#oh they also have an AU in my own universe! outside one piece

[brudrak]

[oc] The shark pirates have got in the news headline for the first time, this calls for a celebration!! ... For some, at least

Rigel is tired of Kai and Galen putting them in trouble all the time, he just wanted to avoid unnecessary conflicts as much as possible! But it seems they have other plans :‘)

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My spread for the @/opoczine [twitter / instagram] !!! Ft. a few from my OC’s crew 💞  I had a great time meeting everyone and their OCs aaa 🥺💖

The zine is FREE and still is up to download, come check it out it has tons of amazing arts, writings and merchs!! <33

Untold Stories of the Grandline: A One Piece OC Zine

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Instagram | Twitter

⚠ Please, DON’T repost and don’t use this artwork;

[saiyanwitcher]

Holy crap, Prince of Death is such a tour de force! The attention to detail, the world-building, the intense drama, the raw emotions - it's all just stunning. 

Admittedly, I know almost nothing about DBZ, and you've done a fantastic job weaving just enough background into the narrative for the uninitiated while making it your own for this universe at the same time. The blend of fantasy and sci-fi on display is so yummy and rich to devour.

And Max just needs the biggest hug, ugh. At least he's together with Charles... (for now?!) - tho, I can already picture the angst and drama ahead when Max wakes up - poor thing bears the weight of duty so heavily and personally (and honorably).

And Alonso - omg!! Love how he calls Max out for his shit, protects him, teaches him, just - everything about him in his role in this AU is gold.

Hopefully Carlos stops being a little punk - maybe once he realizes that Alonso has also sent his prince to the same destination that he set for Charles (which I'm dying to see where that it is, btw - with pop culture in my head, I can see anything from Dagobah to Hoth to Vormir to... even Mars lol - whatever you choose, I know it will be great), or once Carlos has an inevitable reconciliation and he sees just compatible Max & Charles truly are... such potential! ✨

I did have higher hopes for George, ugh. He should know better than to follow in his master's vile footsteps, but otherwise, he makes for a rich villain. And that's to say nothing of Jos - you've done an excellent job making him truly repulsive with his physical & emotional abuse in the name of controlling Max. And I absolutely cannot wait for him to get his just deserts - to be on the receiving end of Max letting the full force of his power loose, hair & eyes flaming as he unleashes raw fury - oh, please, please, let it be so! (Tho, no matter how Jos goes down, it will still be infinitely rewarding).

... okay, this got way longer than I thought, so my apologies 🤭 But in short, this fic is just outta-this-world stellar. Thank you so much for sharing and I look forward to reading more ❤🚀

Hello there!

I've really tried my hardest to explain things thoroughly and adapt the universe to make it my own, so I'm glad people aren't like . . . wtf are you talking about? 😅

Alonso is so amazing and fit this roll perfectly in my head, I'm glad it's translating on paper. While he's not Max's or Charles' real dad, he's the father they both deserve.

Carlos is in for some major transformation of character in part 2 as well as George. Those two need some growth and perspective, and they will be getting both (for better or worse) as the story goes on.

I'm so glad you mentioned the little sneak peak I gave for Max's potential in ch 12! I didn't get a lot of comments on it, but in his rage and grief, trying to protect himself, he tapped into something that he will need to find again later. Now, did he find it because it was about Charles? Or has he always had it and just couldn't break through 👀 Regardless, there will be more exploration in part 2.

Max is having the hardest time the poor baby! But you are right . . . when he wakes up 👀 He is so confused lol. In fact, enjoy a little piece:

A soft surface beneath him felt strangely comforting against his back, but the sight of the stars whizzing by outside the familiar red-tinted glass disoriented him. 

The robotic feminine voice of the scouting pod continued to drone on in the background, its words barely registering as Max struggled to make sense of the situation. 

“. . . initiating vapor bath reversal protocol. You are now one parsec away from your destination. . . ”

Limbs moving slowly, body trying to regain control, Max felt the seat surface behind him gently rise, before lowering again. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he was in the scouting pod meant for Charles to flee Jos’ base ship.

Stunned, Max whipped around to discover that the soft surface his back had been resting against was Charles’ chest, still moving gently with each slow breath. 

Relief flooded through him when he spotted the Eldri resting behind him, still unconscious, but seemingly unharmed.

His relief was short-lived, when the memories of the launch deck came rushing back.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Okay okay request tiem!! So like, first of all, hope you're doing well fjkebd-- second of all, how would vil, jamil and idia react to a mc in the self aware au (already in their universe) drawing and or painting them, telling the constant compliment over how pretty or nice they are to draw, doodle them in their notebooks when taking notes and so on.

Idk it's like a thing I do with my friends, so I wanna know what they'd do n all, fbnebd thank u!! <3<3<3<3<3

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsebility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, isolation

Jamil Viper/Vil Schoenheit/Idia Shroud-Player draws and constantly tells them compliments

Ok, so we are throwing away our independance today (not something I would recommend but you do you)

Jamil is used to stand in the shadow of Kalim, heck, even his own parents thought that the future sultan was more important than their son

When you were suddenly standing in front of him he was already shoked enough, almost dropping the tray filled with food for his employer

Let us just say that Scarabia is in constant danger of going up in flames after that

Oh why? Well he just, more or less, quit without handing in the piece of paper that usually says “Mhm sorry bro but I’m leaving. The pay was never good tbh”

Yes, he is still employed but the person he is serving in truth is you, leaving Kalim alone with the stove

And since most of the people reading this probably don’t have a butler we are of course impressed by his skills

No wonder Al-Asim can’t do stuff on his own, Jamil is spoiling you into dependance!

So what do you do when you are impressed? You compliment whoever had that affect on you

That is already bad enough in itself but now you are also drawing him? Doodeling him into your notebooks? (He defenitely checks them)

Did you want him to be your 24/7 caretaker who takes your freedom away or what?

Somehow it is possible that those actions are making him even more focused on taking care of you

Has defenitely taken one of the paintings and hid it just for him to see

But please lay the mop down. He is here to take care of the dorm and you just need to live a comfortable life

What do you mean he does everything? Just rely on him and don’t meet with others, they just get your clothes dirty and make scratches in the freshly waxed floor boards

Also, isn’t he here? Why would you need anyone else? Uh… sorry there is something in his eyes. Could you take a look?

Vil is pretty used to compliments and also has defenitley gotten fanart before

But if it’s you? The hecking Mona Lisa in his eyes

So how did he get close enough to you to recieve such things?

Two words, one meaning: overall care

Like this man is polishing you like his life depends on it

It’s already bad enough that you are living in that dirty place but you can’t even afford simple self care! (We ignore for now that his defenition of “simple” is worth the rent of an ordinary person)

But the man wants- no, is determined to scrub the dust of the ruin away and uncover the shining diamond under all that filth

And since we all are bound by social beauty standarts (and don’t want skin deseases connected to dirt) we are (most likely) very thankful for his hard work

So one day he came into your room, a bottle of hand lotion in his perfectly manicured clutches, and ran straight into your mirror

Oh you are curious why? Well you just threw a compliment and “thanks” at his head

But it’s probably you more freaked out because whilst he did get a scratch on his face he didn’t even care

Once you start do NOT stop!

If you do he will think that you have found someone else whom you consider better company

And remember that huge green house they have? There is probably something in there capable to make you… uh… “stay close to him”

Also, those third years you have asked for the way to your next classroom have been found “with their red paint outside their bodies” and their hearts missing, suspicious arrows sticking out of them

But what did you expect? The Fairest Queen was also pretty possessive of her status as the “most beautiful” and what is there to stop him in following her footsteps? Just maybe not with beauty…

So either you wanted to roast marmellows in a very extreme way or you wanted to burn the whole building down

But here he is, probably already having reached the melting point of stone and still staring at you

Are you seriously suprised? This is Idia we are talking about

You are a God to Idia, a flawed one but still higher than even Hades… that guy is literally death

And he also thinks that he is very unattractive so you might as well tell Lilia to leave his iron sticks away unless he wants to rshape them

How are you still alive standing in thnis heat??!

It is already hard enough to just get in contact with him but somehow you did

Idia is not used to get paintings drawn of him and only Ortho would be able to convince him to get a picture done of him

But now here you are, telling him that you admire his skills with electronics

I hope you brought your marmellows because I forgot mine at home

When he was just creepely looking at you from time to time then say goodbye to privacy after this

You see, strays also come back to you if you fed them once and Idia is just as starved for attention as a stray is for food

But what exactly is he supposed to do? Well…

You remember that phone Crowley gave us over the winter holidays? He never took that one back

Even though Idia knows he shouldn’t do this and feels bad he just can’t stop

Stop looking at you, stop watchig you, stop craving the warmth you gave him on that fatefull day

[mareenavee]

Fic Authors Self Rec!

Tagged by the indominable @kookaburra1701! Rules:

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

I love this. OKAY LET'S GO. Tell me about how proud you are of your work, friends. You've come so far <3

Tagging: @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thana-topsy, @dirty-bosmer, @thequeenofthewinter, @gilgamish, @archangelsunited, @throughtrialbyfire, @expended-sleeper, @ladytanithia and YOU yes if you see this, talk kindly about your writing journey and TAG ME BACK <3

Below the cut because I do be ramblin' (: They're not really in any particular order, I just love them all for different reasons.

1) If We Knew Anything At All

This one was a hell ship prompted by a list that Topsy shared with a bunch of us and I had a brainwyrm, then ended up crying while I wrote the end of it. Quite possibly one of my favorite ever pieces. This one is both the inevitable end to my fic universe and something completely outside time. How did I manage this? Via Sheogorath's voicing. I don't think it gets more unreliable than that.

2) Metempsychosis

A very dear friend and fantastic teammate I met through Skywind sent me this prompt and it gave me such an excellent challenge not only to flex on weird god voice stuff again, but also to bust out some spoken word poetry tricks. I did end up recording myself reading this one too and it felt like old times. I loved all the layers of references I shoved into 1,000 words. It is also my first Morrowfic. And also one that reminded me what I am capable of even more strongly than some of my other projects did. 🥰

3) Serpens Caput

This one is newer, yes BUT OH MY GODS what a flex it was. ANOTHER Morrowfic but it's set in Ceth's fic universe featuring not only major character death but the mindset of a villain in his final moments. And we get to see Danger!Josh through his eyes. It was WEIRD. WEIRD WEIRD but so much fun. I don't think I've yelled so much about a fic whilst writing before. Ceth threw me this prompt, but I don't think was expecting this to end up...being this way (: Borrowed the description of Teldryn and Nerevar from her universe and just RAN WITH IT.

4) Little Dragon

This was written as part of my cute, happy LDB!Athis polycule AU where nothing is quite as horrifically messy as my main fic universe. It is a different kind of catharsis to write, often fun and humorous and a flex in that direction, since I didn't know what i was capable of—I always write pining and heartbreak lol. This came about as part of a fic writer's duel with AU (judged by Poly) which was honestly one of the coolest fandom experiences I've ever been in. It has become its own thing now with multiple other stories and I've been in yet another fandom duel since then. So it's all cute fuzzy feelings and happy memories and I love it to bits.

and last but certainly not least:

5) The World on Our Shoulders

My longfic which throws characters into extremely tough situations, handles horribly difficult themes and topics, shows people being messy and still finds ways to show it all with grace. It's what got me out of my multi-year writing slump and truly, truly brought me back to myself. So yes maybe some of the characters have some of my irl nonsense. Some scenes are far too relatable and it's a little scary sometimes how horrible that is, but it's a different kind of Catharsis. I love also the support its gotten so far for its specific type of storytelling structure as well as all the weird details that sprawl into other stories (Like my honorable mention written for Para, Recurse) and sequels and spin offs. It's been a great joy to be writing this and it's continued to inspire me. From draft one, which I wrote in challenge mode, posting every day this last February to now, where I am mid-ground-up-edit, I love this project to bits and will do all I can to see it through to the end. I see how much I can accomplish in this project. I see what can be done with common tropes and themes and even Fic in general. It's unalienated labor that I do for the sheer hell of it because I can and it's mine and I don't have to follow The Rules. There's something beautiful about that. It's one reason I get up at the crack of dawn every day -- to write for the sake of writing. Out of spite sometimes for all the ways the world tries to crush this kind of self expression out of us. This is my gem of a project. And I am proud of it and how far I've come since I started it. (:

So now it's your turn, if you got this far. Why do you write? How have your favorite fics you've written changed your perspective on the craft so far?

[minipisi-is-dumb]

Got any predictions for Sonic Prime before it comes out?

oh anon you have no idea what you just did

so i got a bit yeah wait

the trailer shows that nobody recognizes sonic in the other universes, sure, but it makes me think wether is because sonic never existed in that universe, or died and now this new sonic came and nobody knows what to do with it. even if personally i find the second one more interesting, the most likely to be is that sonic never existed in the first place-like that one chapter of sonic boom type of situation-

tbh i like the idea of sonic just dying in at least the dystopian au because i am starving for tails angst and seeing his design and animation that could've been a good opportunity

that counsel of eggmans looks a bit like it's all the eggmans from all dimensions and it makes me SO interested. if it is and it seems like it's the main threat it would make so much sense why the urgency of going between worlds to solve the problem of there being apparently no barrier between the universes. but also ! that would mean that a) original eggman traveled not only to an alternate dimension but time traveled too in order to create the counsel before sonic arrives b) the counsel of eggmans is an entity created way before the events of our main universe where every world where sonic isn't there has it's Eggman join

or maybe the many eggmans is just some cloning thing and im getting more excited than i should but MAN i can't help it

Oh oh can i can i talk about TAILS for a sec (shocked)

ive been thinking about how maybe his two biological tails are fine. but outside of his original form we don't see him flying. like call me crazy but what it tails cannot fly? at least in the dystopian au? sonc lore depending on the source has two main possible ways that tails learned to fly where in one when he gets excited he involuntarily moves his tails and that's how he know and the other one he learned because he wanted to be able to keep up with sonic's speed (sonic origins merges both of these ideas into one but it's still this two) so maybe he needs robotic tails bc of that idk

not a prediction more like a genuine curiosity on how multiverse works in prime. like look i adore the concept of multiverse as much as the next guy but ive never seen it done in a way that it really explores how much the existence of a multiverse can impact the characters, because the mcu and rick and morty showed me how easy it is to misuse it and make it feel boring and shows like final space where multiverse slowly wanted to be used with potential had no chance to shine enough for it to count as a multiverse story imo

so since the entire novelty of THIS piece of sonic media is that it has a multiverse concept it does make me very interested since it won't be an afterthought of a bigger story but the entire reason why the story exists. so yeah i cannot expect any deep psychological exploration on the cosmic horror of infinite versions of oneself or some deep shit bc that's not what SONIC is about

like if i would want super deep philosophy stuff i wouldn't be expecting it from this franchise and much less i would be a fan of it i just like funny mobians. but i JUST want a well written fun multiverse story where it feels like the multiverse as a concept is not there for decor and is actually made with sense and it's own rules n stuff. i just want my stories to make sense.

[kagedbird]

Idea based on friend of mine suggesting ideas of modern Kaidan….

Imagine reverse scenario of allora au, modern skyrim and she came from skyrim era earth. Or shes from skyrim and got plopped into modern earth

God, do you know how overwhelming that'd be?

There's no magick in our realm, so I don't think I'd keep whatever magick I did have, so like. That's all ready overwhelming. Secondly, no gods?? What?? Like, no one to directly commune with or anything like that. Akatosh?? Mara?? Where are you?? Who is this Jesus- why is he dead?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR GOD?!??!? (AND WHY ARE SOME WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO PROCLAMATE THEIR GOD-)

Secondly the TECHNOLOGY. THE ADVANCEMENTS. You see all these people living in thatched roofs, stone and wood houses. It's a little cold and drafty sometimes but it gets the job done. DO YOU KNOW HOW OVERWHELMING AC AND HEATING WOULD BE?? Instant spoiled cat. I'd never leave the house. OR THE PLUMBING-

God there's just so much. That's not even getting into the politics, economy, infrastructure (kind of)- it'd be weird to see so many people homophobic too, given the world of Skyrim is essentially full of bi / pan people. And I consider Interesting NPCs to be canon- IDGAF- that beautiful trans darling asking for aid for you to help her transition makes me cry. Not being able to magically transition?? Being GOUGED for prices to feel comfortable in your own body?? A travesty.

Kaidan would likely have to hold me back on storming up to the White House or whatever official in the area he lived in and giving them a piece of my mind. I do enjoy the idea of the boys being like, college roommates or something, that's super cute. The three of them having to hide me because I just question EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. None of them can EVER let it get out that I just fell outside from the SKY, I'd be taken by the government somewhere and tested by various scientists.

Kaidan would probably be really concerned about me a lot of the time- all ready stressed out from faltering on his grades for college courses and now he's gotta keep a random woman who fell into his lap safe?? STOP TOUCHING THE ELECTRACAL SOCKETS WOMAN- this man needs a nap. But he'd be really sweet about educating me about life around the area for sure. Street smarts, definitely thinking his weaknesses in school is that he was homeschooled his whole life maybe? And the overwhelming college transition is making it more difficult? The pressure, the costs, the amount you have to deal with; it'd be a lot for sure. But I'd help with what I could, even if it's just a rubber ducky moment where he reads stuff out to me just to find what in what is wrong.

And I know you specified Kai, but I do enjoy thinking about what my other husbands would do with me around 😊😂 Lu-Lu would be pestering me about magick versus science and, me being me with loves for both, would go back and forth about discussing the utility of both in the world, despite how little the advancement is in society. Definitely talks about the Dwemer- probably asking if THEY were Dwemer and wondering if I got shunted by the Heart somehow, despite being no where near the Tribunal or Solstheim. He'd be all over learning about various aspects of Skyrim, the gods, the social structures, the wars- horrified of course of the ongoing war, but all the more curious to how people handle it.

Inigo and I would be fast friends, as always in every universe. We both have that sense of humor that most people find a little kooky but we fit like a glove together! And I could definitely see myself opening up to him about the horrors of war that had been going on, worrying about my family and if they were okay, etc. He's very relaxed but also has a lot on his shoulders, and I'd definitely wanna be there for him too.

OH but man that raises the question about Bren- would he be in this universe? If he is, I feel like he lives nearby and finds me after I get lost around the nearby area, takes me in, takes care of me for a while until the boys find me. I don't want to leave him behind in another universe, thas my uncle. Him family.

The biggest question would be why was I sent here? Because I all ready have that figured out for TESSDE, but in a modern setting, in this world, what would the gods have for sending lil ol me a whole world- an entire universe- away? That's the big one. I don't want it to be a punishment because TESSDE is about finding your place in the world no matter how much it seemingly doesn't want you, and I'd wanna keep that. But I'm not sure how I could twist it for a real world.

(Maybe watching the Barbie movie could help.)

Sorry for this HUGE blurb 😂 Not what you were expecting I'm sure, but it is always so fun to think of AUs!! Thank you for asking!

[ginevralinton]

8, 10, 18, 20?

Thank you for the ask!!

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

I think so! I tend to write more for the characters and relationships that I enjoy most, and I wouldn't write something I wouldn't want to particularly read. Still, I think I probably read more broadly than I write?

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Generally it goes:

I get an idea and make a note of it

I make a really rough plan (unless it's going to be super short) and scribble down any sentences/phrases that I've already got

If I don't start writing then, I tend to 'write' the piece in my head as I go about my normal day

Then, I sit down to write it, with varying degrees of success and speed

Finish it, leave it for a little (a few hours or days or weeks or months, depending...) and then edit

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

There were several alternative/abandoned ideas for House Share:

In the first plan, when Mike makes the pet cemetery for Fanny, he makes a mistake or something isn't precisely right, Fanny criticised, but later Alison tells Mike she's seen her visiting it and admiring it. I decided to ditch that because it felt too negative

Mike was going to introduce Thomas to some new poets (that he'd just googled - or asked a friend about) and Thomas might or might not have hated them. I just wasn't really feeling that in the end

For Robin's chapter, they were going to go stargazing outside at night and then Mike ended up with a cold, but it felt a bit too expected, unexciting, and again, negative, which wasn't the vibe I was going for. I was discussing it with @thelastplantagenet who gave me a lot of the actual idea (thank you!!)

With Julian, I was considering a games night, Mike creating a night club type thing, them exchanging music suggestions (and listening to the worst songs). I tried writing all of them, but kept getting stuck so I scrapped it and started over

Oh, and in general, it was supposed to be a one chapter fic, maybe 4k words with a short section for each ghost (a bit like Hard-earned privileges) however, well, you know how long it became...

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

This Feeling and Inheritance both mention Julian taking Rachel out to a restuarant and going against Margot's wishes and letting her have one of those fancy sundaes that are always on the menu for kids but which the kid never actually eats - so naturally Rachel doesn't eat it and steals from Julian's cheeseboard instead. This is now some kind of core memory for both of them in my head

Talking of This Feeling, it mentions 'that ice-cream based uproar at the local hospital, involving smashed bowls, screaming arguments and no willingness to compromise on either side' - which er... was a thing that happened when I was in hosptial

There are some fun references in Still the same girl. I say fun, they are fun only to me and are mostly literary since I drew a lot from Victorian novels for this one! The references include: Middlemarch by George Eliot, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, The Grey Woman by Elizabeth Gaskell (which seemed fitting, considering Fanny's ghostly appearances in photos), Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte, Great Expectations and Bleak House by Charles Dickens and Dracula by Bram Stoker. It also mentions Mrs Greville, who owned Polsden Lacey (which is a National Trust place these days) and also Royal Holloway College/university, which is where I went and did indeed open for women in the 1880s.

Don't let them get you down, you're the best thing I've seen is, in many ways, my dissertation in the form of a story, including all the extra details/paragraphs that I had to cut from my final essay (as in, they didn't even get written, because halfway through the original plan, I realised I was already 5000 words over the word limit, which...yeah)

Okay, that got very, very lengthy - thank you to anyone who actually reads that. (I could expand further but I do not think that would be read 😁)

[moonfurthetemmie]

So i did the rest of the important people

by the way it's a tragedy that tumblr only has a handful of text colors because i can't pull this shit here

anyways. long post. And I did decide to have Antonio be deaf and Bea blind.

For most of them, I changed their body proportions at least a little from the saved AU versions I copied from (so i didn't have to completely create them from fucking scratch again). Bea became a little taller and skinnier. Antonio got taller and bulkier. Lodo may not have changed height but i think i gave them a little more weight. don't remember how i changed bella or sforza. Francisco got his posture fixed, and then I manually made him hunch over so even if you'd seen melon you wouldn't know HJKGDFSHJKG

Isabella ('Bella')

Waow…..scary lady….crazy scary lady even….

Is she better at pretending to be sane? Do Petruccio and Gonzalo care less about appearing sane? Who knows. If you ask they’ll all just laugh and change the subject. 

She appears to be equally close with Gonzalo and Petruccio, though at times it’s unclear if they’re friends or if it’s just the bosses and their most loyal minion. They’ll tell you they’re all friends

Girlfam still isn’t as excited about the theater bullshit as Gonzalo and Petruccio, but she is having fun. Her persona for missions is “a heavily scarred” storm-bringer. Since she can’t actually summon storms she can only go in-character where there are storms, but it’s. Not that hard to find somewhere having a thunderstorm. Especially when you have access to countless alternate universes. 

Her staff isn’t magic; she just conducts her own magic through it. Because its metal. 

All the Koroit alternates I’ve had a hand in making (except for Elphaba) have different colored hair tips. Bella’s is dark blue because Yes. Also Bella's hair is like...mid-back length? and a bit of it is pulled back into a braid but not ALL of it

Ironically she does have a lot of scars. It’s just that very few of them are on her face. Petruccio and Gonzalo did it (serious)

im not super thrilled with the costume but it's what i got right now. and since i had Elphaba's theme be based on the strings, I wanted Bella's theme be the lightning. i also thought that maybe she ought not to be all black clothes for both outfits. idk. just a thought.

The “enhancement” she was given was an expanded reservoir of magic. She can use a lot more magic, and for much longer, than normal Koroit can. If she’s not careful about it, though, she could be seriously injured because of this. It’s possible she could stop her own heart from channeling too much of her lightning magic. Her strings are also much stronger and more durable.

Antonio

“What would be an effective palette change to make it seem like it’s not the monochrome guy?” 

“RAINBOW”

As far as the outside world is concerned, he’s colorblind. He's not actually, but the colors were so jarring that I thought it'd be funny if he was like "I am NOT wearing that. Oh my god. I know I only wear black and white but jesus christ my fashion sense isn't THAT bad" and Gonzalo and/or Petruccio made a joke about thinking he was colorblind because he only wore black and white. and then he didn't get or make a better costume so he just started spreading a rumor that he was completely colorblind

You see that little tattoo poking out from under his hoodie sleeve? See how it’s also fully covered up by the rainbow costume? If you’re ever gonna go out and do something you might get in deep shit for cover up all scars and tattoos that can be used to identify you. Which is everything. Cover them up

Having said that you may note i forgot one of his face scars.

It’s more obvious on the chest piece, but every piece in the rainbow costume has a lil bit of that deep bloo

He is deaf. For the same reason that Bea is now blind. That being, Petruccio and Gonzalo wanted to try and make it easier for them to ‘hear’ Yighraru. Since it doesn’t speak the way the rest of them do, it does sort of work. He can sometimes hear it trying to whisper to him. The only problem is that Antonio, for reasons unknown, seems oddly resistant to its influence. It’s definitely helping that he’s avoiding those two (and bella) as often as he can, though.

Bella does not like being avoided and he doesn’t usually succeed with her

The “enhancement” he was given was mainly just increasing his physical strength beyond what a regular mortal should be capable of. Antonio doesn’t know the details of how they did it, and he doesn’t want to.

Beatrice ('Bea')

oh she’s SO !!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry the fox ninja thing is. It’s doing things to my heart

Come a little closer don’t worry about the wolverine claws ahahahah

The black + blue hair is part of the costume. A Wig

While she can no longer see, her hearing has greatly improved. Some of it is less ‘improvement’ and more ‘she has to rely on it more so she hears more things that she didn’t notice before’, but most of it is the hearing aids they gave her so “she could still be useful”. She didn’t deal with the loss of her sight well so she relied on the hearing aids a lot. They’re not that loud, but they are pretty sensitive. She has to turn them down some during missions, or take them out completely, but by now she’s gotten used to having them out and functioning without them. She still definitely prefers hearing more things though. As an added bonus no one can sneak up on her now

Why get white cane when simply wear metal-toed boots to keep from stubbing the shit out of your toes (she says, walking barefoot around the house 90% of the time for Minimum Noise From Self)

Tbf tho bare feet very good for feeling around. Having said that GIRL what about GLASS! This is like 50% of the reason Lodovico goes around with you everywhere girl!!!!!!!!! Your feet!!!!!! Are gonna get sliced!!!!! All to hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways. Her entire Casual Outfit is meant to minimize the amount of noise she herself makes with the exception of Scarf and Hanging Belts. The scarf is sentimental value. The belts make just enough noise for her to know wear she is. Pretty much just echolocation on a human level. If she needs more noise she just does the click click click thing with her tongue. 

Also as a point of pure spite, any time Gonzalo or Petruccio say ‘look’ she makes That Face and goes “seriously? You’re asking me to look after what you did?”

They seem to be amused by this. She’s absolutely terrified of pissing them off, but it’s pretty hard to without hurting them or talking shit about one/both of them or Yighraru. 

She is unaware of the color change in her eyes, or the fact that the scars from what they did are glowing.

“Wait, how can she and Lodo communicate if Lodo can only use sign language and Bea’s blind?” do it in her hand. Seriously. They do the signs against Bea’s hands. I saw them do it on the tv. It might work a little differently than normal sign language but on god they’ll figure it out

Also the um. The tattoos. So like I have this AU with a whole ass pantheon of gods that I made up? And I made the sake of being like ‘ok for this one specific story, Paraiba comes from that world and those are her gods’ and then it just. Permanently stuck. So those tattoos are meant to be symbolic of the god of darkness, trickery, and activity; who’s also the god of the moon. they’re not evil they’re just. Kind of chaotic. Look i saw moon tattoos and monkey brain went IDEA

The “enhancement” she was given was mainly speed. This is the biggest reason her persona ended up being a sneaky foxy thing. She can sneak around very quickly, and that means she’s very valuable for gathering information and sowing chaos through a crowd.

Lodovico ('Lodo')

Petruccio and Gonzalo decided to see if they could make it so Yighraru could speak through Lodo. They failed. But Lodo can feel Yighraru more than the others–save for Petruccio, Gonzalo, and Bella–can. No one’s ever said anything, but Lodo just. Knows. What limited use their vocal cords did have is now completely gone because of this “operation.”

As Petruccio and Gonzalo so very much wanted Yighraru to speak to them through a more corporeal form, they put much more effort into it than they did with the other three. As an unintended consequence of this, Lodo has quite a bit of their magic in them. A little like how normal Obsidian used his corruption to put a magic tracker on everyone, but they didn’t even know they could do that. After accidentally doing to Lodo, they decided to try it on everyone else. Lodo is the only one that has a visible mark on their skin from it, though. 

Their hair in the costume is their real hair, it’s just a spray-on hair dye. Also they took the cornrows out and fluffed their hair up to a full afro.

Her theme is “wasteland survivor”. Used to hardship, ruthless and lethal from years trying to get by even just one more day. She never speaks, and it’s left unclear whether she can or not. 

The team has worked out various signals for Bea and Lodo. Specifically how Lodo can signal the others without signing, and how they can all signal to Bea with some form of nonverbal noise. Bea and Lodo have a few specific ones between the two of them that the rest of the team hasn’t even fully figured out.

Note that they tried to cover up the markings from Petruccio and Gonzalo’s magic, but some of it is still peeking through.

the knife. in the first one. there's a vague thought of 'old keepsake' and 'They Are Considering Murder' but beyond that it's...it's mostly that I needed them to hold something and i thought it'd be cool to try and make it look like they were unsheathing it. I can! when her arms are higher up. it got wonky trying to lower them tho and i decided that proof of concept wasn't as important as having a non-awkward pose.

Originally she wasn’t going to get an enhancement, but after Bea taught her how to fight and the pair became best friends, Petruccio and Gonzalo decided Lodo should at least be able to keep up with Bea. The two spirits don’t realize that Bea and Lodo’s relationship is not anywhere near the same levels of toxic codependency as theirs. Lodo and Bea decide that complaining is probably a bad idea

Francisco

i. i made the most beautiful brown eyes i've ever seen in heroforge. oh my god. And hten i had to make them ORANGE

My boy is NOT having a good time. But honestly who would be

He’s probably the closest, aside from Sforza and Bella, to figuring out why, exactly, Petruccio and Gonzalo are doing all this shit to the team. Because they haven’t actually said anything to anyone. Bella pissed them off so she got a whole speech about it from them, and since she’s now 100% with them they tell her way, way more than they do anyone else. Sforza was plot-dumped on too. Also he can hear The Whispers so there’s that.

The only piece missing, for Francisco, is what the FUCK that blue shit is coming from. It’s not Petruccio and Gonzalo. The blue came after their wounds scarred over. Like, okay, he’s heard the crazy three talking about “Yighraru”, but that doesn’t mean shit to him. Is it a person? A group of people? Some kind of supernatural entity?? He has no idea. 

He’s been spared from Gonzalo and Petruccio’s little experiments, but they do try to mess with his head a lot. Usually he tells them to buzz off unless they want to unsettle him so bad he fucks up his job and someone dies, and usually it works.

Sortino

He didn’t get any enhancements, but they did consider it. They just couldn’t think of anything that’d actually be useful; for them or for him. Beyond stretchy limbs so he can get to high-up places for cleaning without a ladder or something, which they didn’t (and still don’t) think they could do.

Much like with Icarus, Sortino comes down regularly to bring Sforza food. Gonzalo and Petruccio don’t want him to starve before they can make him Yighraru’s vessel <33

Sortino knows that Sforza’s being prepared for some kind of ritual, but beyond that knows nothing. He stays with him while he eats, just to give him some company and talk to him. He’s the only reason Sforza stayed sane for as long as he has.

He’s told even less about shit that even Francisco is, but he doesn’t want to know. He’d rather keep his head down, do his job, and get their attention off of him. Maybe he can find a way to get himself and Sforza out of here

Sforza

While they are committing inhumane atrocities on him, Petruccio and Gonzalo think Sforza at least deserves some clothes, so he got a nice robe and pants and even some shoes

Some of the glowing things on his body are scars. Some are either tattoos or paint. All of the ones that are glowing (the only set not glowing is unseen, but it’s top surgery scars) were made by Gonzalo and/or Petruccio. 

He’s still with it, but his sanity is holding on by a fucking thread. Much more, and…

Sometimes, for seemingly no reason, he gets really freaked out and starts saying stuff that Sortino absolutely doesn’t understand. He understands “The whispers are back” but that’s about it. 

Also while they gave him clothes it’s. Literally just that one set. 

[gali-la]

ooo questions for fanfic writers!! answer however many you'd like! <3

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? 4. What detail in take everything with you (but leave the sun behind) are you really proud of? 15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? 21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart, what would it be? 42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

thank you!! ♥

So many juicy questions omg. i have to drop by your inbox too later >:) (once i check to see what's already been asked XD)

Okay!! for #2, oh boy, let's see...

the number one tag is "One Piece Bingo" with thirteen works, but by my decree, that doesn't count. MOVING ON, we've got "smut" with ten works and, yeah, that kind of fits. especially with the demon that was Kid week—hot damn, did i do smut for that. Next up is "Angst" with seven works, then "Established relationship" (6), "Alternate Universe—Modern Setting" (5), and finally, "Nightmares" (5). Honestly, the only one im surprised by there is "modern setting." i didn't think i wrote that many, though the rest of these sure fit imo. i do love my angst and smut XD

#4: What detail in take everything with you (but leave the sun behind) are you really proud of?

That's a tough one i do love this work a lot. hmm. I am gonna say im proud of the prose, though that's more of an overarching thing than a detail. Nonetheless, it's still a lil foray outside of my usual writing style and i enjoyed it <3

Now a detail so i can actually answer this question... im gonna say this bit towards the end:

"Her wings spread of their own accord, allowing her to feel the cold wind through her feathers once more. His first words to her came to mind. Hello, little bird. Would you like me to take you away from here? Yes, she chanted, yes, yes, please, anywhere you want to go."

It's precious to me. I don't know why,, it's got a lil undercurrent of "wow you are so fucked" but also peacefulness and i was jumping out of my skin to write it down <3

#15: What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

Oh my god this is so tough. It's stuck between two right now—one of them I've only written like, half a paragraph for (you know the one) so im gonna say it doesn't count yet.

Winner then has to be then my One Piece Demon Slayer AU. God, I wanna write more of this when i have the time, but right now, there's only one work out there in the realms: Pink is the Prettiest Color (if you check it out heed the tags!!). I just love both OP and KNY so much... and swords are so sexy... ANYWAY i've got like. a whole conspiracy for this au i believe ive cursed you with it in the past. SOMEDAY im gonna write more for it >:)

#21: If you wrote a “missing scene” in Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart, what would it be?

ahhhhhhh what a good question. I'm almost tempted to say "the wedding" but that's such a cliche answer let me think about it.

It's hard because that's one of my favorite works and I feel like it's pretty solid as is. Now, the question is—am i thinking of a scene i would like to have added, or a later addition/standalone that's connected but not required for the story? In the first case, I think a "experimenting with makeup" and such scene would have been cool. It's silly and small (and i have no fuckin clue how makeup works) I think it would have been a cool scene to further explore Rosi's newfound femininity. now, in the latter case, first thought that comes to mind is the honeymoon. skip the wedding, vows, whatnot, and straight to the married bliss. im a sap like that (also, more smut >:) I do love my katacora smut). I'm not sure if I'll ever add more to this, but these are tempting thoughts!!

Last but not least, #42: Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

ABSOLUTELY. I got one that is very nsfw so I will spare you that one—but another of my faves is a pair of comments on Pink is the Prettiest Color (1) (2). They were very sweet and flattering, of course, but I could also feel the love for the works and the love for both of the fandoms!! They melt me <3

Of course, all essay comments also hold a very dear place in my heart. they make me want to cry every time i see them—like, oh my god, someone enjoyed my work that much?? holy cow asdfsjfovhs

Thank you for the questions, my dear dear gen <3 these are so much fun to think about

(dang this post got long. Here's the questions if anyone wants to ask away/reblog for themselves!)

[saym0-0]

alternatively, au where the mechs ARE the emperors, not a character crossover just shoving the mechs in the empires yk? or if not the actual emperors but people in the universe

that seems easier tbh just on the basis that i can shove them all in the grimlands and make the world smaller 💀

there aren't enough fics/aus that they aren't actual space pirates in its kinda sad. anyways im making nastya and jonny the twins in this au

jonny fits fwhips personality better and nastya fits gems better but nastya is the canonical engineer 💔 its okay i can save this

hrm okay im going to just loosely base it off of my empires universe, because theres just a lot that doesnt line up, so its kinda just a fantasy au lol but with a lot of world building because this world has taken literal years to build and i do have a history of shoving random ocs in it before so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it means you dont need esmp knowledge for it tho so huzzah

i think tim & raph will work in the royal forge (centre of grimlands industry basically, where they make stuff), but like different areas. raph works on wearable stuff like prosthetics & wings, she probably also helps out with the salmon mechs. although i might trade the role from salmon to octokittens lol. tim works on weapon development, specifically the crossbows the grimlands is known for, but potentially also the swords & hand to hand stuff?

marius is either a mythland royal/nobility (baron anyone?) or the castle doctor im not sure.,, raph made his arm though

oh also carmilla is countess & nastya/jonnys mom,,, shes scary everyone is scared of her (just like in canon!)

ivy i think is rivendellian, maybe she moves to the crystal cliffs after i figure out how to incorporate that into my au i think she would like it there

hmmmm perhaps ashes runs a black market on magic items since they're outlawed in the grimlands in the expanded esmp but at the same time i dont really think carmilla has any motivation to do that? hmm

ts is the general for the grimlands army, but it started out as a clone of a prior mezelean ruler, when they died it just wandered off and ended up in the grimlands eventually. over time as its clay began to crack and fall apart it replaced more and more of itself with wood, until all that was left of the clone clay that kept it going was a lumpy blob inside its hollow wooden shell. i think this one makes the least sense to anyone outside of my own head apologies,, basically the ruler of mezelea can make clones of themself out of clay blessed by the mother tree (magic tree- basis of local religion) and after they die their heir makes new clones of themself and upkeep the old ones so eventually they're kinda unrecognisable as the previous ruler. without this regular upkeep eventually they crack into pieces and kinda just stop until they're fixed, kinda like a coma more than death &revival

grah am i missing anyone i don't believe so

hmmm maybe carmilla will secretly kidnap the mechs individually and bring them into her evil basement lab to experiment on & mechanise, maybe thats the plot: them discovering they're not the only ones this has happened to and teaming up to shove her off of the salmon sanctuary or smth

i think the running bit of 'not a baron or a doctor' bit still exists but he is both a baron and a doctor, he has the family tree and phd to prove it but absolutely no one believes him ('if youre a baron then wheres your land hmmm' 'in mythland!! where i live!!!' 'well why arent you there right now? checkmate not-a-baron' 'because i am here!! taking care of you!! because i am a doctor!!')

and after carmilla's untimely demise/disappearance jonny is technically the count but none of his friends acknowledge this either (marius relishes being on the other end if it for once) ('killing the previous ruler doesn't make you the ruler!' 'it does when im already the heir!!' 'nope nuh uh')

oh my god. oh my GOD mechs esmp crossover. this is for SUCH a niche audience the esmp fandom is dead i dont care mechs esmp crossover

LISTEN TO ME okay ill have to add a sci-fi element to my established esmp world i am OKAY with this, grimlands are already victorian steampunk its not that big a stretch to add space travel, especially in the place of dimension travel.

okay so in my esmp lore the emperors are blessed by the gods with conditional immortality and flight, they know a new ruler has been born by if they're born with wings. i bet though i could twist that into the king cole/olympians idea of trading their citizen's lives for immortality. although it is kinda reversed? (mechs immortals tend to stop aging but can be killed, emperors still age and can die of old age, but cant be killed). hmm i mean theres definite differences between king cole and the olympians so maybe its just another variation, or something closer to the mechs themselves? though that ones less likely

honestly there literally is an esmp1 musical so i reckon its interesting enough to attract the mechs

but lets be honest with ourselves here, the only reason im doing this is so i have an excuse to draw grimlands!marius lmao

i think raph would be interested in it too though, with how they're so much more reliant on technical advancement than magical.

ivy would love the rivendell library, and crystal cliffs

hmmm jonny might have fun between mythland and the cod empire,,,

hmmmm brian would maybe like to hang out with shrub in the undergrove? he does like his garden,, maybe the overgrown with katherine too,, or gilded helianthia!

hrm,, i keep wanting to put people in the grimlands but i know thats only because its my favourite so therefore the most developed and also the most similar in vibe to the mechs

with that said though, tim really would have fun there,, like hes the gunpowder guy!! fwhip is the gunpowder guy!! they both r in charge of weapons!! guns, crossbows, same difference really

oough back to raph i think she and fwhip would bond over making their own wings,, fwhip made his to prove that he is fit to rule after gem fucked off to wizard school and raph,, uh actually i never found out raphs backstory beyond the fact im like 78% sure she made her and marius' mechanisms,, although that could be widely accepted fanon who knows not me

i think marius would also enjoy mezelea

but OH MY GOD TOY SOLDIER IN MEZELEA,,, i cant believe i almost forgot it,, i think it would immediately blend in with the clones and pretend to be one right up until they leave the planet, and have the time of its life the whole time,,

i dont know where ashes would go either.. i cant just say grimlands again because theres like four of them there already but,, the explosions!!

maybe mythland, or rivendell, those both seem like they'd appreciate a good mob boss taking over the place tbh

i think brian would get along with pix also

okay this isnt mechs but the fandom is a circle so if theres actually any fans of both out there reading this post, has anyone else noticed just how similar pix and jon's (tma) voices are?? genuinely when i started listening to the podcast i had to double check the va wasnt pix (and imagine my confusion when they share the same name too..)

anyways if anyone wants to scream about this with me please do, or if you want to know more about my esmp expanded universe feel free to do that too! in asks replies or reblogs idm

[oswlld]

OH PUEN, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW (or, an ask requested by @megacherik​ that I didn’t mean to turn into an almost 6K word count about the character, Puen)

BUCKLE UP! This post is split into two parts : 1) summarizing Puen as a standalone character and then 2) realllly diving into how these character moments are fleshed out in each episode

-

PART I - SUMMARY

Here are some takeaways about Puen as a standalone character; these conclusions are my own and some are supported under the cut, so please take these with a grain of salt (cries oh gawd there’s already pink)

ROMANTIC LEAD VS LOVE INTEREST

Romantic lead - main character in a romantic setting (main plot, other motivators drive towards romance)

Love interest - a character that the hero/main character is interested in (subplot, motivator to move the main story along)

And for the majority of the series, a lot of Puen’s onscreen presence, to me, functions more on the love interest side. HOWEVER, there’s still so many instances where his status as a romantic lead lead to understated character moments

WHAT IS IN A NAME

the narrative choice of never telling his name, calling himself/making others call him Tun for two years (and for us, ten weeks), weighs heavily when we hear “Puen” for the first time in ep 11

we feel the trauma at the same time as he does

i never took issue to the name drama and Talay has made it clear on numerous occasions it wasn’t important for him; having the audience wait ten weeks to hear it again was well executed

MOURNING? SOPHISTICATED? BLANK SLATE?

Talay’s wardrobe dialog carries the blue theme throughout his time in their universe, while Puen wore black/grayscale

we poke fun at those who default to black wardrobe, but how do I find meaning in this color palette choice that the production team assigned for Puen if it is an important characteristic for Talay/Blue?

so, is it because it’s one less thing to think about before going into work? is it painting a bigger picture about his character being orphaned? or is it simply saying nothing because we’re not supposed to know anything about him?

in a very quiet way, Tun’s wardrobe is the AU version of Puen; muted, neutral tones vs tess’/AU’s vibrancy paints, until we see Puen in red in so many occasions (which comes to a head when it comes to Real Red)

“TUN” vs PUEN

the balance between Up and Aou showcases the two sides of Puen - the person (silly) vs the actor (serious)

in a very understated way, it feels right that Talay also fits into Friend Credits and, by extension, falling in love with Puen, due to this dynamic

whether it was intentional that Jimmy moves differently or not, I have no choice but to pick up on the way Puen moves in the glass house scene, with the hand in his pocket, as if the suit/his wardrobe changes the way he carries himself vs when he was in Tun’s body and wearing casual clothes

“PEOPLE THINK I’M PERFECT”

Puen is naturally talented, picks things up quickly (good memory), which is an important skill to have for being a successful actor

reminds me of Lito a lot, having to learn new things for the job (ex: flair bartending)

we don’t see much evidence that would lead me to believe he’s a people pleaser or having insecurities to maintain perfectionism

thus, i think his professionalism, mixed with the loneliness, comes with the territory of never voicing his needs; other people assuming he could take care of himself gave himself permission to shut himself away at a young age

LOVE FROM A DISTANCE

we’re told that he remembers everything about Talay, but he has also been keeping tabs on Pang’s life while she’s been away in the other universe

it would make sense for a loner like Puen that he’d keep other people he cared about at arm's length; he’s very self-aware about being bad about love, so to what extent did he try and fail at retaining friendships in and outside of work?

in Lady Bird, there’s a scene where it’s pointed out that a piece of writing about Sacramento was written with so much affection and care; main character tells them she was just paying attention, but the other points out that “don’t you think maybe they are the same thing, love and attention?” the context for that scene in the movie and Puen as a character doesn’t translate thoroughly, but it does speak to how memory can play into his character without having flashbacks

i am going to just lean on the writers for creating a character that is very understanding and is the first to apologize and easily forgiving; without having moments to dispute this otherwise, this is a character trait he has, but not necessarily something he needed to work on i wonder if there’s a place in their og universe Puen disappears to when he’s struggling with something, that is unique to him (rather than using the same locations shown in the show so far)

HE’S A SELFLESS MAN WHO WANTS TO BE SELFISH FOR ONCE

his loneliness hasn’t hardened him or made him bitter, it has made him childlike in return

perpetually orphaned

reminds me of when heedo told her mom she was still thirteen; i think in many ways, he’s stuck there and it showed in moments when he wanted to be taken care of

there's something to be said about having the biggest angst/fight between them in midnight black be resolved in the love interest lens; meaning, the most important details about Puen’s life/motivations were vocalized through Up and Pang, in their respective scenes with Talay (instead of carrying out the turmoil through Puen, in the romantic lead lens)

we learn the full extent Puen is willing to fight to keep this life for himself, when Talay has previously fought so hard to ensure Puen’s return to their universe, and Puen wrestles with this selfish (and very understandable) revelation offscreen until we get to the island scene

after all this, is there something he learned from universal traveling? thinking back to the point i made about never voicing his needs - i think this was where growth happened, when he asked Talay if he could be that person to wake up to; that singular, pivotal moment of being vulnerable enough to ask someone to be their person???? no wonder it's the one scene he writes into a script ITS SO GENUINELY ROMANTIC

There is love in holding. And there is love in letting go. the Friend Credit subplot didn’t serve as a vehicle to motivate the portkey/universal travel plot forward; even less so for Puen’s ideal life with Pakorn’s parents, but the letting go of both was FKJLSKDJLSKDF inhales that…. it’s the grandest romantic gesture and greatest character moment for Puen as a romantic lead

his last act before leaving the universe was writing his name, letting go of the last thing he kept for himself; it being written in the earth of the universe that was his home, instead if it being spoken, is so LOUD

As we go into the last ep, the one character moment I am looking forward to seeing is how much of his life as Tun will be carried into his life as Puen. In the AU, being Tun was his way of being his most authentic Puen and now that he’s back in his own body, how does Puen change to carry Tun with him from this point forward? I do have points laid out below, when it comes to Puen’s return as an actor, but will we see further growth in establishing self worth? We shall see.

If this wasn’t long enough, I have broken down the character analysis further, by ep under the cut. It’s a marathon, so pls take breaks and stretch your legs when you can.

PART II - PUEN, THE CHARACTER THAT YOU ARE —

DISCLAIMER: I am utilizing much of my thoughts/explanations with context to later episodes, instead of what we learn about Puen within the timeframe/scope of the episode itself. In short, this is me breaking the character moments down with the information revealed later in the series.

OCEAN BLUE - 1a. Mainly showcases Puen through Talay’s POV, which gives love interest vibes alone. But what we did take away from his two brief scenes is how he interacts with his fans vs those he works with (well, there is no difference, he treats everyone with the same kindness and respect). We also know now that he keeps everything his fans gift him in his apartment, which speaks to how he cares for his fans; is there an element of sentimentality for him? Sidenote: he is tooootally the type of person that would have one thoughtful, nice interaction with a stranger and then think about that moment/person for at least a week 1b. Gawd, the professionalism of this man; you can sense how level-headed he can be in between takes. What is his rapport as an actor? We know him to be a superstar, enough to gain recognition to star in an international film and represent his country, but does the industry like him? Is he a pleasure to have on set?

FOREST GREEN - 2a. Puen’s entry into the other universe; how blessed we are to have a show give us THREE distinct events where PuenTalay meet each other again and again anew; instantly, Puen is surrounded by people, but i think the scene plays out beautifully; in that, while meeting Pang again later was special to him, Puen too felt that, in meeting Talay and Talay asserting himself as someone Puen can trust, the meeting was special to him too 2b. What’s this? a flashback that serves more as a Puen POV, rather than a Talay POV? there’s not much to take away from this short scene, but I wanted to establish a romantic lead POV shift, even if its only in a flashback scene; the rest of the episode exists with Puen in scenes with Talay and we don’t get a moment alone with Puen until the next episode

SOFT BLUSH!!! - I think the short, drunk narrative doesn’t need to have a moment in this post, but it stands to be said that it was a necessary send off to a version of Puen - we need to see Puen shift from how he deals with his previous life to learning how to exist in this universe. 3a. NOW, Pinky Promise™ reference, with the wooden hand model, was pointed out by others in the tag, so I won’t speak too much into it; but loooooook! a full scene of our romantic lead, fleshing out the history and future of Friend Credits; although the scene is most carried out through a flashback of a character we don’t see again until the end of ep 10, we understand what aspects of Pakorn Puen needs to contribute to the friend group and the type of friend he needs to be for Up and Aou; i wonder if he read further into Pakorn’s journals/studied them

3b. What is this?? ANOTHER solo scene of our ROMANTIC LEAD PUEN???? I love that the show gives us this moment: the beginnings of this friend group with Puen; it’s an important gesture (as opposed to how tess treated Talay’s friends), to truly want to make amends with Up and Aou; after this, we rarely see moments with just the three of them outside of Friend Credit shenanigans, but at least we had this 3c. A perfectly normal reaction to learning that Talay is single in your area.

DEEP MAGENTA, MY BELOVED! 4a. He’s SO perceptive about portkeys; “Hasn’t it occurred to you that the key to finding the portkey is love? […] What if to go back, you must fall in love with someone? What if it’s me?” - and it DOESN’T STOP - “I’ve been thinking about lots of things lately. About going home and about work. Everything is related to love. […] So I want to know a little more about love.” (the therapy bills are just piling up) That deep breath he takes, that pause, the way his hands hold together like that… PRECIOUS TO ME 4b - T: “Want to get married too, don’t you? P: “That’s normal, isn’t it? Of course, I think about it sometimes.” Interesting moment to contrast two character moments in that conversation; Talay thinking about the video presentation, saying he would like to color the video vs Puen thinking about his potential partner; also when Puen catches the bouquet vs Talay shielding himself from it (just like the RV scene when Puen points out that Talay shouldn’t just plan for the future alone)

side note: GUYSSSSSS, it didn’t occur to me until now that the music playing during the wedding video is the same as when they reunite in the glass house in the end of this ep AND in Talay’s fantasy reunion with Puen in ep 12 outside the building), APPALLED AND UNWELL

Jumping forward to the scene after the toss, when Talay reflects on their ongoing conversation about falling in love: P: “We can just fake it.” T: “No.” P: “Why not?” T: “Love isn’t something you can fake.” P: “Of course, we can. I faked it all the time when I was an actor.” T: “Then you fake it with someone else. Leave me out of it.” It’s an interesting take on having to artificially manufacture the elements required for both as inspiration for a screenplay and conjuring a portkey into existence. Do I believe there’s some hiding happening, in that he is using screenwriting as an excuse when Talay repeatedly turns him down? When Talay gets upset about the big spray paint display, there is a moment of hesitation. We know he was already falling, but this is a love interest moment. It’s creating friction for the Talay narrative. But if I switch over to Romantic Lead!Puen lens, I wonder if the moment after Talay says stop messing with me, he was going to confess something. However, Talay cuts him off.

4c. Let’s pause to take a 5 min break, you’ve already sat through likely 20+ min of my ramblings. Plus, let’s looks at one of Puen’s best looks as Tun… it’s a good look, lbr. Theyre all good looks - guys. shhh just look

4d. Anyways, at the end of the ep: P: “I just… wanted to know the feeling when I really love someone.” In hindsight, THIS REALLY HURTS YK??? He’s on his way there, albeit misguided. But how fascinating it is to point that out, diving into those emotions like an actor would in researching a role, except the lines are blurring. “But I want you to know that if it’s not you, I wouldn’t be able to work this well.” I am going to come back to this when we talk about ep 11. 4e. Now, that kiss… “There’s one more thing about the characters that I still don’t understand.” “Are you messing with me again?” “Not messing with you this time.” We jump to ep 5, the scene as a flashback continues with Puen confirming, “I kissed you because I felt like kissing you.” That’s mah BOY!!! Baby’s first real moment in acting on his feelings, not from his acting experience. Still misguided, in ways I can't express right now, but what a big step in his journey to learning more about love.

WINTER WHITE - 5a. the way I love a Bookstore Scene!! It’s such an understated character moment, when Talay is taking a genuine interest in Puen life. He’s not used to someone being curious about his likes/dislikes, especially coming from someone he really likes. We know the many future instances he turns Talay down in revealing something personal about his life, but ever the same, it’s so worthwhile to capture moments of unease/hesitation for Puen. VV showcases more of Talay’s journey in Puen rocking his foundation and keeping him on his toes, but we rarely see the many little ways Talay does the same for Puen. 5b. SOLEMN FACE!!! “The series crew got him a nickname.” GAWD, he - inhales This was him at least five years ago, around 18/19? “Because he always made a cold and solemn face on set.” IM SADDDD. As I mentioned before, I see him as someone who keeps an ear open to those he cares about, even if it’s not people he regularly keeps in touch with. By either osmosis or just seeking out news every once in a while, idk. Interesting thing to point out that he wants to give up acting while in the AU. In some ways, maybe he wanted to retain as much of Tun’s life as possible. But there is something to be said about staying away from a life he wasn’t happy in.

Before I move onto the next ep - “I’ll be the guy who lives with you.” MY GUY, RELAX! And then, when Talay is the one to hold his hand One (1) Time, Puen is just ready to move in together PFFFFT head in hands

5c. I know this is a post about Puen, but HI BABYYYYYY!!!!!! uhhhh PINK?????? FJSLDFKJSLKDF (btw this is a callout post to everyone who watched part 4 and made the most-played part of the video the preview for ep 6, where jimmy is shirtless with the shaving cream…. Valid, but STILL)

FIRE YELLOW - 6a. SOLEMN FACE RETURNS [crowd goes “awww :( “] Do I agree that it’s a good character take, that he prefers working anywhere with Talay over actually getting a job?? MMMMMMMMM idkkkk. 6b. “A life of doing things alone was not fun at all.” Now, THAT’s something. What a throwaway line that tells so much in so few words. Sure, he’s still shaken by Friend Credits disbanding, but he’s really trying to drive himself away from falling back into his old life: doing this alone. Yes, he now resides with Pakorn’s parents, but he’s really hoping to bring the group back together somehow over anything else.

We’ve all had our collective moments with Puen’s fantasy at the top of ep 6, so I won’t dwell into the specifics of the dialog, but it is a great character moment in how he paints Talay in his fantasy. From our initial reaction, not realizing it was a fantasy until we are brought back out of it, it was that blatent: he loves Talay exactly the way he is. Nothing about Talay felt out of character, which also extended to how their banter played out. Of course, there were moments that made the fantasy obvious, but it got the point across. Our boy is down BAD.

6c. Oh the paradigm shift in ep6 [2/4], you will always be famous - the first instance where Puen starts saying, “my dad’s…” Already laying the groundwork in the upcoming turmoil in wanting to stay. I speak more on this below when I dive more into Puen’s goodbye to Pakorn’s parents. 6d. I often wonder how long Puen has thought about writing that next screenplay about their lives. And I think a lot about the motivation behind it, bringing something so personal into existence. It’s not so different from what writers of all media do normally (which, wow that’s something to think about if Puen eventually steps away from acting to become a screenwriter full time; he’s already a natural at it)

6e. After learning that he truly fell since glass house, i think joob’s death really spooked him. perhaps even moreso that Talay, but we didn’t see it that way when the episode aired. the scene to me played out as a love interest scene at first, but it really is a good romantic lead moment. And then in ep 7, not telling Talay how he feels, while Talay is pushing him towards Pang???

SUNSET ORANGE - before we get started, let’s take another break. Rest your eyes for a minute, drink some water. But also, Scent kink? In my thai bl???

7a. Okay let’s continue - “HASN’T IT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU THAT I’M YOUR PORTKEY?” “IF YOU ARE, WE’D BE BACK BY NOW.” WHY ARE YOU TWO SO LOUD BUT SO STUPID 7b. “People think I’m perfect. I can take care of myself.” Having it be spoken so plainly, instead of show us evidence of this in more flashbacks (rather than seeing that through gyo’s/fans’ eyes… is something). “I’m just a man who can be weak and needs care.” That moment after Talay teases him about it, I COULD KISS IT. He’s taking the necessary baby steps in vulnerability and my son Talay is teasing him… SIGH “Not many see this side of me… You’re one of them.” Just how many people out there has he opened up to, outside of Pang? And how have these people come in and out of his life? Are they all from work?

7c. We now know what he wrote, I’M FINE BTW (lying). The next scene plays out in them having a moment to themselves and Puen steers the conversation to them, but never pressuring him to like him back. In a moment where he can act on his emotions, and Talay wants him to, his final thoughts are always Talay. His wish being the most selfless, unspoken thing… SEDATE ME. He doesn’t just write that he wishes Talay to fall in love with him, but the unspoken intention of giving a piece of his declaration the moment his wish comes true??? His wish isn’t to hear “I love you”, it’s to be able to say “I love you, too.” I am no longer fighting demons, I am sending them my therapy bills and they’re pissed.

7d. [Oh NOOOOOooo the bg music for their almost kiss scene is the same as their glass house reunion scene STAHP] 7e. Jimmy, the actor you are…

7f. Small side tangent, but I wish there were more moments of having the both of them start to pick up habits/mannerism in their scenes together, rather than have it always be recalled in flashbacks (ex: Pang’s scene about the Talay palette and then again in Puen’s flashback to learning about pantone with Talay) 7g. MY PATHETIC WET KITTEN - to me, it’s both an important character moment AND a important trait for a blorbo

Back in Aug, after ep 7 aired, I was discussing the progress of the show with beloved mutual @lulabo and she pointed out how “jimmy’s doing interesting work in that I still don’t know who Puen IS outside his relationship to Talay and so far that hasn’t gone anywhere. he’s SO enigmatic it should be a point of contention” and my response:

Currently, I feel the needle moving a bit since my last response. I still feel strongly about this, however there are several aspects of his work in the month without Talay that reveal his screenwriting and acting produced improvements in the eyes of his peers, due to his time with Friend Credits.

CLOUDY GRAY - 8a. I don’t really see him as a jealous type of person, esp having Mek really having no connection to Talay in their universe. Hmm… Was having one rejection too many really getting to him? Me thinks this was his first trial in this universe fighting to maintain a connection with someone and us witnessing something he has perhaps experienced in his previous life, with people falling out of his orbit. He just wants to be wanted and he’s so CLOSE. 8b. It would at least explain his expression when Talay finally confesses that he likes him. Something something to be chosen again and again. Some of us are single, gmmtv.

MIDNIGHT BLACK - so… that pillow scene

9a. That moment when he was eating by himself - my first real glimpse at a scene of him ALONE alone, perhaps his natural state back home. Did he feel more himself at this moment or did it feel strange? We don’t get many moments where we stay on him for a great length of time, just existing. It was a fleeting moment before we see the birthday scene play out, but i will cherish this small bubble of me meeting this side of him 9b. Their biggest fight, being Puen’s desire to stay, was written as a roadblock for Talay (and so to me, a love interest moment); it was still a character moment for Puen, since it transitions from his birthday scene into them talking about his birthday wish and at the end of the fight, the camera stays on him (instead of following Talay out)

9c. When he gives Talay a piggyback ride without explanation, I think this is when I also fell in love with the character; the show and the writers are finally giving him the depth I was seeking earlier in the series (since we don’t get flashbacks to their former life). If I loved it less, I would be able to talk about it more ;; 9d. I can’t believe up until now, Talay believed that their time together was going to stop once they return to their universe. My son, what.. huh lol do you not understand how down BAD Puen is for you??? SO I ALWAYS THOUGHT - I WANTED TO WAKE UP AND SEE THAT SOMEONE WAS WAITING FOR ME. CAN YOU BE THAT PERSON FOR ME? [………………………… user talaypuens flatlined for a few seconds but shes back] Okay soooooo anyways, that is a Scene. a Scene that doesn’t change the course of everything in this universe and their own. Nope. It’s not like it sets in motion their pinky promise to find each other… or that it improves Puen’s acting career in ways that not only received praise from those in his industry but a moment that Talay needed to hear from him and run back to him. It’s a completely normal, romantic lead scene.

9e. [INCOHERANT SOBBING] EXCUSE ME, DID YOU BUY THAT BEFORE OR AFTER THE PINKY PROMISE; seriously, i need to study his brain.. when the braincells work, they WORK. how did he connect the dots about the theme of an hourglass representing universal travel?? HOW??? Does he know this did psychological damage to my brain when it was explained as a flashback for Talay? PSYCHOLOGMICAL. DANAJ. 9f. We’ve already sang our praises how this reveal played out, but im giving it it’s moment here because i love the editing in the latter part of the series. They included more of Puen’s POV in their scenes together, giving us more glimpses into his thoughts/motivations that we didn’t get earlier on. Getting the screenshots of them in the bathroom… i was fighting demons,,,,, DEMONS

[WHY IS THIS POST SO LONG, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME…. let’s not unpack all that]

PINK - Mek really said get your gay fantasy out of my script fjlskdkfjsl;d Mek can have some rights but also...

10a. The maturity and speed in which Puen reconciles with saying goodbye to the life he loves. I think I seriously love him… I often think about how different this show could have been if the Pakorn family dynamic was the whole of it, in place of the Friend Credits subplot. Of course, we needed to keep the “improving their bodies’ lives” narrative, but as heavy as this scene was, it had potential to just SHATTER ME BEYOND REPAIR. It was more like a treat into a character moment for Puen, rather than a reward for the journey. Since we have sat with the revelation about Puen being orphaned for a short time, we have come to care for Puen long enough to be destroyed by the scene of him saying goodbye to his surrogate universe parents. To somewhat be able to leave them with a soft confirmation that even if he wasn’t Pakorn, they’d still love him, if not more. I SOBSSSS 10b. In the week leading up to ep 11, I fully thought that Puen dreamed and didn’t tell Talay. I also knew this would be so out of character for him, but I wanted to find some meaning for the last scene they had together and what the motivation was behind finally wanting to tell his name. It almost felt like the place they chose to camp at was his dream location and when the big reveal happened for the switch, it made me feel like he ran out of time before leaving. I mean, why else would he himself bring up the dialog “Though we aren’t together tomorrow, you’re always here in my memories” uh…. ow????? and you expect me to think he wasn’t saying goodbye to Talay?

oh gawd i need a moment before diving into Real Red, I - inhales take a moment to stretch your legs again while i have a mild breakdown, maybe do a few neck stretches?

REAL RED - 11a. I need to preface this by giving all of my love to those who made [1/4] all 25+ min of it a POWERHOUSE. The editing between both universes were perfectly balanced in pace, emotional weight, and dialog. There were moments left unspoken that just made my heart SING. I just - MWAH. And it all starts with Puen’s return to their universe and the scene that alone deserves at least 3 oscars for acting, directing, and best foreign language - short subject.

The very first night back in his apartment - I imagine that he didn’t get any sleep and mostly it might be due to missing Talay, but some part of me thinks about the idea of sleeping in a strange place and the difficulty of sleeping in a different bed; could he have felt the same sensation here, after feeling more at home in the other universe? did he ever feel like he was back to sleeping in his own bed?

11b. In my red color analysis post, I took a moment to mention the cubby in Puen’s apartment and how that speaks to his character. That prompted an ask, which created this Puen brick of an analysis post. [We have finally made our way, woo!] That is to say, knowing for weeks that Puen has no one in his life, no personal connections outside of work, speaks to the little corner of praise in his apartment. It’s not organized in any particular way and no item is displayed with more attention than the others. It just is and it’s in plain sight when he w- IS THAT AN ALPACA PLUSHIE??????????? He doesn’t have people over, so it doesn’t need to be hidden or tidy. He doesn’t (often?) throw any of it away, it just appears to accumulate. It is made even more poignant by the positioning of where the hat is on the shelf, just out of sight for two years. He appreciated the gift and placed it in the cubby where all the other love he receives goes and that was that. Good thing he has a really good memory, because that small moment, that token given by a fan’s best friend, that memory brought him home.

11c/11d. He’s done so much in a month, I wonder how much of what he claims to have done was also done by Pakorn. Does it really take less than a month to write, film, record, and premiere a movie? In that time, he’s done so much with Talay written all over it. He’s screenwriting, writing in a scene that he experienced with Talay, he’s singing a song that he learned from Talay, Talay, Talay, Talay. He’s outputting so much of their love into their universe, it’s only right that the universe screams it back. Remember back in my ep 4 pointers, when he said if it wasn’t Talay he would not have worked as well?? Look at how the universe is rewarding him for this love. The cherry on top is having Talay fight to get his life back on track, with it having nothing to do with his feelings or connection to Puen, and it brought them together nevertheless. Puen’s speech even didn’t have any motivation to reach Talay’s ears; he didn’t even think that Talay was there in the building, let alone in their universe. Puen does these things out of so much love, confident that they will be together again someday. I hope he’s also finding some moments of joy in the process. He deserves to get excited about doing all these things, instead of feeling trapped again.

11e/11f. I mentioned above about how the suit seems to change the way Jimmy plays up Puen the actor. Now, I don’t know Jimmy well enough to see if there’s a distinction between actor Puen and actor Jimmy, so I only see Puen. And here, I love seeing how he carries himself in front of Talay, still thinking it’s Tess. There’s something about how he presents himself in front of the face of someone he loves, but knows and acts like it's someone else. I mean, don’t we all act differently in front of different people? But this is Vice Versa, and we are here to witness the shift in Puen when he turns away, saying goodbye to Tess and then turning back around and seeing Talay in his home body. For the first time, AGAIN. HE CRIED, TALAY CRIED, I CRIED, WE ALL CRIED.

-

I am writing this on the eve of the finale. Who knows Crystal Clear will bring (besides tears because who am i kidding), but this undertaking into Puen as a character was the perfect send off for me. I have seen him, or a version of him, claim something that Puen at the beginning of the series would not have fought as hard to keep. He’s kept people away for so long, not knowing how to ask to be cared for. But I enjoyed seeing that development in seeking Talay out again and again in ep 11, going to Tess over and over. And when he finally stepped back, just letting it be and working until Talay would eventually reach out to him, that restraint too is growth. The confidence in their love… And in loving Talay, where that love will continue to carry into his work until Talay returns, it has already started to make waves in the industry. I am sure future projects will only further his fame and we know it will not change him. Because he’s Puen. I am so happy for him and I love him so dearly.

In conclusion, he’s baby.

[huenjin]

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu. 

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high. 

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa. 

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts. 

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him. 

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again. 

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?" 

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting." 

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head. 

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?" 

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air. 

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?" 

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him. 

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you. 

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain. 

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments. 

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position. 

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp. 

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now. 

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up. 

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains. 

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much. 

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain. 

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains. 

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy. 

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder. 

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink. 

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning,  "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited! 

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic. 

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man. 

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake. 

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while. 

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him. 

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster. 

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs. 

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin. 

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own. 

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly. 

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. 

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together. 

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans. 

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger. 

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth. 

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder. 

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body. 

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been. 

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically. 

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you. 

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him. 

“Hey,” you say and smile. 

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology. 

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend." 

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

[dracowars]

LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

[craacked-splatters]

Mismatched twins au ramble continuation!!: ch3

Warning spoilers for those who haven't read it yet.

Under the cut!

Edit: 1/2) NOO I didn't mean to post this already😭 im gonna come back and fix it after work

2/2) I fixed it now

Ch3:

Yep yep yeppers

Leon's denial and defensive response makes sense.

I mean it's not like the rise bois ever encountered alternates b4. I'd be skeptical too if someone came up to me and said they were my brother from another universe. And although the rise universe doesn't have a lot of enemies that wish for the bois heads on a spike, having that much similar info is still pretty alarming.

And he just lost his family a few mins ago and still coming to terms with it pretty sure. Having a different version of his twin standing right there next to him? Having a reminder of everything he loved and lost secs ago breathing right next to him? Man what a cruel joke.

Of course he's not going to accept that. he won't accept it. (Not yet lol)

And Dee's reaction😭 He acts so guilty about it.

"I didn't mean to upset you" bro😭

I love the fact he doesn't push or keeps insisting his own universes existence further when he notices Leon's reaction. He just answers when asked or states anything about his home the same way one would talk about the weather or a restaurant menu. It's all true but Dee's not about to fight over it. He's aware of the tension and he ain't gonna push it.

Not when they're hurt and alone and not when he sees Leon get so upset. (I don't think the thought of any Leo being upset would sit right with him, especially not if he's the reason for it)(*sniffs the air* *squints* angst🤨?)

[This interaction might not seem as much but I like it cuz loads of other crossover fics the turt groups always almost immediately accept thier situation. Like oh, ur me from another dimension yeah ok 👍. Granted all ninja turtle lives r crazy might as well happen yk lol?

But anyways yeah, it was a nice change to see, and it also helps highlight the serious danger they're in and Leon's inexperience to stuff like that. Hah bro is going thru it.]

The turtle finally looks up. Any confidence is gone, leaving a meek uncertainty that makes it really hard for Leo to keep being mad at him.

LMAO

This and the fact that Leon checks him off of being a potential villain is funny to me.

Look at this guy

Wet fruit gummy looking creature. Hes not even doing it on purpose either he just looks like that.

Dee testing the physics and landscape immediately to start piecing a plan is like second nature. He's got experience in traversing unfamiliar dangerous territory. He'll do what it takes to find anything that could give him intel or advantage.

Before this, I'd never realize how strange that would look to outsiders XD. All of Donnie's curiosity and poking makes sense, in order to learn anything one must head into the unknown, but to Leo he looks insane. (But then again, to be a true Donatello, u have to be a touch mad)

As much as the blantant horror has the writhing guilt making him want to throw himself off the edge for utterly ruining someone else’s day, he’s relieved that he’s finally getting through to him.

He wouldn't wish this whole thing, this death sentence, on anyone and it must suck knowing there's another victim in here with him suffering the same fate. The most he can do is let them fully understand how futile it is to try before he gets absolutely destroyed right?

You- you mean…” Something changes as he scans Leo’s face, overcome by disbelief. “They just… Left you here?”

RAHHHHHH OSIDHDGHSK

Leon in the back of his head probably: No of course they didn't leave me behind. I left them, which is sooo much worse

(in a way they kinda did leave him tho,not on purpose oh no NEVER. They would NEVER

But...

Something something the sacrifices of the hamato clan is never ending something something to become a hero is to lose pieces, chunks fragments even, of what makes up ur life and that includes ur home and the ppl around you)

It must sting knowing that his family's love wasn't enough to save him?

Also the contrast between Donnie's determination and Leo's defeat OOOOOH HO. Good very good

Oooh!! And! And

Leon's insistence on taking care of Dee's wounds despite his very understandable doubts & suspicion AND Dee extending the offer to help Leon escape if/when he figures out a way to leave AoUGH

They are good bois, with good hearts. The prison dimension will not be kind to them😔

Mismatched twins au ramble continuation!!: ch2

This is about @imagionationstation rottmnt and tmnt 2012 crossover au. Check it out over at @mismatchedtwins (lol I'm always gonna be promoting it)

Rambles under the cut! (So I don't clog up anyone's dash lmao)

Dee and Leons escape? Mhm yeah mhm👁️👁️

You totally captured that terrified desperate injured animal vibe. Leon's disorientation really sets out the "oh shit we're going to die" thing. Like it really introduces the absolute horrible dire situation both bois have landed up in to the readers. They're both separated from their fam, injured, and trapped in a wasteland with a bloodthirsty maniac.

Also this?

Leo needs it, so when he dies, he still has a chance to find Karai.

Ough. When u said Leon had accepted death already for himself ig I didn't register it completely?? Man what a slap to the face

He headed into the prison dimension fully expecting to meet his family in the afterlife huh? Ouch :((

Oooh and the contrast between Dee and Leon's handling of injuries! Dee's gentle, precise and thorough administrations🥺 (how many times did he do the same to his own family? Precise. Of course it is and of course it's gentle. Had plenty of practice before ending up there right? Must've been weird to check up on another version of his older brother like that tho. But I doubt Dee would just leave a Leo or any version of his other brothers hurt like that without at least trying to help. They might not be his, but bros r still bros yk? )

And Leon was able to keep up with Don's examinations even while he was wrecked! Very observant and he clearly took his medical studies to heart (Team medics💜💙) ( is leon actually medic in rottmnt? I actually can't remember 😔)

“Dude, you just wrapped me.” Leo remarks, amused by the glare that he earns. “Of course, I did. I had too.”

🥺

“But it’s different when you’re seeing your own?” Leo offers a cheeky grin. The turtle looks uncomfortable.

Is this bcuz he just saw his flesh and blood exposed to the open air like a few mins ago or? (I do wonder how bad the crisis he's gonna get(if he gets one) for the whole disintegrating body horror will be after the adrenaline and survival mode wears off)

Dee immediately after realizing he's in another dimension : 👁️👁️🎤📝

LMAO

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look of who’s coming over to say hello!”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch.  If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away.  Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.  

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p.  You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

[ichorai]

supervillains and unicorn bags ; j.wy

requested by @minghaofilm (36 + villain au) for my milestone celebration !!

pairing ; villain!wooyoung x scientist!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; concocting superhuman serums late at night was your job. dealing with an obnoxiously sparkly villain, however, was most definitely not.

themes ; fantasy, comedy, action, scientist au, villain au, superhero au

words ; 1.8k

warnings / includes ; cursing, weapons, one vaguely suggestive joke, a sLAP, handcuffs, wooyoung being a liddol shit and dresses gothcore x kidcore, surprise guest at the end :D yes he also appeared in gsabb <3

a/n ; my favorite piece i've written for my milestone event yet !! this is set in the same universe of goldstorm and bug boy! but can still be read separately :D wanna thank @subways-stuff for letting me ramble abt this fic cries

masterlist. fanart by @subways-stuff <3

You never worked this late. Not once in your life had you been in the lab past seven in the afternoon. Sure, your hours were long and winded, starting far before the sun crept out of hiding, but you’ve never been kept here for longer than you needed to be. Everybody had gone home, back to their families, probably having dinner or watching late night television. It was the weekend tomorrow, after all.

The lab was eerie when quiet. You could hear the sound of your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

I’ll go home after cross-infusing the last mutated virus strains, you mused whilst pushing away from the microscope with a lethargic sigh. Who knew concocting variants of superhuman serum from scratch would take so much out of you?

The artificial glow from the lights flickered above you, momentarily suspending the room in a shroud of shadows. You blinked once, and they flashed back on shortly afterwards. That was strange. The bulbs were just changed a week ago, you were there when the handymen came.

Something felt off. The air tasted stale.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when the doors to the lab flung open with a resounding bang, your head snapped up so quickly you were surprised you hadn’t given yourself whiplash.

Please just be Yeosang. Did he forget his jacket? Oh, shit, I don’t see any jackets laying around.

It was safe to say that the man standing by the doorway wasn’t anywhere close to your dry-witted coworker. He wore an extravagant eye sore of a villain's get up, a mesh between something you’d find on backhand EBay and dark leather that clung a little too tightly to his form. His tendrils were combed back, a faded blonde with the roots remaining dark as night. Purple eyeshadow with flecks of golden dust ringed his eyes, crinkled from his malicious grin. What was this, Doctor Strange? Was that a bejeweled collar he was wearing? Were those rhinestones on his boots?

You reared backwards at the sight of the… sparkly newcomer.

“Hands up!” he commanded with a beguiling smile, both his nail-polished hands raising to clasp together into a shooting position. “Just kidding, I don’t have a gun. Unless you count these.” The strange man pointed to his biceps with a salacious wink. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Who are you?” You were pleasantly surprised to find your voice steady, unafraid.

An eyebrow arched as he practically screeched out, “You don’t know me? What, have you been living under a rock?”

You honestly didn’t take any offense to his question because you really didn’t have much of a social life outside the lab. Working for superheroes expectedly forced you into a reclusive lifestyle. So, you shrugged with a slight grin, amused at his worked up state.

“Well, I’m Wooyoung. My villain name is Vaurien. Cool, right? Got that off of a random name generator. I think it’s French or something.”

You remained silent.

“I’m the man that stole the Eiffel Tower?”

You vaguely remembered that.

“I turned the Statue of Liberty neon green.”

You might have recalled seeing them talk about that on the news. It hurt your eyes seeing it on the screen, so you turned it off.

“I replaced the Great Wall of China with legos.”

You had to admit, that was funny.

None of that answered your question, though. Not really. “What do you want?” you finally asked, exasperated. Wooyoung seemed affronted by your lack of reaction at all the wondrously evil feats he’s committed, but he was quick to get over it when you shrugged your lab coat off. “I’m tired and I still have a lot of work to do. If you want to steal some chemicals, I’m sure we have some in the back storage for you. I’ll even hand you a key if you’d like.”

The flaxen-headed villain planted his fists onto his hips and glared at you. “First of all, that wouldn’t be stealing, that would just be you giving me what I want. Where’s the fun in that?” This time, you didn’t hold back the irked eye-roll. “Second, I’m looking for something a bit more valuable than ingredients for baking soda volcanoes… even though those were fun to make. Ever heard of superhuman serum?”

Raw terror clung to your bones, a sickly paste of darkness. In the wrong hands, this serum could destroy society as you knew it. He was a world-renowned villain (apparently), asking for the serum you’ve dedicated your life’s work to. Was now a good time to call for Captain Jongho? Would he be able to get you before you made a run for your phone laying across from you on the counter?

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wooyoung wrinkled his nose. “I like it when you lie to me.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say to that.

The sinking feeling in your stomach only worsened when he pulled out a gun一a real one一and held the sleek grey firearm steady, aimed right between your forehead. “Do you like it when I lie to you?”

You clenched your jaw, before swivelling your head to the sealed safe hidden behind a dozen passcodes and iron doors and ID keycards. “It’s down in the basement. Come with me.”

His eyes felt like daggers on the back of your neck.

“Stop staring at me.”

“Why? Do I make you nervous?” You didn’t appreciate the challenging tone in his inquiry, so you didn’t bother gracing him with a response.

Your fingers hurried to key in the last of the passwords onto the computer, a flustered flush dancing up your skin.

“CaptainJonghoCanThrowMeOffABridge666? That’s your password?” The supervillain cackled with gleeful laughter, doubling over whilst clutching at his stomach and propping himself by slinging an arm over your shoulder. You shrugged him off with an annoyed grumble. “Didn’t peg you as the type to have a crush on your boss.”

“He’s not my boss,” you were quick to reply, moving your eyes from the screen to gaze at Wooyoung defiantly. “I just work under him.”

“Hm, I bet you do,” Wooyoung commented snidely, to which you scowled.

Whatever scathing words you held on your tongue dissipated away when the large metal doors of the lab’s foolproof safe slid open a second later, revealing aisles upon aisles of different versions of superhuman serum. There went the days and nights where you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into working, all down the drain.

“You’re a peach, sweetheart,” Wooyoung gripped your fingers, pressing an over-exaggerated kiss to the back of your hand. A small part of you was amused at the faint lipstick mark he left on your skin, but your common sense ripped your limb away from him, instinctively arcing your palm through the air to swiftly land a resounding slap to his cheek. It probably hurt less than a dull flick to the supervillain, but he staggered backwards from pure shock. He cradled the cheek you had hit, staring at you with something akin to awe.

Then, a smile blossomed across his mouth. You hated how handsome he looked just then.

“I like you,” he said, then promptly rotated to stuff all the vials into a sparkly unicorn bag you hadn’t even noticed him holding.

You moved to follow after him, but let out an enraged groan when you found yourself tethered to the computer desk. The metal clamp was cold around your wrist. The kiss was a distraction to cuff you! You should’ve known.

“Sorry about that,” Wooyoung sent you a wink when he sauntered out, the safe now void of serum and his absurd bag bulging to the point of almost breaking. “The cuffs auto-unlock. They’ll come off in an hour.”

Pain flourished in your mouth as you physically bit down on your tongue to refrain from spitting out obscenities.

“A thank you would be nice.” You swung a kick to his shin, but he danced away before your shoe could land against his expensive leather suit. When he stuck his tongue out childishly, you could swear there was steam coming out of your ears. It surprised you when he took his gun and placed it right beside you on the table, a mischievous gleam in his molten irises. “I lied to you again. A teensy, tiny white lie. The gun isn’t loaded.”

This time, you didn’t stop the curses and obscenities from tumbling past your lips, tugging at your cuff as hard as you could. You willingly gave up a fortune’s worth of serum because he pointed an empty gun at your forehead! You’ve never felt more foolish in your life. “You fucking bastard! You won’t get away with this! Captain Jongho will find you, you know!”

“I’ll make sure to say hello to your boyfriend, then.”

“He’s not一!” you huffed, abruptly pausing yourself. “Fuck you, Vaurien. That serum doesn’t belong to you.”

Wooyoung bit down on his lip, staving away a bright smile. “You're right. It belongs to us.”

Confusion marred your features, but quickly faded away once another man materialized beside him.

“San!” Wooyoung exclaimed jovially. “I was just saying goodbye to the lovely Y/N here.”

The other man bore a striking resemblance to the infamous villain always making headlines on newspapers and appearing on television almost weekly. Last you saw of him, he had dark purple strands of hair, found by the police and tied up by the heroes Goldstorm and Spiderman. However, the strands on his head were cropped short and dark as ebony, complimenting the unnaturally green glow of his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to piece two and two together. He broke out of jail.

What did Vaurien and San want with the serum? What would Captain Jongho think of you for letting them get away with it?

“I thought we agreed not to use the unicorn bag?” San asked, but quickly waved the question away. “Doesn’t matter now. Thanks for the help, Y/N. We’ll be back soon.”

“We will?” Wooyoung brightened up (though you weren’t quite sure how that was possible), and swiveled his eyes to you. “You heard that? This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”

A bitter taste climbed up the back of your throat. “What an honor,” you spat out, dripping with sarcasm. Wooyoung’s grin only seemed to expand three-fold at your hateful disposition.

The two villains disapparated with naught another word in a flash of green light (but Wooyoung did send you another obnoxious flying kiss just before doing so, which you pointedly ignored). You wondered what Yeosang’s face would look like when he walks into the lab on Monday. What about Captain Jongho? You presumed you’d call him as soon as the cuffs unlocked themselves. Another deep-timbered groan exhausted your lungs as you dropped your head onto the table.

You were in deep shit now.