didn't get to see, and Mac straight up grabs Zade and kisses her. damn, chief.

-oh geez we're talking make out with tongue. (this is not where that line is btw. I intend to provide photographic evidence of that when I reach it.) which, ew, he was just smoking.

-well, I'll give Mac this: REO Speedwagon's a good band to listen to.

-they keep kissing for a while before we pretty much get a smash cut to the next day with Zade shopping at the mall. holy whiplash, Batman! put a pin in this because believe it or not we ARE going to come back to that scene. jesus, the chronological mess of this.

-Zade is at a girlie shop buying girlie things because she wants to look hot for Mac and Jackson. she's shopping by herself because she doesn't like girlie things and thus doesn't want to do this with other girls? the hypocrisy is something to be sure.

-she gets chatty with the clerk working there who, like all characters in a mary sue story, is sycophantic to the max, to the point that she asks Zade to come back and update her on how things go.

-you guys need to see this continuity error for yourselves:

"I settled on the second of the final two dresses she brought me, a tight-fitting dark blue option that hugged me in all the right places. She was right about it being made for my kind of shape. I had a fun brown leather jacket and heeled low-cut leather boots that would offset the black dress nicely..."

so I'm assuming the dress looks like this:

and with that I gotta get back to work!

[richmond-rex]

I was tagged by super talented @eve-to-adam! Thank you <3

How many works do you have on AO3? I've got 19 fics currently on ao3 (but I always think about deleting some of them so that number may go down).

What fandoms do you write for? Currently I only write historical RPF, but I've got two Still Star-Crossed stories on my profile as it stands. It was very fun to write them but the show wasn't renewed and eventually my passion ran out.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Draw Your SwordsBlooming (modern AU) We Sang of Roses (modern AU) A Royal BedJoy on Earth

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Though not always successful (I'm kind of a forgetful person, sorry!) I try to respond to comments because I like to acknowledge the person's effort in commenting. It's very easy to simply read and leave a like/kudos, but leaving a comment sometimes after you're still processing a story or when you're naturally very shy takes a bit more from you. So I like to acknowledge that.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably To love God is to love a sinner, but some stories have ambiguous endings such as The Relentless Weight and more recently, The Hour of the Wolf.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably my no-plot-only-fluff fic, White Christmas

Do you get hate on fics? Not frequently, thankfully, though that's probably because the readership I get is so small. I did once get a comment saying my story was too cheesy, and another one once berating me for describing Elizabeth of York as 'blonde' (a herald who witnessed her coronation described her hair as 'light yellow'; so please don’t tell me I’m wrong ♥)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do (though not frequently), which is considered controversial because I write about real (albeit historical) people. Sex is part of the human experience and it can tell us a lot about the characters and the relationships, so I try to feel less guilty about it. I also like to take smut as an exercising in writing: to test how far I can get in evoking a sensation without getting into more explicit territory is always a challenge.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? In terms of different fandoms? I don't remember ever doing that. I have mixed different eras, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not a fic per se, but once I did share an AU with @harritudur and another friend. It was very fun :D

What’s your all-time favourite ship? I do love to explore the relationship between Henry VII and Elizabeth because it was so unlikely to have happened in the first place, let alone succeed. I find it very touching! I do have other ships, though.

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? It's not a WIP that I have posted anywhere but I did start writing a oneshot that I wanted to dedicate to a friend about the relationship between Edward IV and George of Clarence! It did feature a few unexpected people too.

What are your writing strengths? Probably dialogue and themes. It's difficult to say, I pick my writing apart so much when I'm in the process of writing it, once I publish it's very hard for me to go back and confront myself. It all kind of turns into nebulous territory.

What are your writing weaknesses? Many, many things but scene transitions are probably at the top of the list! That's why my story chapters usually all take place in a single scene.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a bilingual person I find it important to portray this completely unique experience of mixing two languages as they come (if the character in question is multilingual). It's not a popular view, though I do think people should get more comfortable with not understanding word-by-word everything that ever comes across the page. The strangeness of being confronted with a language that you do not know is a part of a different kind of experience and it can only enrich your reading. Of course, all should be within reasonable limits: information that is essential to the overall story should be in the language the story is set in.

First fandom you wrote for? I think it was Star Wars but I can't remember if I actually published it anywhere. I was very very young lol

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Blooming has a very dear place in my heart, it was the first fic I actually felt like accomplishing myself in terms of achieving the characterisation I wanted for my characters and creating a narrative that made sense for their development.

I think most people have been tagged already, but I'm tagging @harritudur, @heartofstanding and anyone else who feels like joining in the fun! x

[netherworldpost]

It does appear that the Netherworld Post instagram is now back and visibility is fixed.

Thanks, entirely, to a Tumblr anon's comment who wrote in:

"when you go to your profile, tap on the three line icon in the top right corner, Settings and privacy, Creator tools and controls, Minimum age, do you have a minimum age set there? Right now your account is restricted to 16+, which won’t allow anyone not logged in to view it."

Then after a few hours of cache clearing, everything seems to be working as intended.

I spent over 40 hours trying to figure this out. Probably far more, I stopped clocking time at 40 hours because it got too depressing.

I remember specifically setting the profile at 16+ at some point in the past -- nothing of my content is age sensitive, but I don't have kids, none of my friends have kids, so I am personally ill prepared to say "this is appropriate" vs. "this is not."

I found no documentation from Meta, Facebook, Instagram, or any forum discussing this setting's shift of profile visibility.

None.

There is no language surrounding the front end, or back end, "This profile has been age-restricted."

None.

My account was never flagged for content. There IS a backend tool that says, "is my account flagged?" and it gave me the green light, "Not flagged!" and I kept hollering, "THEN WHY ISN'T IT SHOWING UP."

The language on the previously hidden, now visible, Netherworld Post instagram was the exact same when a profile is deleted, when a profile is blocked, and apparently when a user self selects age restriction thinking they are doing something handy for parents (be it a good idea or not).

Instagram and Meta do not have a help desk with live support, they do not offer email support -- except, between this starting to yesterday, they are now offering a $14.99/month premium service which has a help desk.

I tried various logging in, logging out, changing profile types, etc. in hoping that I would be clearing a cache on instagram's system.

Because. I repeat. There is either zero documentation as to what was happening. Or, there is, but it is so buried as to be unfindable, which is objectively the same thing from a user's perspective.

Facebook flagged me several times, "we think you are a bot trying to sign in" and sent various automated security protocols to verify. Which I did, and passed, not being a hacker, but instead being an increasingly frustrated system admin to a tiny company.

At one point text messages stopped coming in, which was another problem, now fixed.

This last point being why I have repeatedly said, "Get 2 factor authentication, specifically using an app or other device, not a text-message."

What this means:

Your password is 1 factor, an authorization code (via app or other method) is another. It says, "It's me, I have a second key!"

When you rely on text messages, you are relying on THEM to send YOU this second key to verify. When you use an app or other method, YOU generate the key.

This removes a potential hiccup in the "are you a hacker?" "i am not a hacker" stage.

My life and career began to shift in 2012 when I started focusing business on monsters, ghosts, stories, stationery, rambles, etc. away from web design and programming, then graphic design, then (vague gesture as my company did a lot).

This entire experience felt like I was going mad. I spent YEARS helping clients AVOID THIS SITUATION.

You get the picture.

Netherworld Post is on Instagram

I feel like email lists are safer + I like emails

One of the first products to launch in the store this autumn will be "How about a monthly zine of Netherworld Post news. Super, super cheap. Help keep the lights on, help keep up to date without being at the mercy of tech billionaires."

One of the blog posts that I'm working on between now and launch is how I built said zine. I'm running efficiency tests to make it as high quality, low cost, and fast-to-send as possible. The point being, "Run a small shop or blog or whatever? Here's a way you and your audience can keep in touch without algorithms and tech woes."

This is a lot of words.

It's been a mini-therapy session.

I'm hoping it helps someone somewhere with a similar issue.

I'm very grateful for someone who does not work for Meta to say, "Hm. I may know your problem."