#the others even give in to peer pressure way too easily or are just naturally chaotic/a little too lax about the rules lol

[shepherds-of-haven]

Oh, if we’re talking about subtle hilarious SHOH moments… I always laugh at the scene during the briefing for Lockwood when Chase, Tallys, and MC are clowning Lavinet for sending such a huge cheque in the mail like “she’s SO naive lol we can cash this and she wouldn’t even be able to dispute it for weeks teeheee” and Shery is just like “…..is it naive for her to trust OFFICERS OF THE LAW not to swindle her??” and everyone just goes dead quiet.

Lol, I'd forgotten about that moment, thanks for remembering it for us! 😂😂 Sometimes the Shepherds are so chaotic that Shery--when she can forge past the excruciating experience of Being Seen--is the necessary moral compass that keeps them in check... the only one who can shame them...

[iid-smile]

hidden inventory students: headcanons

gojo, geto, shoko, haibara, nanami

gojo can scream in the most high pitched way ever. this usually happens when his ego gets to him during a mission and gets snuck up on from behind.

gojo has ripped his pants multiple times on different occasions. the worst one is when a girl he was flirting with dropped something, so he squats down and just like that, and rip right down the middle. he was wearing bright pink boxers with a pizza pattern btw... sometimes, he's not even shy about it.

gojo has the worst balance on trains. he has to lean against something or sit down because his legs shake like crazy. will always fall on the person next to him when the train stops, slow or fast it doesn't matter, even if the train doesn't move anybody else.

gojo frequently sends geto selfies with the most weird things. burnt food, ant's nest, inside of a truck, you name it.

when nobody's looking, geto pins back his bangs. he keeps a hairclip that shoko gifted him in his pocket, because he refuses to admit that they actually do get in the way.

geto has horrible back pain but the best posture. sits straight up as if he's been taped to the back of a chair. when he's walking? um... that's a different story.

geto matches other people's energy. it's not over the top, but he can adapt to all sorts of personalities and humour, both negatively and positively. it's most apparent with gojo and haibara. his whole entire mindset can change depending on who he's talking to.

geto has more haircare products than anything, not even skincare comes close. ask him about a particular shampoo or hair oil, and he can manage to go on a twenty minute rant about why you shouldn't buy it. never gives recommendations though (gatekeeper)

shoko laughs embarrassingly loud on purpose when anybody makes a bad joke. she does it most when guys try to catcall her or ask her out. also does it to gojo, but more as a joke because she likes how sulky he gets. it's actually kind of scary how she laughs too...

shoko hides her real cigarettes in a fake/candy cigarette box. may or may not keep an emergency lighter in there as well, but she doesn't know it's complete out. she does this so yaga doesn't find out she smokes.

shoko naps all the time during boring classes. poke her, shout in her ear, she will not wake up until something subconscious in her brain hears the school bell go off.

shoko prints off every photo she takes with a classmate. she sticks them on the wall of her dorm room, and separates them by person. the ones with utahime and meimei are put where she can easily see them and decorated with stickers. always puts a pink heart next to gojo's face for special reasons.

haibara is so overly positive it pisses people off. he always sees the good in people, so if a thief tries to rob him, he willingly hands his stuff over, because he always gives to "people in need". he gets upset when the thief gives him his stuff back and walks off.

haibara frequently compliment on how much people eat. we know his type is girls who eat a lot (i think) so he gets happy when somebody around him is just enjoying food and letting loose. doesn't really care if said person finds him weird, and he always buys them another little side dish or dessert.

haibara always looks out for other people. if he's in a crowded place like a party or amusement park, he always manages to find people at unexpected times and ask if they're okay/having fun. always checks the infirmary room just to make sure nobody's injured.

haibara is a natural magnet to children. somehow knows exactly how to play and communicate with them. maybe has siblings of his own, because he seems like the kind of guy that is the oldest of 5+ siblings yet still manages to have younger brother vibes.

nanami never poses for pictures. if he has to be in one via peer pressure, he stands straight, arms to his sides, and a grumpy look on his face (🧍‍♂️)

nanami spends a lot of time doing his hair. i know it doesn't look like he would, but he does. he uses a bunch of hairspray, so those strands do not move AT ALL. it's actually so hard and stiff if someone tries to touch it. because he puts so much, he has to wash his hair every day. legend has it that nobody's seen what his hair with no product looks like.

nanami has the worst attitude to those younger than him, but is so respectful to elders. like, it could be a whole 360 to what he's usually like. 90 degree bows, formal language and everything. bonus! shoko actually teases him the most about this.

nanami loves everyone in the group. dear, dear nanami... he's never open with his feelings. i don't think he could genuinely imagine his life being any more interesting than it is now if he hadn't joined jujutsu tech. it's not obvious, but he's always wishing the best for those around him. (we all know how that ended cough cough)

[liberxi]

We will be waiting faithfully, in case you are ready to share three ideas with us…

Alright, since you asked (and since I like talking about my writing way too much haha) I’m going to share some of my thoughts about the future of the 12th grade AU. All of them contradict each other and neither of them will ever be written, so please keep in mind that they are not canon in any way. Every reader’s guess is as valid as mine, so if you decide to read this, don’t let it influence your own headcanon! Also, given the fic this is obvious, but there is a discussion of sexual themes under the cut.

SCENARIO A: The Toxic One

Gerard and Frank actually move in together when they go to college as planned.

Things seem to be better now, because Gerard is more stable being away from his family and the peer pressure of his old friend group.

However, he still relies heavily on outside validation, because he is very insecure, which means he easily jumps on positive attention. It only takes a couple of weeks until he cheats on Frank for the first time.

Frank is obviously heart broken, but we all know that Gerard can be extremely convincing. He doesn’t even try to act remorseful, but tells Frank honestly that he loves him and that the sex with others doesn’t mean anything, which – in a way – is true. He talks Frank into opening their relationship, and Frank agrees, because they just moved in together and all of his plans for the immediate future hinge on Gerard and he is not ready to give up on it, and he knows that what they have is special and he knows that at least Gerard won’t leave him. He also knows that the relationship will be a lot more open on Gerard’s end than on his own.

Their relationship continues and it’s definitely still rocky. Gerard has a hard time fitting in at college, making friends, keeping up with his classes, etc. and he naturally takes his anger out on Frank. He is not as violent anymore though, so Frank accepts that as an improvement.

After a while on campus, Frank actually starts making friends, specifically other queer kids. In a way, he has an easier time fitting in at college than Gerard does and Gerard kind of resents him for it. Frank strikes up his first good friendship with another gay guy and there might be a bit of sexual tension between them, too, and he does his best to keep his friendship secret from Gerard, because he knows even though they are technically open, he will be punished for it. Even if Gerard won’t outright say so, he’ll make Frank feel bad about it and he’ll find other excuses to take his anger out on him.

One day they meet though and Frank is convinced he’ll be punished, but instead Gerard is the most charming motherfucker imaginable. He ends up actually seducing Frank’s friend into a threesome that leaves Frank feeling miserable. Afterwards, he acts all innocent like “I thought you liked him and I was doing you a favour!”, but Frank knows that it’s actually punishment and that Gerard simply won’t allow him to have anything of his own, because he wants Frank to be completely dependent on him.

Later Frank finds out that Gerard has stayed in touch with his friend behind his back and is hurt again, but Gerard immediately breaks it off in a “see, I would do anything for you, I’ll never talk to that guy again only so you’ll feel better!” way.

Frank’s friend actually approaches Frank to inquire about Gerard, because even though they only hooked up briefly, he noticed that Gerard is into power play and he’s worried about Frank. But after the threesome, things are so awkward between them, that Frank can’t be open with him and gets pretty defensive on Gerard’s behalf. Because it’s one thing for him to be critical of Gerard, but he doesn’t feel like anyone else has that right, because they don’t know him the way Frank does.

Frank’s friends start worrying about him more and plan an intervention. Things between him and Gerard have been so tense lately, that Frank is close to breaking down and asking for help, but then Gerard sends him the sweetest, filthiest message and when his friends see it, they conclude that Gerard is actually a lot different around Frank than around anyone else, open and vulnerable and they conclude they don’t have to worry about him. And Frank doesn’t know how to explain that Gerard actually knew exactly what he was doing with that message and that he uses his vulnerability to manipulate, but he can’t say any of that without sounding paranoid.

So he goes home to where Gerard is waiting for him all sweet and welcoming. And Frank realises he will never let him go. He will always give Frank just enough love and tenderness to make it impossible for him to leave, because he needs Frank, because Frank is the only one who can handle him at his worst. And Frank makes his peace with that, because it might not be the love he deserves, but at least it means Gerard will never leave him either.

Now, this story is pretty dark and I trashed it before even finishing the original fic, because I felt like it did not do justice to the character growth they already underwent. What would have interested me in this plot is mostly the interaction with outsiders to a toxic relationship. In 12th grade, Frank is already an outsider without much of a support system to being with and therefore an easy target. So I was interested in exploring the ways in which Gerard would make sure that he would stay isolated as they changed their social environment in college. But again, while I think that is an interesting question, the fic itself already outgrew that scenario.

SCENARIO B: The (Relatively) Healthy One

This one would be set about two years into the future, during which they didn’t stay in touch at all. Frank has gone through a lot of therapy and he has a boyfriend now, with whom he is in a healthy and stable relationship. He has some trouble with intimacy, but his boyfriend is very understanding about it.

Then pretty surprisingly, he runs into Gerard at some art school exhibition one of his friends is participating in. Gerard is rather shy, but Frank immediately pulls him in for a hug. He feels ridiculously relieved to see Gerard and it just feels right to be close to him again and he knows that’s messed up, but it’s like he has become this big scary thing in his past that he kept running from and facing Gerard actually makes him feel safe, because he no longer has to be scared of just that, and it’s all very messy and complicated.

They sneak out for a smoke and have a very honest conversation. Although they haven’t spoken in so long, Frank feels like they still have this thing going on where they can just be open with each other, because they get each other. Gerard asks him honestly if he messed Frank up, because he’s been worried about that all this time. Frank tells him just as honestly that it’s difficult in his relationship, because he tends to get panic attacks, especially during physical intimacy. It’s the first time they actually use words for what happened between them. At the end of 12th grade, they are both able to finally acknowledge the abuse that took place, but they still don’t call it that. This has changed now, at least Frank is more open about it, and although it obviously pains Gerard, he makes a point out of listening, because he owes that much to Frank.

After that, they also reflect on the more positive aspects of their relationship and they talk about their regrets. Frank says that he regrets not telling Gerard that he loved him at a point where he might have said it back and Gerard tells him that he probably wouldn’t have said it back anyway, even though that’s how he felt. He also confesses that he regrets never eating Frank out and Frank gets really flustered by that. Gerard asks if he even likes it and Frank owns up that he doesn’t know because he never tried before and they end up talking about his sex life some more. He admits that part of the problems with his boyfriend are due to his ptsd, but that his boyfriend is pretty vanilla at the same time and that it bothers him. He always liked Gerard’s rough treatment and just because he’s been through some shit doesn’t mean he is unable to decide what he can handle now. Gerard is absolutely scandalised that anyone would have the chance to give it to Frank good and just not do it and that gets Frank even more flustered.

He invites Gerard to a gig he is playing soon, but Gerard tells him that he doesn’t really want to see him. He confesses that he can’t stop thinking about kissing Frank and he doesn’t want to try being his friend when Frank has a good relationship going on and it might just complicate things. Frank is sad, but he has to admit that Gerard has a point, because he is also attracted to him in a way he does simply not feel with his boyfriend.

They part, but a week later, Gerard shows up to his gig anyway. Frank realises how much he has changed. He is no longer the centre of attention in his friend group, but fades into the background and seems more shy, but also a lot calmer in general. He’s actually wearing a skirt to the concert, showing that he’s more comfortable with expressing himself these days and less worried about people’s opinions of him. He tells Frank that he changed his mind and that he did want to support him as a friend and not stay out of his life for selfish reasons.

Frank asks him to come along drinking with his friends and things quickly turn awkward, because they stay so close to each other and clearly have such an intense chemistry that everyone mistakes Gerard for Frank’s boyfriend and Frank constantly has to go “ahaha, no, that’s my ex actually, my boyfriend is over there”.

It’s clear that the situation isn’t feasible in the long run, but they try to become friends. They hang out a lot and tell each other stuff very honestly. Other than Frank, who really craved a stable and supportive relationship after what happened with Gerard, Gerard has decided that he’d be better off on his own. He’s sleeping around occasionally though and tells Frank about it, which basically drives Frank crazy with jealousy and want. He’s so head over heels for Gerard again, that he eventually breaks up with his boyfriend.

He basically just wants to jump Gerard’s bones immediately, but Gerard insists that they take it slow. They actually go on a couple of dates and do the actual dating thing they never got to do in high school when things were so messed up. Eventually, they sleep with each other and it isn’t vanilla at all, but very consensual and Frank finally feels good about what they have.

This one is the healthiest take, since they actually become friends first and learn to communicate instead of trying to solve everything through sex. They also acknowledge everything that went wrong in the past and are both relatively stable, even though it’s clear that Frank has found his footing a bit better at college, where he has picked up music again and build a solid friend circle. Gerard is more at terms with himself, but also more introverted and clearly still depressed. It’s still something that they share though and that makes their relationship so genuine.

SCENARIO C: The Dramatic One

This one follows a three-act structure with 12th Grade being the first part! The second part is set about two years into college and follows a similar premise as Scenario B. They run into each other again after not having had contact in all this time and the attraction is instantly mutual again. Gerard is now in his Black Parade era.

Frank has carved out a nice life for himself at college, build up a friend circle and he is sharing an apartment with Ray, who is not too happy to see Gerard back in his life again. Gerard on the other hand is still quite unstable.

Gerard has gotten heavily into the bdsm scene in the meantime, and he specifically explored his own submissive side more. He’s actually quite hesitant to get back into it with Frank, because he doesn’t trust himself. During their first times together, he gets Frank off, but keeps his own clothes on. Later, they start exploring things more, and especially when Gerard is upset, he asks Frank to hurt him. Their dynamic is definitely different now and Gerard has learned a lot about consent in the meantime. They both switch, but their sex can mostly be described as consensual, but not safe or sane. Ray will often enough come home to noises that make him believe his apartment will one day be an actual murder scene, but he gave up on trying to fix whatever messy thing they have going on.

Whatever it is, their sex life is actually bomb, but that’s pretty much the best thing about their relationship. Gerard is struggling with a serious drinking problem. It doesn’t turn him violent, but often enough, he’ll just pass out next to Frank. He still does that thing where he tries to run away from his problems, he switches courses, projects, friend groups, etc. Sometimes, he will also just disappear for days or even weeks at a time, but Frank has learned to know that he’ll blow up if he doesn’t let him go and he always comes back. They fight a lot and although their fights aren’t violent, neither of them is especially happy in the relationship.

They try to take a desperate road trip together like old times to patch things up, but they have to accept that they aren’t really able to help each other. Gerard gets a scholarship for an art program in a different part of the country and he takes it, running once again and hoping that things will get better elsewhere. They break off all contact.

The third part is set about 10 years after 12th grade. Frank has been in a happy, stable relationship for years and just got engaged to his boyfriend. There is just one problem. That last, desperate road trip he and Gerard took when they were 20 to fix their relationship? Yep, they got hitched in Vegas and never bothered to get a divorce.

Frank now has to explain to his fiancé that he needs to get a divorce first and at first, he is amused. But then he figures who Frank is married to and starts freaking out a little. The thing is, Frank has told him about his first love Gerard and all the good times they had together. He also told him about the abuse he experienced in high school and the messed up relationship he had in college. He had, however, never made it clear that those people were in fact all one and the same. His fiancé is naturally questioning Frank’s sanity, because how could he be so fond of someone who hurt him that badly?

Anyway, Frank is dead set on getting married and leading a happy life with his boyfriend, who is nice and boring and stable. He has no idea how to contact Gerard, who just disappeared from his life, but he manages to get in touch with Mikey, who tells him that Gerard is now living in LA as a comic book artist. He is very nervous about calling Gerard, but he does and it’s surprisingly easy to explain the situation and Gerard doesn’t make it a big deal. He promises to come up to New York soon to sign the papers.

They meet at a diner. Gerard is now in his Danger Days era and Frank is quite honestly blown away, but hey, he is engaged! He hands the papers to Gerard, who is very nonchalant about it and wants to sign them immediately, pointing out how they were just kids and all that, and Frank is hurt that it seems to mean so little to him. So he calls Gerard out on it and asks him to not act that indifferent. Obviously neither of them got the divorce so far, because they were still kind of attached to each other and weren’t able to let go of the last thing connecting them. And Gerard puts down the pen and is like “you are right, Frankie, I do care. Let me meet him at least before I sign, so I can tell you are in good hands”.

Frank is hesitant but also kind of relieved about the delay, so he asks Gerard to come home with him to introduce him to his fiancé. And obviously, this is where things go to shit. Gerard is charming and a flirt and Frank’s fiancé is kind of into him and takes the whole thing a bit too lightly, half joking that they were married after all and that maybe they’d feel better about letting it go if they banged it out one last time. He definitely noticed the tension between Frank and Gerard, but clearly didn’t expect to set off an explosion.

Frank and Gerard start fighting immediately. Frank’s fiancé is shocked, because he doesn’t understand that for them, arguing and violence and sex are weirdly tangled up and he thinks he actually triggered something dangerous. Their fight is really just a struggle for dominance though and Gerard quickly gets the upper hand. They did this so much in college that they easily fall back into it and Frank basically goes under deep pretty much instantly. His fiancé freaks out, because he’s never seen Frank like this before and Frank realises that he put him off by letting him see too much of the “real mess” he is, which he kept hidden from anyone but Gerard in all these years. He has a panic attack that his fiancé also doesn’t know how to deal with. Gerard could easily swoop in and tear up their whole relationship, but instead he gives Frank’s fiancé very clear instructions on how to care for him and leaves before anything serious happens. His fiancé cares for him and calms him down, but he is obviously shaken.

Once Frank has it together again, he finds the signed divorce papers on the table and realises that Gerard has run off once again. He tries to patch things up with his fiancé for another day, but there is obviously something wrong. He wants to break up with Frank, because he realises how much Frank kept hidden from him in their relationship, about his past, about his preferences, all that stuff. His arguments are actually pretty reasonable, but all Frank hears is that his biggest fears have come true, that someone has seen him for who he really is and deemed him too much and unworthy of love.

His fiancé packs his bags and leaves and Frank is absolutely devastated, his mental health going to shit and he knows that he can’t be alone. He calls up Gerard, although he does not expect him to pick up, because disappearing is the one thing he’s good at. He does pick up though and Frank just says “he left me” and Gerard cancels his flight back to LA and shows up on Frank’s doorstep without hesitation.

He moves in without further comment, just getting Frank through the worst of it, making sure he eats and showers occasionally. Frank is convinced he’ll leave after a couple of days, but Gerard only goes home briefly to pick up his art supplies and more clothes and it becomes clear that he will stay as long as Frank needs him to, even though staying too long in one place and with one person isn’t his strong suit.

They just live together, so Frank doesn’t have to be alone. They are not really dating or sleeping with each other for the longest time. It basically mirrors the final part of 12th Grade, where Frank leaves with Gerard without question, because he needs him. And here we finally see Gerard doing the same – staying without question because Frank needs him.

Of course they eventually start having sex again, but it’s slow and weirdly natural. Frank is finally over his heart break enough to talk about it. He tells Gerard how he only ever wanted a family and that boring commitment that Gerard never seemed ready for and that it was more about that sense of safety than about the person, and he thought he finally found it, but apparently, it’s just not meant for him, because he’s too fucked up and doesn’t know how to be happy, etc. And Gerard just tells him that there is no need to get divorced after all and just for the time being, they already are a family.

Frank keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop though, because he knows Gerard and he knows he won’t stay. Eventually, Gerard tells him he has to go back to LA for his job and to his apartment, and Frank braces himself to be left behind. But then Gerard asks him to move with him. His apartment is bigger than Frank’s, he is a studio musician and will get more gigs in LA anyway and there is nothing holding him back. Frank is confused, because asking him to move into his space is very unlike Gerard. It means he’ll give up his retreat, so he won’t have a place to run to anymore, if Frank becomes too much and Gerard tells him that he’s finally done trying to get away.

He also tells Frank “I love you” for the very first time. He never said it during 12th Grade and not during their relationship in college either. Frank points that out and Gerard says “yeah, because the words are a promise and I didn’t want to give it unless I was finally sure I’d be able to keep it”.

They are definitely both fucked up in this and both feel like no one else would ever be able to put up with them, that’s why neither of them got the divorce in the first place. It’s not necessarily healthy, but by the end of it, they have matured enough to finally get more comfort than hurt out of each other’s brokenness.

[readingsbylibramc]

birth chart reading for @withallthingslove

hello! welcome to your reading. l'm gonna give you a quick overview of what l'm going to analyze about your natal chart. feel free to ask me anything if something isn't clear, of course. you'll find out your dominants' influence on your persona, your physical appearance, impression on others and the way you approach the world; your ego, identity, the real you; your reactions, your desires, inner emotions; your way of expressing your feelings, your mind and ideas; your desires and approach to love; your energy tank, instincts and temperament; in-depth analysis of each house with their rulers and analysis of heavy aspects; love life + soulmates/karmic partners interpretation; your relationship with your friends; your family life; your approach to career and work in general + possible jobs suggestion; your style, fashion sense analysis; life purpose and past life description; basic transits' analysis to describe your current mood and, last but not least, your secret skills, how to make the most out of your soul and manifest what you desire based on your birth chart.

🦋 chart shape, dominants

your chart is a locomotive shape. this means that you're a very ambitious person, with a lot of energy. saturn has a big influence on you, and your life revolves around understanding your feelings, your life purpose, your potential and emotional growth. the empty part of your life is what you have to develop, hence your family, financial life and also your self-esteem, your perception of yourself and your life.

your dominant planets are the sun, mercury and neptune. you are probably quite creative, or at least you have a passion for creative outlets; you may like music, reading, cooking, etc. you may be a trendsetter among your peers, or you may even become pretty well-known in your field. you are very sensitive and empathic, it comes natural for you to understand and absorb others' feelings. as a result, you might be quite introverted, you get tired easily when in social contexts.

your dominant sign is pisces. you're a genuine, caring person who loves daydreaming. it's a sort of way to escape reality, but it gives you an enormous amount of creativity. you also possess a strong intuition, which can make you have a sort of sixth sense.

your dominant element is earth. you're a loyal and stable individual. you value longevity in your relationships, and that makes you quite picky. you can easily appear as cold, as opening up to someone you don't know well is too much of a risk for you. once you do, though, you'll stay forever. money and material possessions are important for you, as you understand that financial stability is one of the main qualifications in life.

🌎 ascendant in aries, 15° / 2nd decan ruled by mars and the sun

your approach to the world is spontaneous, you don't like thinking before acting. you don't really do this with malice, though; you're just very honest. even though you appear really confident to others, you may find yourself feeling a little insecure. that comes from the fact that you're a perfectionist, even though you want to be perfect to show it to others rather than for yourself. hence, you feel pressured. even though you may appear as rude, once you get to know someone you truly care about you're willing to control yourself, just for them. that's how far you'd go for someone you love. physically, aries risings are usually very fast, active and athletic in general. you may walk fast, and you have quick reflexes. aries are fit; even if they're overweight, their body will still look good, with a nice and toned structure. you may have strong, almost masculine features: thin lips, thick eyebrows and lashes, broad shoulders, sharp nose... you also have a very provocative look in your eyes, making them magnetic too.

aries ascendant opposite libra mars: you easily come off as more assertive and arrogant than you actually are. this manifests both in your face and in your words. you could say things impulsively, and sometimes you're too blunt and hurt people's feelings. you don't do it on purpose, though, there's no malice behind your acts; it's just your natural way to express your opinions. on the other hand, you probably have a very strong charisma to you that makes you look very captivating and bold. people see you as a leader, and hence they could get intimidated by your presence. to cope with this placement, you can try controlling yourself and your words before speaking. I'm aware that it's a way to vent your anger, but you can find another way that doesn't hurt others.

🌞 sun in leo, 19° / 2nd decan ruled by the sun and jupiter

just like the sun, you shine brightly. you're confident, independent, brave and friendly. you're the only who can handle your life, no one can tell you who you are, what you want or what you need. sometimes you can get insecure, as you feel pressured to always be perfect. you try to be nice and kind to everyone, as you don't wanna be seen as someone unpleasant to be with. even though you may be into gossip and rumors, you try to avoid being involved with them at every cost. the thing with leo is, you're either loved or hated. no inbetween. some may admire your confidence, assertiveness and determination, others may be jealous of you. you have celebrity-like presence, you don't go overlooked. you're most probably the life of the party, and you enjoy living a life full of fun and amusement. you're also amazingly creative. with your heavy leo influence, you have the potential to do and achieve whatever you want, you're very resolute. even though you look very open to getting to know new people, you're secretly very picky about who you call your friends, or even when choosing a partner. you always try to be perfect, and hence you want someone that looks and tries just like you do.

leo sun conjunct leo venus: you enjoy peace and harmony. you want your surroundings to look all neat and clean, and same goes for the people you surround yourself with. you wish people saw you as easy to approach, even though you may struggle with your image. you try to be as formal and kind as possible with people you don’t know well, unless they start getting on your nerves by disagreeing with your opinions or being too bossy. you’re very feminine, not only in your looks and manners but also in the way you dress. you’re quite romantic too, and dream of having a perfect marriage. the downside to this aspect is that because you take so much care of yourself, people may mistake your self-love for vanity, especially with your leo placements. also, your self-esteem may depend too much on others’ opinion of you; you may start thinking you’re ugly and unworthy of love just because someone told you you’re not their type, to sum up.

leo sun square scorpio pluto: probably during your childhood you couldn't make your own decisions. you might have been highly influenced by someone in your family, probably your father, and hence now you feel the need to have everything under control. maybe too much. you despise authority, you may even quite rebellious. maybe your parents have tried to convince you following their religion, ideals etc., without giving you freedom. or perhaps, they are overprotective and avoid to make you have experiences. I imagine that getting rid of your control issues, which are caused by this sense of not being in control of your life, may be the first step to finally heal your wound, which is somehow linked to the relationship with your friends and casual partners in your everyday life. start trusting others more, and don't be afraid of being 'fooled'. you're totally capable of understanding when someone is trying to hurt you, follow your intuition. even though it may be hard, even painful, it'll be the key to transform and overcome pluto's lessons to achieve your goals.

🌙 moon in pisces, 20° / 3rd decan ruled by neptune and pluto

you're extremely empathetic and sensitive, you care a lot about others and you treat others' problems as if they were yours, you get totally immersed in them. you have quite a vivid imagination, you're able to idealize and picture anything you want. while this placement gives you an incredible amount of creativity, it can also make you uncomfortable. in fact, you may actually find yourself imagining every detail of every situation, even the worst ones. let's suppose you hear of a rape at the news; you literally start imagining the scene detail by detail, and it makes you extremely uncomfortable. actually, it literally ruins your mood, as it's as if you actually lived that scene. going back to the creativity matter, you have the soul of an artist; you have very enhanced emotions, and you're able to express them through artistic outlets. you could be amazing at writing poetry, books, art, music... also, your particular empathy of human's intellect can also make you an amazing psychologist or actress, as you're able to understand others' feelings and make them your own. you're extremely spiritual, and if you don't feel like that, you just have yet to have your spiritual awakening. you may be able to talk to spirits, for example, or perhaps you have very meaningful dreams. or maybe, you could literally predict the future through them. you're also most probably an avid daydreamer, you tend to get distracted easily because you're too busy thinking about random scenarios in your head. seriously, you could even make a movie out of them. you're also an hopeless romantic, and you dream of finding not just your spouse, but your literal soulmate. to make it simple, you want all of your daydreams to become reality.

pisces moon conjunct pisces saturn: you tend to hide your emotions under a severe, strict mask. the way you approach others is influenced by your sense of defensiveness, making you lack genuinity. this comes from a fear of intimacy and dealing with your inner, deeper self. it's like you're hiding from your own emotions, so of course you will never be able to express them properly if you're not aware of them. to learn saturn’s lessons, you need to overcome your trust issues. find someone you truly trust and open up to them; it’s only a small step, but once you become more comfortable with someone else, you’ll start feeling better in your own shoes too, trust me.

🗣️ mercury in virgo, 5° / 1st decan ruled by mercury

you have a very logical, pragmatic mind. you try to be as well-spoken as possible, especially with strangers, but when people get on your nerves you can’t help but kill them with your words. before expressing your opinion on a certain matter, you like making sure that your thought actually has proof to be supported. you’re very analytical, and hence you also overthink a lot. especially when it comes to people you care, you start overthinking so much about little things like late replies to messages that you create a variety of hollywood-worthy scenarios in your head. you also pay lots of attention to details, and you can’t tolerate typos and grammar mistakes. you always try to speak and write in the most correct and polite way as possible. you may have an elegant, yet neat handwriting. your voice probably sounds very calm and collected, yet you don’t have any problems speaking at a louder tone.

virgo mercury square sagittarius jupiter: this placement emphasizes your intellect. your mind is so broad that you can come up with different theories and philosophies, making you a sort of genius. you're probably good at memorizing things, and you could even have a photographic memory. yet, with this aspect, you may have trouble being consistent with your ideas. you may overestimate your needs and thoughts; for example, you may promise yourself to get all As in maths, then you get tired and bored and you end up getting Cs. same goes for your handwriting, for example: you may start writing in the best way possible, then you get lazy and end up writing in a sloppy way just to take notes. you also overthink a lot, and that causes you self-esteem issues. on the other hand, you're very open-minded and objective, as you look at the big picture. you'd do very well as a journalist, for example, or perhaps also as a judge of any kind. you may also be naturally skilled at foreign languages, you can mimic accents pretty well. you're probably also very poetic and / or wise, you're like a teacher for your friends.

❤️ venus in leo, 17° / 2nd decan ruled by the sun and jupiter

with leo venus you're very picky, as you have high expectations for your future partner. you always try to be at your best state, and you want those who surround you to be perfect too. it's hard for you to fall for someone, as you take everything in consideration: personality, physical appearance, fashion sense... it may look like it is too much, but once you find the right one that truly satisfies your standards, you're in for a long ride. you'll want to travel, live your life in the best way possible with the person you love. you look at them as if they were the brighest star in the sky, and you want to be seen like this as well. you may even be a bit clingy, but your partner needs to be aware of that. they can't repress your need for affection. you see love as a way to revive your inner child, you feel younger when you're in love. even though you want someone fun and outgoing, you also need someone ambitious, hard-working and generally serious when it comes to committing. there's no room in your life for flaky people.

☄️ mars in libra, 13° / 2nd decan ruled by venus and uranus

there’s this stereotype that libra mars people are passive-aggressive. it may be true, but only partially. in fact, you try to avoid conflicts exclusively when you’re in public, or maybe with someone you don’t know well. in that case, you can eventually try to avoid the problem. with people you’re close to, you’re pretty much the opposite. you may say the worst things that you probably don’t even mean, you may even have the istinct to throw hands. you’re driven by a strong sense of justice, and you probably were the class’ snitch during daycare/primary school. you also strive for equality, hence you may get very defensive when it comes to proving your innocence, or just really anyone’s. overall, you’re a fair person with strong morals, who acts based on the situation you’re in.

🏡 houses

your 1st house is in aries. you fulfill your ego through your actions and willpower. you always try to live your life to the fullest, with no regrets. you prefer trying and getting hurt rather than regretting it. you're extremely passionate about everything you do. you probably also find your confidence in your ideas, love life and even looks! even though at first, you probably had problems embracing your true identity, possibly because of your family. with the ruler of the 1st house in the 6th house, you are probably known for your habits: you may have a strict routine, like a skincare, a workout routine, haircare routine etc. that makes something about you noticeable. you may be known for your work ethic.

your 2nd house is in taurus. you have the ability to recognize value in everything you see and own, from material things to relationships. on a downside, this could make you a bit too materialistic. venus, the ruler of this house, is in the 5th house; your confidence may depend too much on your material possessions (clothes, shoes etc.), finances or on your love life. you like spending money for your appearance, as you enjoy taking care of your looks. you also finding yourself engaing in casual dates often, you're not too strict with your love life, you prefer having fun and going with the flow.

your 3rd house is in gemini. you adore communicating and getting to know new people. you enjoy learning new things, and you're probably skilled at a variety of things thanks to this placement. you may have the tendency to procrastinate, though, so be careful about that. on the other hand, you also have the ability to see the big picture, hence you're quite good at giving advices. however you probably only developed these skills recently. I imagine that when you were younger, you had a pessimistic view of the world that made you struggle to have solid bonds with others, or even with your siblings. you managed to shape your personality through communication, friendships and learning. you're also quite talkative, and you're known for you extroversion. or at least, if you're introverted, you're not shy.

your 4th house's cusp falls in cancer. you're grateful for your family. in fact, you probably still live near them, maybe in the same city. your family matters are one of the most relevant things in your life; your idea on marriage may be influenced by your family. you could either see eye to eye with your parents, or maybe you have their opposite opinion. no inbetween. in general, your childhood and family environment have a great impact on your life; you find yourself being very attached to your home, and you may search for stability and security even in your future family. you may love to maintain traditions, you're very sensitive and appreciative of your roots. however, due to your emotionality, you may tend to act irrationally sometimes, you're often driven by feelings rather than thoughts, therefore you can be quite moody.

your 5th house is in leo. your sun and mercury are also sitting in this house. you shine bright when you're able to express your creativity and need for fun and light romance/sex. you have great problem-solving skills, you are extremely intelligent and astute. when you were younger, you probably used to be the winner at games like hide-and-seek. this placement also enhances your thirst for knowledge of any kind, you want to learn at least a little about anything, from science to foreign cultures. yet, since you want to learn so many things all at once, you may lack precision and be a little bit superficial. on the other hand, you're a fast learner. your flirting style most probably includes jokes, teasing… things like that. even though you may seem flaky, as you like experiencing romance with different types of people, you’re actually quite picky. in fact, in order to fall for someone, you need to feel mentally attracted to them, not just physically. someone ignorant and stubborn that doesn’t care about learning something most definitely isn’t for you.

your 6th house is in virgo. mars and mercury are also placed in this house. you care about your duties, hence your job plays a crucial role in your day-to-day life. you're also fond of your health, and you try to take as much care as possible of it. with this placement, you must be careful to not be pessimistic, or it will most probably mess you up. with chiron sitting here, you probably underwent a series of transformations in your routine and also in your body, which shaped the person you are today. for example, you might've changed jobs a lot, or maybe you enjoy dying your hair, or you lose/gain weight easily. stuff like that, that makes you feel brand new. your life revolves around being productive. you don't like to waste your time, you always try to learn and gain something useful from everything you do. that's caused by the fact that you're motivated to be perfect in what you like; this, combined with your competitive nature, may often cause you to burn out. in fact, the downside to this placement is that you may overwork yourself too much. this is bad, as if you work too much you don't have time to travel with your mind, you can't relax and have fun. in fact, it may be hard for you to endure too much hard work. you're capable of achieving your goals, but in order to do that you also need a break from time to time.

your 7th house is in libra. your partners are probably very similiar to you; you share the same personality and needs, which is both good and bad. in fact, your partners don't bring anything new in your life, hence you could easily get bored of them. you may also come across unusual partners or unusual situations in your love life. you're very romantic, you're not looking for a partner, you're looking for a whole disney prince(ss). you do care about looks when choosing a lover, but not necessarily a conventionally beautiful person. they have to appear perfect to your eyes, and this usually depends on the way they treat you. in fact, you despise vulgar, rude people. people that act like that immediately become unattractive to you. you're also very picky, exactly because you're looking for the perfect lover.

your 8th house is in scorpio. jupiter and pluto are also sitting in this house. you are extremely brave, and you can seem collected even during hard times. your feelings and approach to intimacy are intense, almost life-changing. you're probably also very spiritual. you may be fond of taboo topics, such as sex, astrology, horror and so on. you’re an extremely goal-oriented person. you want to be the best at everything you do, not only to be better than others but also the best for yourself. you’re very astute, it’s impossible to trick you, and you always find a way to be in charge and get what you want. yet, you can get quite obsessed about your goals, that you could do extreme things to get what you want. in fact, people with this placement can even manipulate others, as they’re totally capable of doing that. people are naturally attracted to you, you have a way with words, and hence you’re always able to convince others into giving you what you want. but luckily, this doesn’t turn into manipulation, you probably don’t even realize this skill of yours, and hence you don’t use it to damage others. you are very persuasive, but you don't do it on purpose, you could actually be a little naive. when you get angry, you could actually get scary, though. your emotions are very intense, it’s hard to calm you down. you may be very sarcastic and aggressive with your words. you could hurt people, but you don’t do it on purpose. most of the time, you don’t even mean the things you say. you may also vent your anger with physical action, hence you could slam doors, punch or break things etc.

your 9th house is in sagittarius. you were a good student, as you enjoyed studying subjects like philosophy, literature etc. after all, there's a romantic side to you that loves poetry and self-expression. overall, you love filling up your life with new adventures and trips that allow you to open your mind and come up with new ideas, theories and views of the world and society. your open-mindness manifests through creativity, hence you may enjoy reading (especially novels), writing, watching meaningful movies and so on. you are an extremely wise person, and you believe strongly in your beliefs. you rarely change your mind, but most of the time you’re an open-minded person. you love learning about anything, and you may also have a good memory.

your 10th house is in capricorn. neptune and uranus are also placed in this house. you're very ambitious and serious about your career and reputation. this placement may make it hard for you to achieve your goals at first, but it won't be a problem if you work hard, which is something you probably don't lack due to your aries energy. your ambition makes you want to be the best wherever you are, and you may actually overwork yourself to achieve your goals. establishing your status is important for you. you may not be the type to act instantly, you prefer taking your time to follow a plan. in fact, you probably write down what you have to do in an agenda, or even in your phone's notes app. you have this strong sense of duty, as you feel 100% responsible of your fate. you're sure that, if you don't work hard, you don't deserve success and recognition. in fact, you don't take orders from others, you are your own boss. you could have materialistic tendencies, as wealth is what motivates you the most to work or just take action in general.

your 11th house is in aquarius. you love working in groups, especially if you're the leader. once someone becomes special to you, you'll do anything to protect them. you strive for independence, as you focus your existence on your witty intellect. you have the ability to achieve great things, as your mind is literally revolutionary, even though you may struggle to make those projects concrete. a downside to this placement is that you may not give enough importance to your words; you’re brutally honest, and you may often hurt someone with your thoughts. you’re also quite stubborn, and you take particular pride about your ideals. you may feel offended when people disagree with you. or maybe, you don’t even say your opinions, because you could be aware of the weight of your words and you don’t want to hurt others, or you’re afraid of being judged. people may define you as cold, but you’re really not.

lastly, your 12th house is in pisces. your moon and saturn are also sitting in this house. your dreams are pretty meaningful, and with the moon here you may also feel comfortable expressing your persona through religion and spirituality. you could dream about dead people, sex, or even have prophetic dreams. you may be able to have prophetic dreams, talk to spirits, read tarots or birth charts… anything that has to do with your higher self and world. yet, due to saturn, I assume it could be hard for you to fully embrace these skills of yours. in fact, you may be a bit too pragmatic to embrace your spirituality. I think you’re already working this out since you’ve booked an astrology reading to discover more about yourself, but remember that you should definitely try to get more in touch with your soul! even doing simple stretching, meditation or yoga can help give you some space to think about your identity, your wants and your needs. the 12th house is also the house of fears; you may be afriad of authority, like the police for example, or anything that appears to be much bigger and more supported than you. it may also manifest in fear of not being organized, and also fear of money / success loss.

❤️ love life, soulmates

in love, you attract libra, leo, aquarius, scorpio, capricorn and aries placements. you seek a partner that is loyal, ambitious, good looking but also quite sexual. you need your spouse to understand your deepest feelings and behaviour. you could have troubles in your love life, especially in your earlier years. it's something you managed to solve with time and awareness of your potential.

👶🏻 family life

your mother was very maternal with you, and she probably had cancer/water placements. yet, she could've been quite strict and close-minded as well, repressing you from totally embracing your creative needs. your father was also very dominant in your family, and he was probably older than your mother. he's possibly a capricorn or another earth sign. you may have lots of siblings, and they have fixed/earth energy. I feel like at first your relationship with them wasn't the best, but now you may get along.

📊 career

I certainly see you being successful in your career, you will most likely work alone and you'll most likely be a boss. you're very hard-working, so I can see you having your own business for example. otherwise, you may also do well in an aesthetic field, you probably have great creative talent. you may be an artist, a creative director, a screenwriter, a writer, a singer, a musician... or even more practical jobs like lawyer, judge, possibly also a therapist or psychologist. in particular, I can see you doing well in a job where you get to interact with people; you would make a great nurse, for example. you may also work in a field related to fashion and the arts in general. my advice is to pick the career that makes you feel more emotionally fulfilled, as your success is highly influenced by how you feel. if you're not satisfied with your job, you're automatically going to underwork and feel stressed. you also have heavy energy in the upper half of your chart, making you very future-oriented and extroverted. I can definitely see you taking the spotlight in whatever you decide to pursue.

👚 fashion sense, style analysis

keyword for your wardrobe: black. every leo venus loves black, it's probably my favorite love story. after all, it's such a versatile color! it can be both badass and classy, how can I blame you. you may also have a thing for anything that looks luxury and high quality; you probably enjoy wearing designer brands, especially in your belts and bags. you may also like wearing fitted clothes, even just simple skinny jeans or tight tops. aside from black, you could as well use white and bold colours like gold, hot pink etc. also, you may as well be into pastel colors, and you could like following fashion trends.

👁️ past life, life purpose

in your past life, the focus was on yourself. maybe, you had trouble with self-esteem and identity in general. you had to work hard and finally understand who you were to fulfill your past life purpose. hence, this lifetime your focus will be on the bonds you create with others. even though at first you might feel almost scared of the idea of marriage, this lifetime you're here to develop this matter. after all, you may despise love for your troubled past. with your north node in the 7th house, you're naturally lucky in love. there's nothing to be afraid of, you only need to take small steps and open your heart to someone, putting your worries and insecurities aside.

🤔 major transits analysis, june 1

in the last few months, you could have undergone sudden changes in your finances. however, with jupiter transiting gemini this summer, your financial life is going to take a turn for the better. I see that summer is going to be a profitable period for you, it's the best time to work, sell and play the lottery, as you may gain abundance from it.

🧿 manifest what you want, secret skills

the best way for you to manifest is idealizing and acting at the same time. you have both energies combined in your chart, which is great actually! I’d suggest you to first picture what you want in your life, and then do something concrete to manifest it. for example, let’s suppose you want this gucci bag; first, think about it deeply. then, you could try going into a gucci shop and just walk around, maybe even touch that bag. you’ll get results if you believe it! it’s also great to write and read/listen your own positive affirmations, such as 'I love my gucci bag’, 'the gucci bag my mom gave me is amazing’ and so on.

this is the end! thank you again for booking a reading, hope it resonated with you :)

- libramc xx

[genshinimpactlife]

Hi! Could I please get a matchup? There's absolutely no rush or pressure at all though! I totally understand if you're too busy or just not in the mood, please don't push yourself if you're not in a comfortable position to do so.

I'm an autistic, pansexual man. I'm a librarian and while I do enjoy it, my true dream is to work in the medical field, there's nothing that fascinates me more than medicine. I'm an INFP-T, enneagram 9w1. I'm "slow" and take a long while to process information, so I get along best with people who are patient. I don't look at people, speak with a "sing-song" voice and am always either wringing my hands or rocking back on my heels, constantly moving in some way. I get overstimulated very easily. My peers used to frequently refer to me as "weird" but due to my mellow nature, I was generally liked regardless.

I have short, fluffy chocolate brown hair. I cut it myself so it's always a mess, but somehow I manage to pull it off. I like to tie a tiny braid in it every now and again, both because I find the act soothing and because it provides character. I'm very pale with rosy cheeks and blue-green eyes. 5'10. I have a scar across the front of my neck and wear round glasses with a golden glasses chain, adorned with little moons and stars. I usually wear a button up and a sweater with a long coat. Also, in the Genshin universe, I'd definitely have feline ears and a tail, not unlike the Kätzlein bloodline.

I have a weak heart and am a frail, sickly person in general, so I'm not very active, although I do like to swim. I also love books...novels, poetry, the act of writing itself. I enjoy drawing and writing music, too, anything creative really. And drinking. Alongside medicine, my other obsession is astronomy, cosmology in particular. That's why, if I were studying at the Academia, I'd want to be a part of the Rtawahist Darshan.

If I had a vision, I think I would have an anemo vision. I love the wind, I think there's something indescribably beautiful about it's existence, and I value freedom deeply. My weapon of choice would be a catalyst.

While I'm very timid and awkward around strangers, my friends describe me as a bubbly, cheeky person who likes to cause mischief. "Endearingly annoying". I'm good at making people laugh, although it's almost always unintentional. I've been told that I give good advice and comfort alike, but I myself am very stubborn, once I've put my mind to something I absolutely refuse to give up, for better or for worse, and I quickly grow frustrated upon failure. My love language is physical touch, but anything that involves touching my hair is my greatest weakness.

I think that's enough. Thank you soso much for your time! But again, no pressure or rush at all, okay? I can't wait to see more of your blog! :)

I would match you with...

Barbara has always been kind to you and would try to initiate a conversation with you, even if you are a bit timid.

But when you two became friends, and your bubbly and cheeky personality came out, she started falling for you.

Barbara would 100% support your dreams of working in the medical field, doing whatever she could to help.

Barbara is a very patient woman who would have no problem with your quirks.

As a fellow autistic person, that's what I call them :)

Barbara would quickly catch on to the signs that you are getting overstimulated and adjust accordingly. Whether it be compression therapy or just going somewhere with fewer external stimuli

Besides Running errands, Barbara isn't very active either. Both of you would be average activity-wise

She would love to sing any songs that you write. She might even ask you to make one for her to perform.

Barbara doesn't know much about astronomy, but she loves listening to you talk about it and teach her.

You are very kind Anon! I actually write these when I'm taking a break from schoolwork and other things, so its no pressure at all <3 Hope you enjoy!

[ultimatecutenesspeaks]

Sibling Headcanons - Haruki and Mizuki

These two have been at each other's throats long enough, and I love their sibling relationship, so let's throw in some wholesomeness

Now, Mizuki had Kobayashi blood this entire time, so they're technically cousins

But now they're siblings, so leave them alone

Anyway, Mizuki is generally the quieter of the two, but she's not shy like Haruki

He doesn't do well under pressure, so she steps in and speaks for him when needed

These two are together all the time. Haruki is generally a really affectionate guy, so he likes to hug Mizuki a lot

It was a big adjustment for her, considering her upbringing, but she grows to love it

But she's afraid to get all huggy with him in return, since that's how she was with her actual big brother, Taro

But Haruki doesn't mind it at all. If anything, he encourages it

Mizuki feels that she can be her true self around him, and he couldn't be happier

He gave her back the childhood that was taken away from her

After putting Haruki through so much shit, Mizuki swears to protect him with her life

She may be younger, but she's the strong one

No one gets to mess with the soft boy but her

Plus, we know that she strongly values big brother figures, so that's another reason

Mizuki loves to tease the shit out of him, though

He gets embarrassed super easily, especially when it comes to being praised

And she just loves to take advantage of it

She also loves to start tickle fights or pillow fights for no reason

That, or completely slaughtering each other in video games

Now that Mizuki isn't so aggressive anymore, she shows the chaotic crackhead side of her, especially with Haruki

But he can be mischievous, too

Being with Mizuki brings out the playful side of him, just like he does for her

He's only older than Mizuki by ten days, but he loves to tease her about it when he can, and she hates it

Mizuki also isn't used to affection or praise, so Haruki loves to take advantage of that as well

He usually stops when she asks him to, though

Headpats are their thing. They both love them, so they do it to each other

Mizuki doesn't call Haruki "pipsqueak" anymore, preferring to call him "Ruki"

Oh, and they're is still just as chaotic as always. They continue to commit crazy, just like they did in junior high

Now that they made up, their peers call them the "Chaos Twins"

Except instead of Mizuki forcing Haruki into it, she strongly encourages it is there even a difference?

And they're doing it as siblings instead of frenemies

But Haruki also acts as the voice of reason, and he will pull the "big brother" card when he has to. If things get out of hand, he will put a stop to it

It doesn't happen often, given his submissive nature, but if it's something that will hurt him or Mizuki, he shuts it down

He may not look it, but he can be mature and take charge when he needs to. With no hesitation, as well

Mizuki usually ignores his warnings, but even she gets intimidated when Haruki is genuinely frustrated. Once that happens, she immediately stops whatever she's doing and listens to him

Haruki won't hesitate to stand up for her

He'll be shaking and stuttering the whole time, especially in front of her parents, but he will do it

He also defends her from anyone who insults her for the way she treated him

Sure, she bullied him a lot, but he doesn't blame her for it. Not anymore, at least

Mizuki still feels bad about the way she acted, but she's glad Haruki forgave her

Mizuki can fool anyone else, but she can't hide anything from Haruki

He's known Mizuki for years, and he can always tell when something's bothering her

She tends to push people away, but he won't leave her alone unless she genuinely needs to be, or until she tells him

It does annoy her, but this time around, she's not going to take it out on him. So she tells him

He doesn't judge her at all, and he's there to hold her as she lets out her emotions

But even though Haruki loves to give support to others, he doesn't like to take it from people

He doesn't want other people to help him, something both him and Mizuki have in common

It's a result of the mistreatment they've both suffered, but now, they can give support to each other to make up for what they didn't get from others

Mizuki knows Haruki just as well as he knows her, and she won't let him push her away either

She feels bad for all the times she called him a crybaby, but now, she will never judge him. She'll give him the same gentle attention he gave to her, just as siblings should do

They often argue over who should protect the other; Mizuki, because she's stronger and wants to make up for the shit she put Haruki through, and Haruki because he's older and wants to do for her what her parents never did

Mizuki is also terrified to lose him, given how she lost her older brother when she was young

But Haruki promises to never leave her, and it makes her feel a lot better

They agree that they've both suffered a lot, and they should protect each other the same

In the end, it's honestly comical how different these two are

Everything about them just screams "opposite," and it definitely throws people off when they see them smiling and hanging out together, especially those who know their history

But there is one thing they have in common: pain

They've both been through some shit, which is why they're so protective of each other now

Although it took way too long to get here, they know now that fighting each other isn't the right thing to do, so they fight together

They actually get along pretty great once they get past the nastiness of the past

And in the end, they make an awesome duo

[nothankyousirr]

my opinions on the different mbti types (from an intj)

enfp - you can be good to hang around in moderation. i appreciate your charitable nature; how you aren’t one to pass judgement, but that also leads to a lack in understanding one’s depth. i appreciate how easy it is to befriend you, you’re able to keep the conversation without any expectations on my part to contribute, and although you can be stupid and impulsive, it’s to a point where it’s almost fascinating, which makes it somehow nice to be in your presence. in moderation, of course. you can be very draining at some points.

entp - you’re funny to watch, but actually conversing with you can be...confusing? i do appreciate your ability to see things from other perspectives, but sometimes you need to take a step back and understand the overall reasons behind those perspectives. confidence is important, but don’t get too over zealous, we all have things to improve on.

enfj - i cannot understand you. at all. you’re so nice, it seems like you have some sort of ulterior motives. i do not trust you, you are just so warm i feel like i’m being judged every time i talk with you, or are even in the same room as you. your general demeanor is just so kind it’s threatening, you need to be less optimistic.

entj - a lot of people hate you, which i can understand on their part, but i appreciate your approach to things. with every entj i’ve met, no matter my friend’s/peer’s opinion, we’ve always had a mutual understanding of some sorts. although, i do see a lot of naivety; which i’m 99.9% sure none of you will ever admit. i admire your drive, your confidence, and things along those lines, but some words of advice; you can’t change anyone. as hard as you try, some people are just stuck the way they are, unfortunately. it’s something i’ve had to learn as well, but a lesson i think would do you well.

infp - you are adorably killing yourselves with every move; like small puppy who’s favorite toy just happens to be laid perfectly in the middle of ongoing traffic. your impulsivity hurts me deep inside. please, just try to be aware of your surroundings, at least a little. i know, ironic coming from me, but it’s all i could ask. think out your actions, just a bit. i know life may suck, but take it upon yourself to change that, instead of just falling victim to your own hurt. i wish i could just pick you up and live your life for you, it hurts to see you do these things.

intp - i like you. your humor is refreshing as well as your insight, you just cannot stay organized. you take pride in your discombobulation; your lack of care, which confuses me. because of that, it’s hard to empathize with you when you have troubles, because it could’ve been easily prevented. it makes me upset for you when i see you do this. it doesn’t come from a place of trying to overly pressure you, rather a place of care. i hope that can be acknowledged.

infj - i enjoy your presence, you are just are hard to get. i always seem to upset you in some way, so i implore you to be better at communicating those things. your productivity and insight is very much appreciated, i feel your anxiety is holding you back. we all experience anxiety, it’s a valid human emotion, of course, but don’t let it dictate your life. confidence is important, you’re allowed to acknowledge your accomplishments. also, i implore you to think deeper in terms of morality. why do you believe those things? what is the axiomatic rout of those morals? by understanding that, you gain a better understanding of the people around you. the people you deem to be bad, may think they’re good by their own definition.

intj - from one intj to another, i feel like there is a lot to grow on. we tend to be very book-smart, but oblivious when it comes to how people work, including ourselves, but just because those things are acknowledged from mbti posts and whatnot, that does not give any excuse to avoid improvement. knowledge is important if we ever want to achieve our goals, and having that insight can make things a lot easier. as much as it seems like time is easily slipping away from us, taking control and trying to pick up on those details we may normally be ignoring, may teach us something valuable. it’s also important to take care of ourselves. i find routines are an easy way to remember to do so. having designated times for everything helps maximize the amount of time to get things done, while also taking care of your needs. and give yourself breaks. having fun, relaxing, etc. can also be productive in itself. not everything that’s productive isn’t what’s directly seen as such.

esfp - you can be a lot. its very hard for me to truly understand you, and i get the impression that you feel the same about me. i feel like there’s a lot of miscommunication. we’re practically complete opposites, not just literally (intj-esfp) but in practice as well. what you find fun and what i find fun is so drastically different from one another, i feel like it’s impossible to truly have a meaningful time with each other. from both parties.

estp - i like your confidence. your humor as well. i feel like we get along quite well, although it can be hard at some points because i tend to live in the future a lot, while you’re the “go with the flow” type. that is appreciated, though, and i feel like there’s a lot to teach each other. that’s just a matter of taking the time to communicate with one-another and be understanding.

esfj - i like you, from the sidelines. i appreciate the way you think, i’m just not sure if that is reciprocated. i tend to come of very strong, which i think is quite anxiety inducing for you, but you’re very passionate about the things you enjoy. i do think it’s important for you to have more insight, though. the world is vast, and an understanding of it can be very beneficial to you. 

estj -  your drive is commendable. you’re very confident, know what you want, which i appreciate. i do think it’s important to take a step to think about things further to acknowledge the nuances in things, instead of dismissing them as confusing. not everything is as blunt as you’d like, and may take a bit of critical thinking to truly understand. things happen, yes, but why may they do that? is there anyway to prevent the things you don’t like from happening? those questions are something i think are important to keep in mind.

isfp - for lack of a more kinder way of saying this, i dislike you. i wouldn’t go as far as to say i hate you, but i am very frustrated with you. you tend to dismiss things for the main reason of someone just “being that way” without taking into account any other factors that may come into play for that behavior. with the isfps i’ve met, you’ve seen my behaviors as “trying too hard to be a certain way” or “pretentious” without truly understanding why i act the way i do. it gets frustrating. your very confident, but in thoughts that are lacking in insight. take a second to learn about what you’re talking about before you say things. for my own sanity.

istp - even though you seem like you’re about to kill yourself with your approach to things, you always some how get it done, which is respectable, yet fascinating. you’re surprisingly very fun, even though from the outside i wouldn’t think we’d be at all close friends. you’re not one for deep conversation, rather the kind of conversation that always leave’s me feeling refreshed. it’s important to sometimes take a break, and you’re the type of person that i can easily have that with.

isfj - you’re very adorable. your moral standpoint to most things can be a bit frustrating at some points, but you make up for it with your kind demeanor; a genuine kindness as well. your happiness and drive to help people is a commendable quality, just don’t let people walk all over you. you tend to be a bit too charitable, when sometimes it’s okay to recognize that people just aren’t the right match for you. it’s okay to take care of yourself. i know i come off strong and that can be a bit intimidating, but i promise that it comes from a place of care. be confident in yourself. to truly be able to take care of the people around you, you need to take care of yourself first.

istj - i respect you and your approach to things. i think there are a lot of things we can learn from one another. your ability to easily figure things out from your surroundings is admirable, and it’s interesting the way your mind works. i haven’t met many istjs (of my knowledge) but i think we’d get along quite well from the information given to me.

[nitw]

would you like an excuse to nitw post i for the life of me canNOT understand the PLOT OF THIS GAME

that's fair! nitw's core story is intentionally vague and non-direct so i don't blame people for not immediately getting it. i'll talk abt it as quickly as possible bc i just woke up lol

the 3 major themes of nitw i feel are dealing with mental illness as a young adult, existentialism, and how capitalism takes lives in different ways.

while mae's official diagnosis is never revealed, the way she describes her experience at college is easily identifiable if you've ever been through a long-term depressive episode in your adult years. the thing about depressive episodes and other forms of mental breakdowns is that they aren't always rational. in mae's case, while a lot of it seems to stem from peer pressure and rushing into something she wasn't prepared for, she's not really able to grasp what's wrong with her or why everything is going wrong until it's already too late. i always really liked the whole "shapes" allegory when she talks about dissociation; how the world just started blending together one day, from things that used to make sense and have a meaning and an identity attached to them, into random shapes and colors that didn't mean anything.

now, the existentialist and anti-capitalist elements in this game might be harder to see if you don't know youre looking for them, because this is where the whole supernatural/demonic cult thing comes in. it also doesn't help that nitw's full story can't be experienced in just 1 playthrough, since some of the context is locked behind events, hidden locations and specific dialogue choices. i'll try to summarize lt:

BASICALLY: in the game's lore, there's an all-powerful demonic being called "the black goat". it lives down at the far bottom of a hole in the ground, discovered by local miners many years before the game takes place. it's supposedly the cause of sinkholes, floods and other natural disasters around town, as well as the shitty state of the job market and people being forced to leave their homes. certain people (including mae) have "heard it singing" and have been inevitably gravitating towards it.

during an especially tough period for possum springs' working class, the town's old mining community formed a sort of cult around the black goat, after discovering that it LITERALLY feeds on human sacrifices. though the cult made it a rule to only sacrifice people who "wouldn't be missed" or "wouldn't contribute anything important to the town".

this is all a huge metaphor for late stage capitalism, as an endless cycling of people suffering and dying for the sake of maintaining "order" in society, and how you can't improve on these conditions without getting to and destroying the (literal, in the game's case) core of the problem. and that might be a task too big for any person.

near the end of the game, mae has this big monologue moment where she directly confronts the black goat, and in turn, confronts herself and her own issues. she basically goes "yeah, this whole situation sucks and maybe nothing we do will ever contribute to anything on the grand scheme. but that's why i need to hold onto even the smallest things that give my life meaning, even if they're sad, even if they hurt." it's one of my favorite scenes in the whole game, and really ties everything together in a neat little bow.

TLDR; at the end of everything, hold onto anything

[tennessoui]

Please give me the TA scene where Vos takes Obi-Wan to a bar to get drunk and forget about Anakin and pick up some hotties but oh no Anakin is there and Obi-Wan is a little tipsy and doesn’t want to be rude so he goes to say hi. Then for the rest of the night when he tries to go Anakin pulls him back into conversation because he doesn’t want Obi-Wan going home with someone else

yes!!!!!! TIS THE SEASON (halloween)

(2.3k)(the first TA obi-wan snippet!!)

The thing about Quinlan that Obi-Wan hates the most is that his friend is the only person in the entire world that can out-stubborn him. That’s usually not a problem. But sometimes it is. Sometimes it results in Quinlan forcing Obi-Wan into doing something he’d rather not do.

All those people that say peer pressure isn’t really real have never met Quinlan Vos.

Obi-Wan sort of wishes he’d never met Quinlan Vos when the man shows up at his door on Friday evening carrying three different bundles of clothing.

“Because I’m nice, you get to choose what you want to be for Halloween,” Quinlan announces, laying out the options on Obi-Wan’s coffee table.

“Drunk and alone in my apartment,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s an option, right?”

“Just for that, I’m taking Indiana Jones off the table,” Quinlan replies, not sounding sorry about it at all. “I’ll be that one. I think I could make the whip look hot as hell.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and peers at the costumes. “Sexy nurse or sexy….Red Riding Hood? I’m not wearing that. I doubt it would even fit me.”

“Bullshit, you have a very dainty waist, Obi. But hurry up and choose because we’re going to be late.”

“We’re going tonight?” Obi-Wan splutters. “It’s not even Halloween!”

“It’s the Halloweekend, Obi-Wan. It’s like you’ve forgotten all of our sophomore year.”

Obi-Wan’s tried to block most of it out, that’s true. The parts he remembers, at least. “I think we’re a bit too old for Halloweekend, Quin,” he protests, staring down at the costumes. “And I--”

“Have been obsessing over this so-called hottest professor in existence, yes, I know.” Quinlan holds up his hand when Obi-Wan starts to disagree. “No, you know I’m right. I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’ve never heard you casually talk about someone so much and I’ve been there for all of your co-ed crushes. So what we’re going to do tonight is go and get your hot professor fucked out of your head, and the best way to do that is either sexy nurse or sexy Red Riding Hood. So.”

“I do not want this,” Obi-Wan reiterates slowly. “I very much am not aboard this plan.”

“Don’t make me invoke the BFFFOC, Obi,” Quinlan threatens.

The BFFFOC, or Best Friend Forever Failsafe Override Code, was thought up between them one night their first year of college. If ever one of them was going down a path that the other deemed unwise, they had the right to invoke the override and talk some sense into them.

“I don’t think me not wanting to dress in a slutty and offensive nurse outfit counts,” Obi-Wan protests loudly.

“It’s not about the costume, Obi, and you know it. It’s about this professor. You know you need to get over him. So get under someone else. I’d offer, but that would be in complete violating of--”

“BFFNBTBT,” Obi-Wan finishes with him, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I recall.”

That one, Best Friends Forever No Below The Belt Touching had been resurrected after a very unfortunate one night stand. The grounds for that code are some of the ones Obi-Wan is still trying to forget.

“Fine,” he snaps and hates himself for it. One day he’ll learn how to say no to Quinlan. “But I’m going with Red Riding Hood.”

“I thought you would!” his friend cheers. “The cape’s long enough to cover more of your upper thighs and you’re a bit of a prude.”

Obi-Wan snatches up the packaged costume from the table. “Fuck off,” he says, quite pleasantly in his opinion. “And I’m not paying you back for this.”

“You should shave,” Quinlan tells him as he turns towards his bedroom. “Really commit to the role!”

Perhaps tonight Obi-Wan will strangle Quinlan with his own length of Indiana Jones whip. The thought puts a smile on his face.

In the end, Obi-Wan does end up shaving. It’s not something he does often, but he’d looked at the costume. The dress doesn’t even come down to his fingertips. The hooded red cape somehow just a little bit longer.

And he thinks making Quinlan wait for thirty minutes while Obi-Wan gets ready is the very least of what he deserves.

Dragging out the process, however, doesn’t magically give Quinlan enough time to realize how stupid this is, because when Obi-Wan peers around the edge of his door, Quin’s on the couch in full Indiana Jones costume regalia, flicking through his phone.

“I look like a pervert’s idea about what Swedish barmaids looked like in the 18th century,” Obi-Wan complains, trying to flatten the hem of the flared out dress as he regretfully leaves the safety of his bedroom.

“That’s what the hood’s for,” Quinlan says sagely, looking up from his phone to take in Obi-Wan. “What, no makeup?”

“I need you to know that my biggest regret in my entire life will always be that I sat next to you on our first day of chem,” Obi-Wan tells him placidly, adjusting the cape around his bare shoulders. He hates to admit it, but the feeling of the inner fabric of the hood feels good against his skin. Soft.

“Oh, don’t say that, Obi, I’m sorry. You’re pretty without makeup.”

“I’m about to throw a punch,” he warns.

Quinlan grins and slings an arm around him. “Well then, looks like it’s time to go.”

----

They slide into two seats at the very crowded bar only thirty or so minutes later. Everyone around them is wearing some sort of costume, some so wild or revealing that Obi-Wan doesn’t even necessarily feel bad about the amount of skin he’s showing off.

Someone walks by in a golden speedo and Obi-Wan takes a gulp of his drink. At least this place does some heavy pours.

Quinlan leans into his ear. “See anyone?” he yells of the din of loud music and voices.

“I see a lot of people,” Obi-Wan reports back immediately.

“One more tongue-in-cheek response out of you, and I’ll make you do tequila shots, young man!”

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, but then a girl in a french maid costume smiles at him flirtily from across the bar. His first thought is that he likes Professor Skywalker’s smile a lot better. Then he wonders about what Professor Skywalker’s doing tonight, if he likes Halloween. If he’s dressed up. If he’s alone.

“I would like two tequila shots,” he tells the bartender when she passes them.

“Obi-Wan, you shouldn’t have!” Quinlan tosses his arm around his shoulder and pulls him in for an awkward, but enthusiastic hug when the shots arrive.

“They’re both for me,” he responds. “You can choke.”

“You wound me so precisely,” Quinlan shakes his head, and flags down a bartender to order his own. Obi-Wan decides to ignore him, licking at the back of his hand quickly before sprinkling the salt onto the damp skin.

The first shot goes down easily, but he doesn’t even wait ten seconds before he’s brought his hand back to his mouth for another lick.

Halfway through, he looks up at the feeling of eyes staring at him. He follows his own instincts until his eyes latch onto bright, familiar blue ones across the way.

If he’d taken the shot, he would have choked in this moment when confronted with Anakin Skywalker, out of the lecture hall and looking so intensely at Obi-Wan that he feels strangely vulnerable. Examined.

He breaks eye contact with his professor when Quinlan’s arm tightens on his shoulder and he knocks their shot glasses together.

It’s second nature at this point to do shots with Quin, and he drinks his down automatically as his eyes can’t help but to dart back to Anakin--Professor Skywalker--at his table.

He’s sitting alone. Not even that dressed up. Obi-Wan has no feelings about this.

Quinlan, who is frighteningly observant at the worst times, clues into Professor Skywalker’s presence before he thinks he should, after only ten or so minutes have passed. “That guy is staring at you,” he whispers very loudly to Obi-Wan, taking a pointed sip of his newest drink. “Or maybe me, but he sorta looks angry whenever I touch you.”

As if to prove this, Quinlan moves in to place a sloppy kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan can’t shove him off quickly enough.

“Yep, definitely looking at you.” Quinlan concludes. “Looks blond, older than us, but like. Not ancient. What are you thinking? Wanna go over? I think you should, he looks like he’d give you a good time.”

Obi-Wan stares down at his drink. Quinlan doesn’t know what Professor Skywalker looks like. He doesn’t know that he’s actually cajoling Obi-Wan into the arms of the one person he’s set against him seeing. If Obi-Wan were a better friend, he’d tell him. But Obi-Wan isn’t. Obi-Wan’s feeling a little tipsy from the drinks, and his legs are all smooth, and he wants to talk to Professor Skywalker. He wants to see if maybe the man could want him if he’s wearing this. If he looks like this.

“I’m gonna go over and talk to him,” he decides in a rush, already lifting himself out of his seat. Quinlan crows in delight and reaches out to steady him when he stumbles a bit.

Water next, Obi-Wan thinks. He’s going to have water next.

It’s a short trip across the room to where Professor Skywalker is sitting. It just feels longer because of nerves. God, what is he doing? Why is he doing this?

But suddenly he’s at Anakin’s table. Suddenly he’s standing right in front of him, drink clutched in both hands, very aware of how much skin his outfit is showing off.

Anakin’s eyes dart down and the back up again before lingering at the exposed skin of his thighs. If it were anyone else, Obi-Wan would think he’s being checked out, but it’s his professor. And no matter how much Obi-Wan may want Anakin’s eyes to stick on him like a brand, he knows the older man would never want that same thing.

“Professor Skywalker, hello,” he finally says, fiddling with the straw in his drink. A few seconds later, he takes a sip, conscious of the way the man follows this motion. If it were anyone else--

But it’s not.

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” the professor scolds. “Especially outside of the classroom.”

“Sorry,” he says immediately. “Um. Anakin.”

Anakin’s arm drapes itself over the back of his booth as he sits more comfortably in his chair. “Please, sit.”

“I don’t want to intrude or anything, I just saw you and thought I would say--”

“Obi-Wan, sit,” this is a much clearer instruction. Obi-Wan drops into the other chair. Anakin looks him over again. “I have to admit, I didn’t have you pegged for being into this holiday,” he says roughly. “Or so committed to it.”

Obi-Wan thinks he’s probably blushing as red as his hood. “No, I um. You’re right. My friend, I--he wanted me to come out with him, and he only got me two costumes--I wouldn’t, but he--”

“Indiana Jones?” Anakin cuts in to ask sharply. “Sounds like a bit of a controlling boyfriend if he made you do something you’re not comfortable with.”

There’s an air of protectiveness in Anakin’s voice that makes Obi-Wan feel warm on the inside. Even though the professor couldn’t have been more wrong.

“No, no,” he corrects him anyway, even though a part of him is yelling that Anakin really doesn’t care that much about the details of his personal life. “We’re just friends. And I….”

He trails off, and Anakin arches one of his thick eyebrows in expectancy.

It may be that expression, the knowledge that Obi-Wan could give Anakin the answer he’s looking for, or the drinks in his system, but he finds himself continuing, admitting quite quietly, “I like it.”

Anakin straightens in his seat and takes a long pull of his own drink. “You like it,” he repeats. “Am I to assume you’re just a fan of the fairytale?”

Obi-Wan bites at his lip. He knows he shouldn’t say anything more, but....but they’re so far from the lecture hall here. It’s hard to remember why they shouldn’t talk about this. It’s hard not to let his mind wander to what he would say if the person he was talking to was not his professor, but a man he was interested in spending the night with, someone he was trying to seduce.

He shakes his head shyly.

“I like the hood,” he admits, because once he’s thought of it it’s incredibly difficult not to say it. He hardly even tries, if he’s being honest. “The cape is just long enough I can feel it on my thighs. And I like the skirt and--” he hesitates here, but it’s not called liquid courage for nothing. “The lingerie it came with.”

Anakin freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he sets it back onto the table again and studies Obi-Wan with darkened eyes. His expression is unreadable and it makes Obi-Wan squirm in his seat.

“Fuck,” Anakin breathes out, the word almost lost to the roar of noise in the bar.

Obi-Wan fidgets in his seat. “Actually, sir,” he says suddenly. “I’m sorry, I should go, I only meant to say hello--”

“You should stay,” the professor interrupts, leaning forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s forearm. The touch is electrifying. “For a drink.”

“Just a drink,” Obi-Wan agrees probably too quickly, a part of him responding to Anakin’s pleading expression perhaps more than it should. “My, what big eyes you have,” he jokes in regards to his professor’s begging look.

“The better to see you with,” Anakin replies immediately. For a second, his hand on Obi-Wan’s arm doesn’t move. Then his thumb strokes over the smooth skin there before he pulls back. “My dear.”

[needleandhammer]

Prism

Pairing: Robert Pronge x Reader; featuring Jake Jensen

Warnings: 18+ only, dark fic, non-con touch, kidnapping, it's Freezy so yeah

Notes: Happy spooky season! I cannot believe the writers I am following have led me onto the Freezy Train 😳

For a year, you worked alongside Jake. He came through your office suite to set up new computers one morning. Designated the unofficial tech responder, you reached out to him often, asked questions politely and endlessly until he resigned himself to visiting your office multiple times per week. Somehow, the two of you ended up having lunch together as he listened to you grumble about coworkers adverse to seeking technological solutions on their own. Then going to happy hour together. Then texting each other; Jake followed your lead until the two of you could speak in memes and emojis.

Your friend abruptly left his job a few months ago. With no response to your text messages, you swallowed down the disappointment of losing touch with a friend when adulting kept your circle so small already. You only hoped he was okay.

Now, after a late night at the office, your coworker Carter lies unconscious in your peripheral. The person responsible for knocking out Carter stalks toward you. You’re scrambling around your desk trying to keep distance between him and you, this stranger with scraggly hair hanging over a pair of thick spectacles.

You’re so startled, mind trying to salvage some kind of escape plan that you haven’t even tried yelling for help. You hurl a solid glass paperweight at him. Air rushes up your throat – a scream working its way out when you see him dodge and strike forward at you. His hands circle your wrist, you’re yanked against him and a painful blow to the base of your neck sends you sinking into blackness.

---

You wake with a start. Where are you?

Your hands roam, grasping lightly across your body in search of any new injuries while you breathe past the lingering pain at the back of your head. At least it wasn’t bleeding. Assured that you were able to stand and move with relative ease, you’re on your feet and tiptoeing to the door of the bedroom. Your shoes are gone, dammit.

You swallow hard, breathing deep against grogginess and the aching pulse at the base of your skull. That fucker isn’t here so you need to act.

Go out that door.

Wait. You need something. A weapon. Anything.

A shaky breath forces your stark fear at bay as you look around the room. You make it to the open closet door.

A pink color halts you physically and mentally. Pink. You collapse to your knees and grasp at the cotton fabric. The word printed on the pink shirt triggers a breathless sob that you can’t control.

Petunias

Oh gods, did this deranged man kidnap Jake too? What can he possibly want with you and your friend? Is Jake in some kind of trouble? Questions bombard your mind, tangling into nothing that makes sense. Your head aches. Your limbs feel weak. Has it been long enough that your body has weakened from lack of nourishment?

Beneath another shirt, you discover a scraggly object. It’s chestnut colored, wavy strands that sends a creeping shivering down your spine. You quickly drop the Petunias t-shirt over it, as if to hide some vile creature from sight, and peer around the room again.

Damn it. No light décor or metal objects you can arm yourself with. You’ll have to be quick.

The door gives a creak when you swing it open, revealing a small galley kitchen.

Your heart skips – dread douses you – you freeze when you see the figure standing opposite you at the far end of this small building. He turns, arms falling from the curtained window, to look at you.

You reel backward; your hands reach and claw for something, anything that might help you in this horrible circumstance.

Right back where you started. You made it barely a foot out of your prison.

Your captor descends upon you. You shriek, push and shove against him but his weight follows you, presses you down on the bed.

His palm stifles your cries while he easily restrains you.

“Awake are we?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to hear his voice. You close your eyes. You don’t want to look at him – afraid that your eyes are deceiving you.

He tsks. “Don’t be a brat. We can make this part quick.”

Growling, you shake his hand away and snap at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? Let me go.”

He scoffs at the additional impolite names you call him.

Panting, you glare at him. “What do you want?”

“You gonna play nice?”

You try to headbutt him.

He sighs in irritation.

Your wrists are snuggly wrapped and tied to one bed post. You lean away from him as much as possible where you sit on a corner of the mattress, cutting him with a glare.

He still hasn’t answered you. That cold dread weighs down in your gut as you force another question out.

“What did you do to Jake?”

“Jake?” His smile grows.

“Don’t play with me! That’s his shirt. He – he has a family. His sister and niece, they’re…” Your words die on your lips as he starts laughing.

“Oh, sugar,” he says with a fond look your way. “Time to break the bad news to you. Your buddy Jake is…Well, you wanna take a guess?”

“You hurt him?”

The cold smile does not waver. You swallow down the lump in your throat. You already know the answer.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hanging,” he purrs at you, waiting for your next guess.

You’re not ready to accept it, despite the tangible evidence in front of you. Despite the bright t-shirt lying in the closet. Covering the brunette wig. It can’t be true.

This man’s face, his nose, his lips. You feel like you’re going mad as you keep being pulled back to those blue eyes. The glasses are gone; you can see his full brows, the aquamarine of his irises. That laugh that sounded wrong, even though the tenor flows through you in familiar waves.

His hair is now a natural deep brown. It's shorter, lacking the gel that previously held it up in blonde spikes. The wig must have just been a precaution for when he showed up at your office. And his facial hair is grown out more evenly and that alone could have transformed the man you thought you knew.

He disappeared months ago.

You study his eyes – you know their exact color – and recognize the mirth glinting beneath dark lashes. But your heart starts racing when his signature crooked smile doesn’t appear. Instead, a hard smirk twists his face into a stranger.

“Jake…” Maybe you hope invoking his name as you know it will make this all go away - will make the world make sense again. Maybe you want to cling to an impossible salvation.

He scoffs softly, a quiet murmur of your name on his lips, almost remorseful. Almost.

“The name’s Robert.”

Gone is the awkward, clumsy colleague you had grown close to. The man you formed a slow companionship with during late office hours sharing fast food while ranting about administration or complaining about the local asshole that stood at the corner of your block shouting right-wing rhetoric to people trying to get to work.

Gone is Jake Jensen, the cute nerd you called friend.

Robert Pronge closes in, looms before you. His fingers skim your jawline before he grips your face tight, deliberate.

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” he says, dipping even closer so his lips graze your cheek. You grow stiff at the gentle affection. His grip loosens enough that you can drop your gaze.

“I…d-don’t know you.” You don’t know this man. “I don’t.”

Robert watches as you press your forehead to your hands. He supposes it’s normal - you haven’t arrived at acceptance of reality yet. Your frame clenches with stress, the physiological response to danger. Robert has witnessed this countless times with countless hits.

A breathy chuckle tickles your skin. He knew you well enough at this point. “You’re a smart one, sugar.”

“No, no, no…”

“And you know now that ole Jake Jensen. Never existed.”

Faced with this man’s remorseless confession, you steel yourself for the inevitable.

“Are you – are you going to kill me?” You raise your eyes. You'll look at this man's face one last time, you won't be deceived in your final moments.

That dark chuckle returns.

“You think I risked showing up in town just for a quick kill?"

He cages you in, enclosing you between arms thick with muscle.

"No, sugar. Wouldn’t wanna waste a sweet thing like you.”

His mouth is on yours and for several seconds, the heated, hungry pressure stuns you. Confuses you. You squawk at the sensation of him probing for a deeper taste, and start twisting out of his hold.

Strong fingers tighten in your hair and make you whimper in pain, stilling enough for his tongue to delve into your mouth.

A quiet moan of satisfaction rumbles through Robert when he accesses the hot taste of you for the first time.

Robert decided long ago. Once his mask is peeled back – that blonde, chirpy mask – he’s taking you as his. And he’ll make sure you get to know the real him intimately.

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

A/N: Hurrah! I have been wanting to write a Jekyll and Hyde inspired fic for a while. Tis the season and all, so I present to you all: "Jensen and Pronge." muahahaha. I am trying to plan this out as a multipart fic. 😏 I'm gonna try to make this soft!dark bc that's the kind of shit I'm into.

[theelvenhaven]

Elves Dressing Up for Halloween

Gondolin

Halloween Request:  Hello! For a Halloween request, could I ask for headcanons of what the elves of Gondolin would dress up as for a costume? Would any be extremely hesitant? Would any be receptive to couples costumes? Thank you (and if not, thanks for taking time to read this!) 😌 - @sterling-roses

* * *

Turgon

Turgon honestly isn’t one for dressing up at all on Halloween and will not be partial to even couples costuming. If anything he would much rather host a party and keep his usual attire than have to dress up as anything. Even if it is customary. 

At most you may get a masquerade mask on him and that is as far as it will go. So every year, being quite the creature of habit, he prefers to go as a King than let his hair down a little and relax. Though Turgon will support you in almost whatever costume you decide to go in AS LONG AS it is appropriate. 

Nothing inappropriate or overly sexual as Turgon is a little bit of a prude. Though he won’t fight you too hard and be considerably flustered all night over it and bite his tongue. He’ll eventually grow used to whatever costume he may not find appropriate but it certainly takes some time for him to get used to it. 

Glorfindel

Glorfindel loves dressing up, being the big ray of sunshine that he is, and has a lot of fun dressing up! He is really creative and thinks outside the box on the costume ideas that he comes up with. 

And when you ask him to dress up in couples costuming he immediately jumps at the chance to be able to do so. Glorfindel also loves to be able to help create these said out of the box costumes too. For example you have a ton of cardboard boxes at your disposal, he will absolutely spend the time to make a costume out of it. Robot? Fish tank? Washing Machine? He’ll put it together.

Glorfindel also really loves puny costume ideas too. Anything that can be a big play on words he is bound to figure out an idea for you both to wear. No matter how ridiculously cheesy that idea might be, Glorfindel will absolutely run with it. He has a blast coming up with the ideas. 

You are absolutely welcome to assist in coming up with something, Glorfindel loves to hear any of your ideas. And if you are more partial to an idea that you have, he is happy to relent to you and get your costumes put together with whatever theme you prefer. Either way, Glorfindel is just really happy to spend time with you like this!

Ecthelion

Ecthelion is pretty rigid and formal and strict, so when it comes to dressing up for Halloween, he isn’t all too elaborate in dressing up. If anything he may add an accessory or two to a really nice outfit, but it is never anything over the top. 

So when you suggest couples costuming, Ecthelion is a little hesitant to join you in any of the ideas that you might have. They might need to start off relatively conservative and more classic like Period specific costuming or Historical Figures or something Masquerade style. 

He feels a little odd all dressed up, especially since it is not the one or two accessories that might dress up his costume. But Ecthelion trusts you deeply to not put him in something ridiculous or make him look ridiculous and tries to enjoy the fun of the night all dressed up. 

I do not recommend really letting him choose in the beginning of your costume couple planning because he will not venture even into the more conservative spaces. Choosing to keep it more to what he is already comfortable with. 

Rog

Rog loves to dress up and though he does, his costumes can be pretty simple. Happy to dress up and throw together whatever he might have at home. Even if it means wearing work attire for Halloween. A blacksmith is technically a costume. 

So when you suggest couples costuming, Rog is really happy to let you take the reins and lead the way on what to dress up as! He’s a lot of fun and can easily get super into character with it. Such as if you want to dress him up like he walked right out of Woodstock 1960 and give him a few verbal cues to use, he will shamelessly use them. 

Rog’s a big ball of fun and the life of the party, and after the first time you two couples costume expect to couples costume from then on out. Cops and Robbers, Period Costuming, Heavenly Themed, Character Specific, whatever it may be he is down for it (unless it is offensive). The ellon will absolutely costume with you in those inflatable costumes and have a ball with it. Inflatable sumo or dinosaur is absolutely up for grabs. 

Just know you will probably have to have it custom made and fitted for him properly. And Rog will absolutely try to wrestle or horseplay with someone in the said inflatable costumes. Anticipate that he may go home in it with it deflated because he will eventually pop it.

Penlod

Penlod in his true fashion is dressing up as a Historical Figure. You’ve told him how costumes work and that he can be anything he wants to be, and the ellon is going to choose the most interesting Historical Figure he can. 

He will absolutely be as detailed accurate as he can be, from the costume and to the accessories. Penlod puts a lot of attention into his costume and the little pieces that bring it all together. 

Penlod will absolutely do couples costumes together, but he will not budge on it not being a historical figure. He WILL consider being a regular civilian in x time period if thats what you wish! Ancient Greece? 1400′s Renaissance? French Rocco? 1800′s? 1920′s? 50′s? You name it and he will dress up as it. He’s a sucker for histories and will happily spend time compiling a costume that is just as detailed as his!

You both will absolutely look like you’ve walked right out of the era you two dressed up as. With Penlod indulging facts about the era to anyone who will listen to him. 

Egalmoth

Egalmoth loves being able to dress up really exquisitely and jumps at any opportunity to be able to do so. His costumes are so incredibly elaborate and gem and fine stitch filled they’re absolutely heavenly to look upon. 

Sometimes he really doesn’t even pick a theme of what he wants to dress up as when it comes to Halloween. Egalmoth just wants to dress up nicely, he’s a little bit of the “he’s got the spirit but is confused” saying. Though he is absolutely  aware that he is supposed to pick a theme. He just chooses to not always do so.

He will absolutely couples costume with you, but when he does, Egalmoth absolutely wants to pick the theme. He’s bold so he is unafraid to pick unearthly themes like dressing up as the Vala of such regal nature, or Ancient Gods in rich costume style or Angels or Monarchy. Anything that allows him to be able to put you both in an incredibly unearthly and regal status he is here for. 

Anticipate that Egalmoth, like Penlod, has an extreme eye for detail. So no expense will be spared and your simple costume will quite quickly become a luxurious and intricate affair. 

Galdor

Galdor is really go with the flow and has a knack for choosing a good costume with his more go with the flow nature. Though he won’t really dress up unless he finds it necessary to do so for like a party. If he’s solo on Halloween he’s more likely to just stay cozy. But when it comes to couples costuming, he is all for it!

Galdor’s only preference is that he prefers the nature themes, but he won’t strictly adhere to them and will explore other costume themes with you. The only line he will draw is if he finds any of the themes to be vulgar or offensive in anyway.

Whether you two are Witches and Wizards together or the Angel and Devil, Galdor is going to be happy to meet your expectations. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor though and will be happy to dress up in awkward costumes or whatever other humorous costuming you might come up with.

Maeglin

Maeglin is completely and totally hesitant at the idea of dressing up as anything. The idea of just dressing up as whatever, just seems like an open line for someone to possibly criticize what he has chosen and that is an immediate dislike for Maeglin. 

As for couples costuming its really really REALLY going to take some convincing to get him to participate. If anything, the first few Halloweens he is probably not going to be receptive to any of it at all. Totally opting to just tagging along while you dress up. 

Though he gives in to the peer pressure of everyone asking him where is his costume or hearing how it would be cute if you two dressed up together. Maeglin absolutely lets you choose what you want to dress up as, but I warn that you might want to start out far more conservative and safe options like him being a Knight and you being a Princess/Prince or perhaps you’re both Pirates or maybe you dress up like Ancient Greeks/Romans. 

Something that isn’t going to be too over the top, but just enough out of his comfort zone people will recognize that you dressed up. 

* * * 

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @someoneinthestars @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdyely @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog​ @achasiel​

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,208 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: None really! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Daryl hide from the world for a day.

Your name: submit What is this?

Surprisingly, you were the first to wake up again. Daryl was still wrapped around you, deeply asleep and you laid there for a little while, appreciating his weight, his warmth, his smell, before you began to stir. He shifted a little as you turned over so you were facing him. You smiled at the peaceful expression on his face and couldn’t help pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Mmm.” He responded with a sleepy noise and by more tightly pulling you into him. You pressed another kiss to his lips and his strong arms pulled you over on top of him as he rolled onto his back, holding you firmly against him, his eyes still closed.

“G’morning,” you whispered. You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face and he leaned into the contact and sighed again. “I’ve never seen you this sleepy or relaxed,” you commented softly.

His hands ran down from your shoulder blades and pressed into the small of your back. “Mhm. Well, I ain’t ever had ya layin’ on top of me,” he said, the realization striking him suddenly as he said it aloud. He held you more tightly and you grinned. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“No,” you agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “You haven’t.” You pressed another one closer to his jawline and then noticed that his eyes were wide open now. You grinned at the reaction.

He glanced at you and met your eyes, which were crinkled at the corners in a smile.

“What’re ya doin’?” he drawled, eyeing you carefully.

“Nothing,” you said innocently, gently moving aside his shirt just a tiny bit to expose some of the skin next to his collarbone. You pressed a kiss there, too.

He let out an exhale that had the edge of a growl to it and you laughed.

“I’m just trying to wake you up,” you said sweetly.

He playfully flung you off him, down onto the bed beside him and leaned up on his elbow. “I’m awake, woman. Trust me.”

You bit your bottom lip and grinned at him again. You reached out pushed his hair out of his face again, giving him a fond and somewhat disbelieving look. “Daryl Dixon,” you said, shaking your head.

He nervously pressed his lips together and shrugged, relishing the feeling of your hand now resting gently on the side of his neck. He looked suddenly insecure and boyish. He hummed a vague, questioning noise and you sat up and peered down at him. “You drive me crazy. In the best ways,” you said. You climbed out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and went into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Daryl was left, anxiously drumming his fingers against his stomach where they rested, thinking about the feeling when you had just kissed up his neck, along his collarbone. He felt that familiar swell of warmth and pushed a frustrated hand back into his hair. He wanted that. He wanted more than that… but opening up in that way was hard… and this was all so new—at least in reality. In truth and despite his previous best efforts, he had fantasized about you doing just that and a lot more for so long, but he found that now it was happening he was worried about doing or saying the wrong thing or—or you discovering that he wasn’t enough for you or wasn’t who you thought he was—or any number of stupid things his brain insisted on fixating on.

You emerged from the bathroom, bright-eyed and content, as he was struggling through these thoughts and he sat up abruptly, drawing a smile from you. But you noticed he looked worried and you paused.

“What is it?” you asked him, starting back toward him on the bed.

He ducked his head and shook it, his mouth twitching to one side as he was thinking. “S’nothin’,” he drawled.

You crossed the space to him and sank back down on the bed beside him. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nah,” he said dismissively. “S’nothin’.” You were inclined to still worry, except that he reached out and rested his hand on your knee gently, his thumb tracing circles on the denim of your jeans so lightly it was like a whisper or a breeze.

You smiled at him and rested your hand on top of his, giving him a warm smile that always startled him, the way it went through him to his core. “I wish we could just have a day,” you said. “One day. Where we don’t have to think about The Saviors, or talk about them, or have nightmares about them… or worry about what’s coming.”

“We can,” he said. “Of course we can.”

You gave him a skeptical look and let out a wry laugh. “But—everyone is here. And the whole reason they came—”

“Ya. I know. But we can have a day. You of all people deserves one,” he said.

You shrugged and sighed, your eyes turning down toward the floor. “You do.”

“Because I was a dumbass and didn’t listen to ya and got taken? Nah.”

“Hey—” You quickly reached out for him, your hands landing on his sides. “Quit that. You had your reasons,” you soothed.

He avoided your eyes for a moment, struggling again with regret and guilt. You saw it in his eyes as the turmoil crested in them, and you decided to break it off before he tumbled too far down that deep, dark well. You sat up on your knees and clasped his face, gently turning it so he would look at you. Your eyes flickered between his. “Kiss me,” you said softly.

Daryl felt a burst of electricity in his chest and there was no way he could or would ever want to deny that request. His arm snaked around your lower back and he easily pulled you into him, loving the way your arms naturally looped around his neck and how the smile on your lips grew the closer you got to him. He flattened his hand out on your lower back, the gentle pressure secure and comforting, and with the other he smoothed your hair away from your face before gently clasping it.

He watched with amazement as your eyes closed and your lips were already parting softly in anticipation, even before he leaned in and pressed his to them. Each time your lips met his it felt like the first time all over again, goosebumps and tingles raising on your arms and running up your back, electricity sparking on your tongue. And you moved so easily together, like you were one. You kissed each other hungrily, the way you should when you had been waiting so long. Daryl’s fingers tangled in the ends of your hair and he could feel you smiling into the kiss. He still found it bewildering that this was even happening, that you wanted this, and his heart ached with how much he wanted you too. It was so easy for him to get lost in you, and that scared him, but at the same time it told him this was right where he should be.

When you finally broke apart you were smiling at him still and you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him, your fingers grazing along the stubble on his strong jaw, the light in your eyes staggering. Daryl looked back at you like you were something precious to him, and you were.

“What are we doing with our one day, then?” you asked him, running your fingers through his wavy hair, twisting a strand around one finger.

Daryl’s mouth curved in a small smile. “I say not a damn thing,” he drawled. You grinned at him.

“That sounds perfect.”

The next instant you let out a surprised squeak and laughed as he pulled you back down on top of him on the bed. His arms wrapped around you and you settled in against the crook of his neck. His fingers traced up the gentle curve of your spine and followed the edge of your shoulder blade, drawing light circles around your back.

“What’d you do? Before all of this,” he asked you. You could feel the reverberation of his deep voice in his chest.

“Does it matter?” you asked quietly.

“Mmm. I dunno. Sometimes it does.”

“I don’t think it matters anymore,” you said quietly. “I’m not the same person.”

Daryl’s hand ran down your spine. He let his fingers memorize the curve of your back as he thought about his past. Somehow just holding you made remembering the worst parts of it more bearable. “Ya. I guess thas true. I ain’t either.”

You leaned up so you could look down at him. “I have a question,” you said. Daryl’s eyes caught yours and he took in the sparking light in them.

“Alright,” he said, feeling a little nervous, but not entirely sure why. You never pressed him for anything.

“When did you know?”

One of his eyebrows quirked up in a question.

“That—that you had feelings for me beyond friendship,” you said.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed thoughtfully. He absently chewed his bottom-lip as he thought about the history of all your interactions together. “I dunno. Part of me knew right away I think. When I watched you punch Spencer out,” he said, glancing back over at you, one corner of his mouth turning up in amusement.

“Oh, God,” you said, putting a hand over your face and laughing.

“But then it was like… I don’t know. It felt like—like every time I saw you it was more. That damn dress ya had on at Aaron and Eric’s. When ya walked over when neither of us could sleep, always with a book in your hand. Feeling almost frantic when ya went outside the walls and came back with that gash in your arm. Even when ya wouldn’t stop drinking outta that damn whiskey bottle and ya pushed me in the pond.” You grinned, and he took it in. “The hospital run when ya saved both our asses. When ya finally came and had dinner with our group. I don’t know. Was like it happened gradually and all at once at the same time.” He gulped a little nervously. “But when they took me and threw me in that cell, the worst thing about it was the thought that I might never see ya again and thinkin’ he was gonna get to ya, or maybe already had ya. Never even crossed my mind that ya’d come back on your own, put yourself back there with him. And seein’ ya open that door—” Daryl broke off and shook his head, avoiding your eyes now.

Your heart ached and you clasped his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Daryl smoothed a hand from your shoulder down your arm gently and looked back over at you. “What about you? When’d ya know?” he asked. It still felt impossible.

You smiled at the archer and bit your bottom lip. “When you fell through that rotten floor,” you said.

His blue eyes narrowed in a classic Daryl Dixon stare. “Ya serious?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, grinning at him.

“…Can ya pick a different time?” he asked, drawing laughter from you.

“No!” You laughed and ran your fingers back through his hair, loving how he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “It was being stuck out there in that house with you. Just—passing the time together. And then, of course… those assholes showed up. And you just—you were so worried about me.”

Daryl’s eyes were open again and fixed on your face. He nodded. “Ya. I was. I am.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But we’re okay.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, flattening his palm out against yours, looking at how small yours looked compared to his before lacing his fingers with yours. “Mhm. S’weird. Even though we’re about to kick a fuckin’ hornet nest with those Saviors… I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been,” he said, almost realizing it himself just as he said it.

You grinned at him again. “Me too.”

Daryl pulled you in for a deep kiss that left you breathless.

You spent the day wandering from nothing to nothing, content just to be with each other, talking and laughing, questioning one another about anything that popped in your mind, pretending that everything looming ahead simply wasn’t. That evening, Daryl had his feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch and you were laying with your head in his lap, a book in your hands. He was simply leaning back and enjoying the weight of you close to him, his hand resting on the bare skin of your upper arm, tracing the long scar he had stitched for you as was becoming a habit.

You lowered your book suddenly and marked the page, tossing it down onto the table. You turned and took in Daryl’s relaxed shoulders, his head resting gently back against the couch. He cocked one eye open at you as you shifted and straddled over his lap with a warm smile on your face, running your hands down his sides and letting out a satisfied and content hum of a sigh.

His blue eyes opened and fixated on your face. He straightened up, his hands flying to gently rest on your hips. He was studying you and you saw him turning something over in his mind. You waited patiently. He loved that about you. You didn’t pressure him and yet you could always sense when he had something on his mind.

He nervously chewed his lip for a moment, which always killed you. “Listen—this mornin’…”

You gave him a questioning look. “Mhm?”

“It’s not like—It ain’t that I didn’t want—I do want—” He broke off, his eyes guarded just a little, and you just gave him time.

You suddenly realized what he was struggling with, the intimacy of your kisses. “Hey. It’s okay,” you said softly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Daryl.”

He looked up at you, surprise on his countenance. This was uncharted territory for him. Bringing it up again, he’d almost expected you to be angry or upset or sad or to needle him, to think he had rejected the intimacy—but why? Had you ever been unreasonable with him or treated him unkindly? Never. Not once. You were constantly patient, supportive, caring, tender… When he’d first met you, he recognized your standoffish and disconnected attitude was a guard. He knew it immediately because he did it himself. But underneath that, with patience and time he was happy to put in, he realized you were soft underneath. You gave a shit about him, and really about everyone else. For all your talk about hating people, your actions seemed to constantly affirm the opposite. And you were especially thoughtful, sweet, tender to him. Just him.

But Daryl’s whole life he had been taught that being treated nicely was conditional—and it was conditional on him and his behavior. He was trained to expect blowback at every turn. But being with you was never like that, and now that you were trying to be more together, he was discovering how much he still needed to unlearn.

He seemed lost in his thoughts for a long moment, struggling to process everything. You slipped your fingers into his hair and his eyes closed at your touch. “I’m right here. Still here. And I’m not going anywhere,” you said. “This goes at whatever pace you need it to go. And it goes wherever you want it to.”

He gulped and his eyes flitted open again. He studied your expression. “I just—it’s hard for me to—” He broke off again, giving you a look eyes that seemed fill with uncertainty. “There are some things I haven’t told ya yet.”

You considered him carefully and nodded. “I know.” You sighed and looped your arms around his neck. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about any of that. This is just you and me,” you said.

Daryl’s heart raced from your words and your touch and he shook his head just a little, giving you a puzzled look. “How the hell—how’d I pull this off?” he asked, his fingers finding your hair again.

You laughed and peered back at him earnestly. “I’ve been asking myself the same damn thing since you grabbed me and kissed me back. To think I’d find someone like you now, in this world, and after purposely closing myself off the way I did… Doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

Daryl’s lips crashed back down onto yours and you were lost in each other again. The heat between the two of you was building and you were reeling with the sensation of him when there was obnoxiously a knock at the door.

Daryl’s lips left yours and you let out a small disappointed noise. “Noooo…” You sighed. “Ugh.” You shut your eyes and leaned your forehead against his. “Who the hell is that?”

Daryl’s hands were on your waist. “I dunno, but I’m gonna kill ‘em,” he joked, eliciting a laugh from you before he slipped out from underneath you, placing you gently down on the couch. He grabbed his bow, and went to the door.

He pulled it open to see Maggie on the top step. “Hi,” she said. “Sorry. Just—didn’t see you or Y/N today and just wanted to make sure everything was alright. Especially after last night,” she said, referring to the nightmare you had. “Sorry again about breakin’ the door in… and the guns…”

“S’alright. We’re all good,” Daryl said.

“Good,” she said, her smile widening. She gave him a knowing look and the archer felt his cheeks growing pink. “Well, I think tomorrow mornin’ we’re all gonna meet again and then I think Rick and the others are planning to head back to Alexandria. Get things goin’.”

“Alright. We’ll be there,” Daryl said. “Your trailer?” Maggie nodded. “Alright.”

“Night,” Maggie said, giving him a fond look, absently smoothing her hand over her stomach.

Daryl shut the door behind her and you laughed as he rushed back to the couch and playfully sunk down over you. You grinned up at him as he smoothed the hair away from your face, his body hovering over yours.

“Today was a good day,” you said through your smile.

He nudged his nose up in a nod to you. “One of the best,” he agreed. Then he captured your lips in a deep kiss again.

[astrolovecosmos]

The Signs and Boundaries

Aries typically doesn't have issues with people breaking their boundaries, but if they do, one tip to rebuild those fences is by protecting the self through privacy, be more mindful of who you tell secrets to or share your intentions with. Aries don't have a problem saying no but through their openness and trusting nature can their boundaries be unhealthily crossed. Growing a skeptical and realistic side may be beneficial next time they jump to help someone or have the desire to please another without considering their needs.

Taurus can easily be pressured into pleasing others or keeping the peace. They are a sign that highly desires stability and contentment. But they need to remember to use that stubborn side to say no more often, to stay on the path of what makes them happy. Overcoming fear of instability or losing someone is important for a Taurus building up boundaries. Accepting change is the constant can be helpful, letting go of control or expectations in relationships is empowering.

Gemini’s talent for talking their way out of trouble can actually be a good defense for those trying to break through their boundaries. Their natural desire for space and independence can also help with those trying to control them, guilt trip them, take advantage, or impose. But Gemini is a social, forgiving, supportive, and flexible sign that can have a huge desire to befriend others, gather information, learn, and fit in. A tip for healthier boundaries is a practice in assertion and giving solid stances. Of course a Gemini's opinions may change, they can be change and duality itself, but it is about being firm in what they are saying and feeling in the moment.

You would think Cancer's guarded nature would help them build strong and healthy boundaries, but this sign is giving and sacrificing, having a desire to take care of others. Discernment is needed when dealing with those who would take advantage. But there is a line Cancer must learn to balance between protecting their own heart and becoming closed off due to fear or bias. A Cancer must be careful of not becoming all or nothing when it comes to building up boundaries, are those healthy boundaries or stone cold walls?

Leo does have a huge desire to entertain and please! Their generous and trusting side could get used and abused. You'll hear a lot of themes about self-empowerment via confidence and self-expression with a Leo, and these themes can help with setting boundaries. For Leo there is an importance in possible detachment from expectations, admiration, and possibly ego. They may seek "applause" either tangibly or metaphorically and there's protection in valuing what is authentic and intimate by separating public vs. private, want vs. need.

Virgo despite any hard or overly practical reputation can certainly struggle with keeping healthy boundaries. With a desire to serve and care combined with a flexible, humble, and appreciative personality you can imagine how easily they feel imposed upon or used. Sometimes a Virgo needs to learn how to say no or to refuse to get involved - especially when no one asks them to. Other times Virgo must not rationalize their way out of a situation because despite the logical impulse to do so, it could generate guilt in the future, maybe instead value protecting one's self, value not getting burnt out or drained, approach a situation mentally in this way instead of giving a purely logical reason not to help someone or be used by someone. 

Libra - the famous people pleaser. For Libra the goal is to say "no" and overcome fear of conflict, but the work up to that takes inner honesty, understanding what they want, and to be real - practice. Practice makes perfect and Libra is a sign that could use some practice in asserting themselves and setting stronger boundaries. Libra's relationship with independence and dependence can be a topic to discuss when it comes to boundaries. Is there a fear of being alone or just a desire to partner with another? Is it about status, competition, or companionship? There are no wrong answers, just self-reflection and honesty for Libra. Taking care of the self, learning to love being alone with the self is important, fostering independence can be so empowering when it comes to building stronger boundaries for Libra, after all being an air sign - independence and space may be something they fall in love with.

Scorpio’s boundaries can easily be crossed, and they may cross other's boundaries frequently too. Their desire for rawness and intimacy + water's compassion, reception, sacrificing nature, and caring makes them susceptible to burn out, over extending, being used or abused due to unhealthy or non-existing boundaries. For Scorpio accepting that they cannot control people is helpful along with understanding you may get hurt but that is the nature of love and trust. Objectivity or being able to put themselves into other people's shoes can be helpful. Scorpio’s black and white take on the world can cause misunderstandings and disappointment. Sometimes it just takes a lesson learned via experience that not everyone has good intentions for better boundaries, but they need to be careful of being paranoid or distrustful to the extreme. 

Sagittarius ain't one to let you hold them back, most burn out is due to themselves and they are self-focused, they won't get caught up on other's guilt trips or manipulation BUT they can be overly open, naïve, and have high hopes which shows where their boundaries can be broken. Coming down to earth with skepticism or realism and understanding not everyone is as honest or good-natured as Sagittarius is one step towards better boundaries. It is Sagittarius’s  high expectations that is the hardest to overcome. This is the sign of hope, belief, and optimism, and I don't think it is right or fair to say they have to curb this completely but learning when to let go of an impression or belief of something/someone is important. 

Capricorn is usually a sign that does not struggle with loose boundaries, but a desire to conform, provide, protect, be part of/give back to society, or to prove something may give a window of opportunity for boundaries being crossed and them feeling used, underappreciated, or burned out. It is Capricorn’s own guilt, self-criticism, and pressure they must be careful of. You bet there are people out there who will take advantage of how a Capricorn beats themselves up. Capricorn must know their worth, rely on their stability, and accept love or help from others when it is offered. 

Despite Aquarius's detachment and aloofness they can be a sucker sometimes for peer pressure and at times their humanitarian trait can be taken advantage of. Aquarius is independent, is the rebel, but their desire to belong to a group, to fight for a cause, to connect socially, to connect mentally can all lead to being easily influenced by a group of people, by trends, by the collective. Aquarius’s  celebration of individually and separation is one way to help overcome this, another is through intimacy with another. One super supportive friend or adoring lover could give them better insight into why the "few" can be more powerful at times than "the many". Living by the code, "fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me" may be something an Aquarius who struggles with boundaries may want to pick up. Learning to help those who want to help themselves.

Pisces, the queen/king of dissolved boundaries. First there is an upside to crossing boundaries but that is for a whole different convo, in this piece we are talking about unhealthy lack of boundaries. Pisces desire to merge, help, care, and sacrifice creates this atmosphere. Before Pisces can say no and concentrate on protecting the self they need to recognize the downside of crossed boundaries. It comes so naturally, even recognizing a lack of boundaries can be a challenge. There must be awareness about how nonexistent or thin boundaries can cause Pisces to be used or abused OR can even cause them to drain another or a relationship. It isn't always about asking what they want or need but protecting those things and going after those things.  For Pisces it's about not fearing being alone or being separate. It can be about fostering their individuality or general confidence. The merging of souls, feelings, individuality can be a beautiful thing, but so can being your own person.

[jincherie]

say so | knj & ksj [m]

! —  COMMISSION  — !

❥ — pairing: namjoon x reader x seokjin ❥ — genre: poly, 1950s au/rockabilly au, smut, childhood f2l, angst, fluff, musician!namjin, burlesque!mc ❥ — words: 24.5k+ ❥ — rating: 18+ ❥ — warnings: light angst, pining, smut !!!; oral (all kinds), anal, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, edging, light switch!joon, light switch!oc, harder dom!jin, double pentration, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl etc.... if I forgot sometihng I will add it later but for now this is it fellas. ❥ — notes: oh my god I am FINALLY ejecting this fic from my brain !!! part of the reason this took so long was, of course, the current circamstances across the world mixed in with a few personal factors, but also because I haven’t written a ‘historical’ fic before and I wanted to make sure I got it right ! of course, that somehow ended with me going way over word count so i am so sorry for that, but i truly hope you like it! I haven’t gone over it yet but i will do that later, i just wanted to post and get this fic out of my asshole

Returning to your hometown for a week is something you’ve managed to avoid for three years, but when you can finally put it off no longer you find upon arrival the very thing you were scared of encountering. When the two famous childhood friends you haven’t spoken to in years have returned at the same time as you, you can’t quite tell whether you’re going to be able to make it out in one piece or emerge with a heart more wounded than before.

Especially since it turns out the feelings you thought you were over never quite went away.

— masterlist |  posted; 17.08.2020

You didn’t really expect to find yourself back here so soon, but here you are— everything in your room is in exactly the same state as it was three years ago.

The covers on your bed, the magazine cuttings, faded posters and hand-painted canvases that mark the phases of your youth hung on your wall—even the light-toned floral wallpaper and the little knickknacks atop your dresser are the same. It makes something like nostalgia rise within you, a reminiscent haze filtering through your thoughts. It has been too long since you’ve been back here, and the guilt that always lingers in the back of your mind now pushes its way to the forefront. You feel bad, not having been back to your childhood home in so long, despite the reasons you had for moving away.

You haven’t been here all that long, but as soon as you finished talking with your parents downstairs your feet had carried you here, more out of habit that anything. Absentmindedly, you brush your hand over the oak of your dresser, curious when your fingertip comes back without a single speck of dust. Your mother must have come through often to clean. The realisation both warms your heart and compounds the guilt you feel, making you frown.  In an effort to distract yourself, you turn your gaze back to the rest of your old room, catching sight of a few photographs plastered above your study desk. You know what they contain, and still you can’t seem to help yourself as you draw closer and peer at them anew. They’re just as familiar to your eyes as you expected.

Of course, in this house you’d be lucky to find a photograph of you that didn’t also have these two in it. 

Your eyes skip over the older ones with yellowing glaze and curled corners to focus on the most recent-looking image, drinking in the two boys you’d spent the entirety of your childhood and teen years with. Easily your best friends, until… well, until three  years ago. A fond smile fights its way to your lips; you remember when this was taken. Your mother had lined the three of you up for a photo in the yard but at the very last second they’d pushed you into the pool. Both boys stand tall in the image, but you’d recognise the taller one with the goofy grin anywhere, even if his face wasn’t already plastered across newspapers and featuring on the television every other evening. Namjoon is just as boyish in the image as you recall, and next to him where they stand laughing over the pool is Seokjin, appearance every bit as neat and clean as you’ve glimpsed in recent years when he has featured in a magazine or program that is particularly popular with the youth. It was always a bit weird to you, a little hard to process, that the two boys you’ve known since the three of you were in diapers are now pretty much, well… celebrities. Something bubbles in your chest, the pressure of a sigh but the weight of something you’re not quite ready to name yet. Distantly, in the back of your mind, a tiny part of you whispers that it tastes a little like regret, and sounds a little like yearning.

Growing up, the two of them had discovered an affinity for music, and you for the arts. You suppose that small difference is what eventually led to the distance that grew between you, before you left— if not for the fact that they found the limelight so naturally and built popularity quicker than anticipated after their individual musical debuts. It really didn’t take them all that long to begin steadily growing their fanbase within the youth of your town, their songs played more and more often on local stations. Before long people even a few cities over caught wind of them, but you didn’t get to see it. By the point they had spread their wings that far, you were already gone.

You wrinkle your nose, not liking this sudden trip down a particular lane in your memory that you’ve been avidly avoiding the past three years. Taking a step back from the desk that the photographs hang above, you desperately search for something else to capture your attention. Fortunately for you, a voice sounds behind you before you can flounder too long.

“Wow, I can’t believe you actually came. How long has it been, forty years?”

You jump slightly, the familiarity of the voice and sheer amount of attitude in the words allowing you to recognise it instantly. You spin, eyes quickly locking onto the familiar head of straight blonde hair and cherubic features that belong to your sister. You’ve kept in touch with her via letter and the occasional call, but other than that this is the first time you’ve seen her in years. She’s a little bit taller than you remember, and she’s filled out a little more now that she’s no longer a gangly teen. You are surprised though to note the absence of the usual distressed denim that she favoured throughout the years. Instead she’s in a neat pair of capris that rise to the dip of her waist, where she has tucked in a bright red blouse beneath a belt. Out of habit, you look down to her feet and catch a glimpse of red canvas shoes that instantly make you want to laugh; your mother never could get her into a pair of heels, even if she managed to get her out of the dungarees that she used to love so much.  Lisa smiles cheekily beneath your scrutiny, opening her arms wide. With a laugh, you throw your own around her, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“You’re so dramatic,” you retort, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it. “Of course I would come to celebrate my own sister’s engagement. I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it.”

“Why does everyone say the same thing when I talk about it?” Lisa groans, pulling back with a familiar pout that seems to have survived her transition into young adulthood. She slips her arm through your own,  giving your bicep a smack as she leads you from the room. “It’s not that hard to believe that I’m getting married! Also— what on earth have you been up to all these years? Have you been attending classes? You’re in such good shape, oh my goodness—”

Unwittingly, your cheeks flush; you probably shouldn’t tell her the real reason for your current physique lest she blab with champagne-loosened lips about it to the rest of your family at her party. Sober Lisa is the only one that knows how to keep a secret, as you’ve found out through a number of shamefully scrawled confessions in the letters she would send you. A number of things you’d confided in her over the years have since been aired like dirty laundry to some of her friends, much to your mutual regret.

“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” you say dismissively, quickly returning to the previous topic as the two of you descend the stairs. “And it’s probably because of all those things you said when you were younger, like how you’d rather live in a mud hut on a deserted island than ever marry a smelly boy riddled with cooties—”

“Ah, yes,” Lisa sighs, the sound more fond and less ashamed than you were expecting. “Those were the days— I was such a badass little ankle-biter. What has become of me? I must be the one riddled with cooties at this point.”

“Probably,” you muse, catching sight of your mother behind the kitchen counter and shooting her a smile as you move past. Lisa is lucky she hadn’t spoken too loudly or else she’d be getting a light smack for her language. It never seemed to stop her when she was younger though, so you doubt it would have an effect now either.

“A skirt at the knee, y/n?” Your mother lets out a dramatic, scandalous gasp upon seeing you. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“These are the clothes that you greeted me in?” You give her a pained look; apparently you need readjusting to her oddball sense of humour. She’s always been a little out of place in the straight-laced, conservative society that marks this day and age; your father too, except he was just a bit more sneaky about it. Actually, now that you think about it, Namjoon and Seokjin’s parents were always a little more on the liberal side too… What an odd coincidence that the three families ended up in a row at the end of the same cul-de-sac.

You’re not deigned with a response, your mother smacking her hands onto the apron she has tied over her baby blue skirt and turning to the oven. You think you hear her muttering about ‘time’ and ‘darn apple pies always taking too long to cook’ and can’t help the way your mouth waters in response. Gods, is it bad if one of the things you missed the most while away is the apple pies your mother makes?

You turn to Lisa, about to ask her whether the apple pie is something you’re going to be able to steal a piece of, only to find that she’s disappeared into thin air. Fantastic. You’re not staying here while you’re back in town, so you’re unsure whether you’re going to be able to cash in on dinner or whether your mother will hold it over your head a little first. You wander over to the  edge of the kitchen, sticking your head into the living room to peer around; you’re curious as to just how much has changed in the time that you’ve been gone. Not as much as you might have hoped, to your chagrin.

“You still have that ugly old thing,” you observe, unable to help the way that your nose wrinkles in response to the sight of the monstrosity still wearing holes into the carpet of the living room.

“My love,” you mother says, giving you an (affectionate) sharp smack on the shoulder as she slips past you, shooting you a bright grin when the thickness of her skirt knocks you slightly. Apparently she’s finished in the kitchen for now; you glance back to see a bowl of nuts joining the bowl of fruit that had been on the counter earlier. “I’d sooner perish than give up your grandmother’s armchair. Besides…. I do so adore how it never fails to draw your ire.”

“I do hate that thing,” your father utters suddenly from the kitchen behind you, his hand reaching for the bowl of fruit; he has his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, so you figure he must have retired to his study to read after greeting you earlier. He moves just as fast as you remember— your mother didn’t even have a chance to stop him before he was gone as quick as he came, hands full of whatever fruit he couldn’t fit in his mouth. 

“You—!” 

The sound of your father’s laughter tumbles off the walls, and you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You did miss this; the liveliness, the feeling of home. 

“y/n, dear, darling, light of my life…”

You turn to your mother, already knowing what is coming next from her tone. One thing you definitely didn’t miss—

“I forgot when I went past earlier, but could you go and fetch some cream from Barb’s? You know, that little store on the corner, down the road from the diner you always used to—”

You’re already turning towards the front of the house, heading for where you’d left your purse with a fond roll of your eyes. “I know where Barb’s is, Ma! I only went away to study, I didn’t lose my memories!”

Your mother’s cheeky laugh is what bids you farewell as you duck out the door and start on your way.

X – x – x

You’d forgotten just how tempting the treats in Barb’s are.

When you exit the small corner store around an hour or so later (it was hardly any distance to walk, but of course Mrs. Park was keen to hold you hostage long enough to squeeze every single detail out of you she could about your time away) it’s with an overflowing paper bag in your arms that holds more than just the cream your mother sent your for. One look at the apple Danish pastries and cinnamon-sprinkled goodies behind the glass of her counter and you’d been unable to help yourself. Your mother did always say that your sweet tooth would be your undoing. 

Walking through the streets that you grew up becoming so familiar with breeds a certain kind of yearning that swells in your chest and borders on painful. This, you suspect, is because most— if not all— of your memories of this place are intrinsically linked with those of the two men who used to take up such a big part of your life; and that therefore then left such a big hole when they were gone. 

It’s hard not to fall into them, the memories. The candy store where the three of you would scrounge up as many coins as you could and pile them all together to get the best sweets on the shelves; the library where you spent as much time goofing off and getting scolded as you did studying in your senior years; even the drive-in cinema, where you used to take your parents cars for the evening and sit on the hood while poking fun at the latest flick to grace the screen. Being back here is making you face something that you have somehow skilfully managed to avoid up until now—

You miss them, Seokjin and Namjoon. You miss your best friends.

This is something that is hammered home further when you reach the point in your journey home where you pass the place featured most in your memories. Dana’s Dinery, probably the only thing more constant in your life than those two boys and your own family. The pink and red hues of its name and the exposed bulbs decorating the signage are something you remember clear as day, and just the sight of it alone has your mouth watering for the burgers and other fried goods they loved to serve there. The kind of food you know is terrible for you, but that you also just can’t get enough of nonetheless. You’ve spent so many nights there that at some point every single member of staff there knew you by name. Of course, since the three of you were barely seen apart at that time, they knew Seokjin and Namjoon, too. 

You’re tempted to duck in and say hello, and before you can even give it much thought your feet are already angling you in that direction, short heels scuffing against the pavement. Through the window you can see the familiar shiny red booth seats and the similarly upholstered stools that line the counter; behind it is a woman with wild, dark curls thrown back in a bun, a pencil behind her ear. Ah, so Mrs. Cara still works there. A petal of affection unfurls in your chest at the sight of her, but drops to the ground in the next second as your gaze slides to the side and halts on two figures currently seated at the counter.

No way. No way.

You freeze, eyes wide as you stand rooted to the spot for just a moment. You know that logically, they can’t be here, but the profiles you can just barely glimpse from this distance are so eerily familiar to that of Namjoon and Seokjin that you think your heart skips perhaps one too many beats. For some reason, your stomach roils with the urge to flee; you just got around to admitting that you miss them, and yet the second you think you might be seeing them, you want to run away? Honestly, it doesn’t make sense—wouldn’t make sense to anyone else privy to the thoughts currently whipping through your mind. 

But you’re a master at stewing in your own thoughts and feelings, familiar with dissecting them until you understand them to the best of your ability at the time. So you know why you promptly turn on your heel and begin hastily back on your way home, abandoning any plans to go inside the diner. You know why, but you’re not quite ready to dwell on it yet, so you push it to the backburner and do your very best not to think about it the whole walk back.

X – x – x

You’re ashamed.

A huff escapes you, your eyes boring into the ceiling, unfocused. After delivering the cream to your mother (and promptly having the extra sweets confiscated until after dinner, lest you snack away your appetite—you guess that answers your question about whether you’re staying for supper) you decided to retire up here for now. You’d thought that your room might feel a little alien to you after all this time away, but when you’d dragged yourself in and shucked your shoes off at the door, it had welcomed you back with an air of nostalgia and open arms. You’re sprawled across your bed now, arms behind your head as you stare at the ceiling. When you were younger, maybe fourteen, you had decorated it with little stars and planets that you’d painted. Well, it wasn’t just you—some of the more crudely decorated renditions towards the wall are courtesy of Seokjin and Namjoon. You wouldn’t say they’re bad at art, just that they have… well, a distinct style that is very them.

Wait, you’re getting distracted—back to the matter at hand: you’re ashamed. 

At this point in your life, if someone had asked you why that particular emotion might be plaguing you right now, then in all honesty you would have a vast array of reasons to give them. But the answer as to why you’re ashamed right now, lies in the two people you could have sworn you glimpsed earlier. 

Now that there is a little temporal distance between you and that particular moment, you can use logic to assure yourself that there’s no way you actually just saw Namjoon and Seokjin at the diner that you all used to haunt in your youth. But in the moment, when you thought you’d seen them, you fell into a bit of a panic. This, you have determined, is because you are ashamed. It’s a little harder to determine why you’re ashamed in relation to them, but what you’ve managed to discern so far is that you feel to blame for the way things went, at least partially. Or, perhaps its that you fear they blame you for the way things went. In reality, from what you remember, they first began to grow apart from each other, and then they began to grow apart from you. That, of course, isn’t something you can blame yourself for. But, what you can blame yourself for – and here is what you think may be the root of your shame – is that you were the one to up and leave suddenly. You were the one to disappear without even a goodbye, almost. You could have kept in touch if you tried, but you’d basically disappeared off the face of the earth.

You wonder if they blame you, or if they might even resent you because of that.

Well, if they even remember you, that is. They’re pretty much in the big leagues now, you remind yourself. They’re making it mainstream and they’re hot on the heels of the most renowned names in the business. 

You’re not very good at comforting yourself. Not that you really attempted it this time, but usually whenever you do you just end up stewing in your thoughts a little. You don’t even realise you’re glaring at the ceiling in the midst of sorting through your mental mess until a knock at the door jerks you out of it. You turn towards it just as it opens and a head pops inside, a gleam you instantly decide you don’t like shining in Lisa’s eyes.

“Come downstairs,” she says cryptically, beginning to ease back out. She only chimes once more when she’s out of view. “If you don’t, I’ll eat all those pastries you brought back! Keep that in mind!”

What on earth… you’re left absolutely confused for a moment, before her last words sink in and you throw yourself from your bed with haste, not even bothering to put your shoes back on before you dart out of the room. The trip downstairs is treacherous in stockings, but you don’t have time to lose. You’re sister isn’t one to bluff, and you don’t want her anywhere near those pastries!

“Don’t you touch those!” you call in warning as you slide across the hardwood floor in the hall and fly down the stairs. “Lisa, I mean it! If you lay a single finger on those pastries you’ll lose it!”

There’s laughter in the direction of the kitchen, and you’re angled to follow the sound when your eyes catch sight of movement to the side and you freeze on the spot. 

“y/n!” your mother cries, clearly ecstatic that you’ve come down to join her. She’s standing in the hall that leads the front door, talking to some people you can’t yet see. “Look who’s here! My, I haven’t seen these two in almost as long as I hadn’t seen you!”

Something like dread, mixed with an odd spike of anticipation, begins to trickle into your abdomen. All too suddenly you remember exactly who you thought you saw earlier, and realise she can only be talking about two people in particular. 

Nervously, you smooth down your skirt and blouse, shooting your mother a look that you hope isn’t too panicked. She is, of course, oblivious, and simply grabs you by the arm to drag you around the corner. 

“I haven’t seen the three of you together in so long! I missed your handsome faces around here, too. Perhaps the height as well— now there’s no one in the house that can reach the top shelf in the pantry.”

Your mother is babbling, but you can’t bring yourself to mind when it saves you from having to speak yourself. As you’d feared, there are two very familiar people standing before you, hovering on your doorstep with almost nervous energy.

“It has been a while,” a soft tone with the luxurious depth of velvet— Seokjin smiles so charmingly at your mother that you think your heart really might have stopped for a second. When his dark eyes turn to you, there is something swirling in their depths that is in such contrast to the winning smile on his lips that you almost feel your knees shake. “y/n, it’s a lovely surprise to catch you here— we didn’t know you were in town as well.”

“Oh, and what brings you two boys back here?” Your mother asks, all too excited to hear exactly what has been going on in their lives since she saw them last. Thankfully, she saves you from having to answer straight away. “Are you back for long?”

“Just a week,” Namjoon answers, bashful smile juxtaposing the beaten leather of the jacket over his shoulders and the low, rough melody of his voice. Oh dear— “We’re actually here celebrating something with a close friend of ours; we were invited to a… party of sorts, you could say.”

You think you might be safe, that he might not say anything to you just yet, when he turns to you and his eyes flick along your form. He smiles again, this time with his dimples making an appearance. 

“It really has been too long, y/n. I’m glad we managed to run into you.”

You know it’s not a dig at you, but you feel your cheeks flush with shame nonetheless.

“Don’t tell me the three of you haven’t seen each other since she left,” your mother gasps, sending you a look that tells you she is going to be wringing information out of you later.

There’s a slight lull in the conversation that tells you it’s your time to chime in. Before you can, though, Seokjin speaks— still with a smile, despite the slight bite of his words. 

“Ah, yeah,” he says, shaking his head. He leans back slightly, switching his weight to the other leg and crossing his arms over his chest— you try not to look at the way it makes his chest and shoulders strain against the material of his button-up. “We wanted to write, or call, but we didn’t know where she was staying to send it. Made it a little hard to keep in touch.”

Your heart squeezes; that was a dig, that was definitely a dig. And you deserved it, but damn you didn’t realise it would hurt that much. And he hadn’t even said anything direct!

“Oh, well this is perfect then!” Your mother smacks you on the back, a little rougher than necessary, making you cough. “y/n is here for the week, why don’t you all catch up? Lisa’s engagement party is on Saturday so any day other than that should be fine— oh, you two should come, by the way! And invite your mothers too; it’s been too long since we’ve all sat down for tea.”

“That would be wonderful,” Namjoon agrees amicably, nodding his head to your mother. “I’m sure they’d love to take you up on that invite— I did get an earful about how lonely she was when I got home earlier.”

You have to fight a smile at that— Namjoon’s mother does have a penchant for the dramatics. You turn your gaze to the side to find Seokjin’s own already boring holes into you— it takes all your willpower not to jump. When he sees he has your attention, he smiles once more.

“We’d love to catch up,” he says, eyes still holding you captive. “How about dinner tomorrow, at Dana’s? I miss the burgers there.”

You catch Namjoon nodding from the corner of your eye, agreeing with the idea, and swallow your nerves down to flash a smile back. “Of course, that sounds fantastic.”

The two men nod, satisfied for now, and Namjoon pipes up once more as they take a step back.

“Well, we should probably get back— if we’re late for supper today we mightn’t be alive for dinner tomorrow,” he jokes, earning a laugh from your mother. His eyes flick to you, unreadable but holding such heat you almost gasp, “We’ll meet you there at seven tomorrow, y/n. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

“See you, boys!” Your mother waves farewell, jabbing you with her elbow until you join her. “Hurry home!”

They nod with a laugh, and you watch them retreat to their respective homes on either side of yours until your mother closes the door and cuts off your view, turning to you with a look that could mean a number of things. She’s distracted from unleashing a verbal flood on you in the next moment, however, when she catches sight of your feet.

“y/n!” she gasps, tone scolding. “Go put your shoes on! Walking around without them— this isn’t how I raised you, my goodness. You’re going to wear holes in your stockings! Go go go!”

Startled by the way she raises her arm in promise, you yelp and scamper away, back towards the stairs. “Okay, I’m going!”

You’re about halfway up the stairs, petticoat and skirt swishing violently from how fast you scaled them, when she calls after you.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook, missy! You and I are having a long, in-depth chat after dinner!”

You can only resign yourself to your fate.

x - x - x

“I’m in trouble, Mina. Oh, I’m in trouble.”

“It can’t be anything more than the trouble you’re going to be in for wearing holes into the hotel room carpet— stop that! You’re making me anxious!”

You halt mid-pace, sending your friend a pained look. She’s sprawled across the second bed in your hotel room, reading some magazine that touts the latest in makeup and jewellery from some of the more big-name brands.

“Please, just this once, let me be the one having a Diva moment,” you say, almost begging— to your own distaste. You just need someone to vent to, but she’s not exactly being helpful.

“What is this about?” she asks, closing her magazine to pin you with a borderline-grumpy look. “What has your knickers in such a— oh, I love those shorts! Are those new?”

“Uh, yeah. I bought them the other week,” you answer, looking down at the light blue shorts you’d slipped into for comfort’s sake this morning. They’re so comfortable, in fact, that you regret that you’re unable to wear them in public. You quickly shake your head when you realise you’re getting off-topic. “Hey— I told you what this is about! Did you listen to a single thing I said since I got back last night? Do I mean nothing to you?”

“You’re so dramatic,” Mina utters under her breath. “Yes, I was listening! I was just checking we were talking about the same thing!"

The look you give her is dubious at best, "Okay, then what am I talking about?"

"Those two hot cats you grew up with," Mina says, waving her manicured hand dismissively. "What about them is giving you such grief?"

"I ran into them yesterday," you say, eyes unfocused as you fall back into your thoughts once more. "They want to meet for dinner, to catch up."

"Oh, well that's fine," Mina says. "You don't have feelings for them anymore, so it should be alright, yeah?"

You bite your lip, wincing and giving her a look that could only be described as a mixture between sheepish and remorseful.

"Oh, y/n," She sounds a lot like your mother with the tone she's taken now, "Don't tell me..."

"I thought I was over it!" you say, wailing almost, as you throw your arms into the air. "They were already so distant before I left, you know? And it's been so long that I thought the feelings went away."

You huff, one hand on your hip and the other splayed over your face. "But then I saw them yesterday, and I think I nearly had a heart failure. I don't think... that those feelings went away."

When you manage to glimpse her way, Mina is wincing, teeth visible. She reaches up to scratch her hairline, almost dislodging one of the curlers she has wound in her hair. "Well, it's just one dinner... When is it? I'm sure you have plenty of time to get rid of those feelings before you--"

"It's tonight," you say with a certain level of resignation, walking over to your own bed and finally throwing yourself onto it in defeat.

"Tonight?!" Mina positively squawks, scrambling into a sitting position in her disbelief. "Uh, y/n, I do hope you haven't forgotten, but we have a show almost every night Saturday--"

"I know," you bemoan, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the odd marks there-- you don't have the brain space to wonder how they even got up there in the first place. "The dinner will be finished in time, I'm not worried about that. I'm just... worried about what will happen during, you know? It's kind of stupid but... what if they hate me now? I didn't even tell them when I left, didn't give them an address to write me or a number to call..."

"Yeah, that was kind of a rude move," Mina says bluntly, "But I don't think they would invite you to dinner to catch up if they hated you, y'know? They were your best friends, they probably missed the hell out of you."

You ponder her words, unable to pick them apart with logic. "Maybe," you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your blouse."... I did miss them."

"See?" Mina says knowingly, giving you a look before falling back on the bed and reaching for the chunky romance novel that she has perched on the headboard above the bed.. "And who knows— you're a hot catch, they might end up returning those feelings and you might come out of this a lucky woman! Well, probably a bit sore in certain places, but lucky nonetheless—”

"MINA!"

The pillow you threw smacks her square in the face, but does nothing to muffle the cackle she lets out after. God, she's not the first choice to come to for advice, but to her credit you do feel a bit better now.

x- x - x

Seven o’clock that evening finds you hovering nervously outside the doors to Dana's Dinery, hand outstretched to take the handle but unable to follow through completely with the movement. For the moment, you're stuck in your thoughts, and your thoughts are stuck on the same thing that had plagued them earlier in the day.

What's going to happen when you walk in there? When you're seated at the table with them and in the process of catching up? You shouldn't be as fearful of it as you are, but you can't help it. The evolution your feelings for them undertook a few years ago aside, they were still very much your best friends. Their opinion of you... well it sucks, but it still matters to you.

Didn’t stop you from doing what you did though, did it?

Huffing and deciding to ignore the nasty little voice that is attempting to make an already stressful night even worse, you force your limbs into action and simply resign to bite the bullet. If they are upset with you, then being late to dinner certainly won’t help things. 

“y/n! Over here!”

With how quickly they spot you, mere seconds after passing through the doorway, a part of you wonders if they saw you hovering outside like a coward. Shame flushes across your neck and ears at the thought, but you do your best to remain at least outwardly unaffected.

Over in the booth at the very end of the diner, nestled against the window and the wall, the two men who have been haunting your thoughts for more than a day sit. You recognise the booth— it’s your Corner, you always sat there with them, to the point where if the staff saw anyone else sit there when they knew you were coming, they’d politely usher them to a new seat. It makes something shift inside you to see them there again. You don’t feel like you’re in school again, but something else feels akin to that time…

It’s probably the butterflies.

Namjoon is grinning at you widely, waving his arm; he’s ditched the leather from yesterday and is now donning a fitted black button-up that brings a nice contrast against the sun-kissed hue of his skin, though his hair is still swept into its style somewhat half-heartedly. Seokjin next to him is in a tan knit turtleneck sweater, glasses perched on his nose and hair attended to much more neatly than the man next to him. Both men are looking at you as you approach, but their stares (especially Seokjin’s) are a little too intense for you to handle, and you end up looking away as you take a seat across from them. 

The booth is less squeaky than you remember, but somehow just as plush. You place your purse and cardigan onto the red leather next to you, clasping your hands together and offering a tentative smile. The soft rock tumbling from speakers around the diner isn’t going to fill the lull in conversation for very long. “Hey, sorry to have kept you waiting…”

Seokjin raises a brow, and you know in that moment that they did indeed see you hovering outside the diner. You don’t have time to process the embarrassment that follows that realisation, though, before Namjoon begins speaking with a warm smile. 

“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” he informs you, eyes glimmering like he’s just happy to have you here. It makes something painful throb in your chest. “And loosen up, would you? You’re sitting like you’re at a job interview.”

To your embarrassment, a brief internal examination of your posture tells you that he is right. Sheepishly, you allow the tension to drain from your body, leaning forward onto the table slightly. “Sorry,” you mumble, offering a smile. “Guess I’m just a bit wound up from being home. I forgot how chaotic it is here…”

To your surprise, Seokijn snorts; your fears that he was truly upset with you are dispelled somewhat as a lopsided grin tugs his plush lips, eyes meeting yours levelly.  “Tell me about it. My mother had my aunt and the cousins over when I got home. I haven’t felt as exhausted as I did after that night in, well, years.”

You don’t notice the smile Namjoon shoots to the man beside him when he first speaks, but you do notice when he lets out a laugh and beams so brightly that his eyes almost close and something you completely forgot about makes an appearance. His dimples have always been a weak spot of yours, and you’re slightly horrified to find that glimpsing them now has led to a skipped beat in your chest and a flutter in your stomach. 

It’s not looking very good for the state of your old feelings right now…

“You never unwind properly,” Namjoon says, somewhat chastising despite his playful tone. He doesn’t pursue it further, though. Instead, he turns to you with a soft smile. “So, y/n, how was college? If you have replaced us as best friends, I will never forgive you.”

You can’t help the laugh that tumbles from your throat at both his words and his face, Seokjin chuckling to himself in the corner. Still smiling, you tell him that no, you haven’t replaced them, and sort through the events of your first year for something they’d like to hear. 

Just like that, and definitely much easier and less stilted than you feared it would be, the three of you seem to sink back into something like the old dynamic you used to share, conversation beginning to flow and laughter beginning to tumble. There are some small differences, of course. Namjoon, who used to be much more clumsy and prone to blushing in his fluster, now seems to have come into his own and his presence commands your attention whenever he speaks or gestures, each movement sure and with confidence. While Seokjin used to be the more blatant joker between the three of you, now he seems to sit back a bit, observing conversation contentedly until he sees the perfect opportunity to chime in and elicit a few laughs. 

And then, there’s you.

Well, you suppose you haven’t changed all that much. When Ms. Cara comes around to take your order (amongst gushing about how grown up and handsome and beautiful the three of you look), you still order the same thing from the menu, go about eating it the same way (fries before burger, being sure to leave some so you can slip them under the bun), and feel the same butterflies running amok in your stomach as you did years ago. You know that you’ve changed a lot, an almost scary amount, but sitting here in this diner with the two men who used to be your best friends, you’re only realising just how much of you is the same.  

“I still don’t know how you can eat that,” Namjoon says, pausing in scarfing his own dessert down to judge you for yours. “You always used to get it— aren’t you sick of it?”

“Hey!” Seokjin intercepts, pointing his spoon at Namjoon. “The Fun Sized Sundae with the Triple Sauce Special is a respectable choice of dessert, and I won’t have you shaming it when you’re just sitting there with pudding and custard!”

You chuckle at Seokjin’s avid defence of your choice— the two of you were the only ones with a big enough sweet tooth to be able to combat the sugary monster that is your choice of dessert. He hadn’t braved it tonight, though, opting instead for apple pie.

“I actually haven’t had it since I was last here,” you say, without even thinking. Another spoonful is already on its way to your mouth as you continue, “It’s one of the things I missed most after I—”

You cut yourself off, realising your blunder too late. The looks in their eyes tell you they know what you were about to say. After I left. Ah, how could you forget? You’ve been here over an hour and this is the first time it’s crossed your mind since you entered. You left— you. Not them, but you.

Your appetite suddenly begins to fade, and you place your spoon down as gently as you can. It still tinks against the bowl, but does little to break the tension beginning to seep into the air.

You clear your throat, growing a little antsy in your seat. Even as you ask, you’re unable to meet their eyes, “Ah, what time is it? We— I got a little carried away…”

The question had mostly been to dispel some of the awkwardness, but Namjoon’s response had you shooting up ramrod straight. “It’s five-to-nine.”

“Oh, shoot,” you don’t even think about the words escaping your mouth, just that way more time had passed than you thought and if you stay any longer then you’re going to be bordering dangerously close on being late for your other very important commitment tonight. “I— I have to go. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise how late it was.”

You hurry to gather your cardigan and purse, starting to shimmy out of the booth, when Seokjin speaks up, “Is everything alright? Where are you off to in such a rush? If you need, we can walk you—”

“No!” you burst, regret swallowing you moments later when you see how taken aback the two men are at your sudden rise in tone. “No, sorry, it’s okay. I just, um… I just have to pick up something, for Lisa’s party.”

“At nine o’clock at night?” Jin verifies, brows drawing down.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, voice small as you manage to finally get out of the booth and stand somewhat sheepishly at the end. “I’m so sorry, it was so lovely meeting you two again and catching up. I’ll, um… I’ll see you, at Lisa’s party.”

You barely allow them enough time to bid their own farewells before you’re turning on your heel and hightailing it out of there before one of them comes to their senses and offers to walk you again. 

You definitely do not need one of your old best friends walking you to the entrance of a club.

A fifteen minute cab ride is what you choose instead, and it isn’t long before you’re slipping into the building from the back entrance and dashing through the halls.

“FINALLY,” Mina erupts dramatically when she catches sight of you bursting into the dressing room, brows raising so high they almost meet her bangs. “I almost thought you were going to stand us up, Miss Luna.” 

Your eyes sweep over her form, alarm filling you at the fact she’s already mostly dressed, from her netted stockings to the many fluffy and feathery layers that she’ll be discarding on the stage tonight. She’s currently sitting at the dresser, putting the final touches on her makeup with small detail brushes.

“That lip colour is too orange,” you inform her, hastily rushing over to the chest that you know contains your outfit for tonight. Mina halts in her motions, staring at herself in the mirror for a long moment before she tilts her head back and lets out a loud, torturous groan.

“I knew it! Momo, you lied to me! I asked you if this colour was too orange or warm and you said—”

You shake your head, slinging the clothes you retrieved over your arm and making your way over to the screen in the corner to get changed. You feel a little bad for the girl currently on the receiving end of Mina’s whines, but on the other hand you’re now free to rush about and catch up to the rest of your co-performers. 

Within the next ten minutes you’re dressed and ready to go, dropping into a seat next to Mina and reaching to begin powdering your face.

From the tingle of excitement beginning to thrum in the air, you can only assume it won’t be long now before the show begins.

x   x   x   x 

Burlesque. It’s something that you know from experience, something you’d sadly gained before you grew more skilled at hiding your profession from the judging eyes of others, has some quite divided views and opinions. Despite how open-minded and liberal as your parents are, you know even they would struggle to come to terms with the fact that their beloved daughter had moved away for college and somehow come to perform in burlesque theatres on the side. 

You don’t even have a clear explanation as to how or why you’d ended up down this path, just that you had. Contrary to what a majority of the population would likely hope, you aren’t ashamed, and you don’t regret it. This is something you love, and you think part of the reason you had been so drawn to it in the first place was the promise of power nestled within a certain kind of anonymity.

Your act, after all, is a masquerade performed beneath the security of an intricate lace and silk colombina disguise.

When you’d first left, you’d felt… well, there wasn’t any other way to put it but rejected, and abandoned. You might have been the one that left, and it’s something you regret now, but at the time it was Namjoon and Jin who had grown distant from both each other and you. Coupled with their increasing popularity and the way their lives seemed to be picking up speed in the direction they’d always dreamed of, it made you realise that their world was getting a little too big for you, and in the scheme of their lives you no longer held a starring role.

So you’d packed up and moved away, and in the midst of your aimless moping in another city, you’d stumbled upon this… and from the first taste of empowerment it gave you in the wake of all you had been feeling, you quickly decided you weren’t going to be letting it go anytime soon. 

And now here you are; an act with such high regard and admiration that you had been called to perform it in other cities. It was a stroke of fortune that one of the stops was your own hometown, at the same time as your sister’s engagement party no less. You had wondered at the time what the catch had to be, and now, of course, you know.

It’s that in an instance of divinely aligned misfortune, the two people you’d planned to avoid indefinitely happened to be here as well.

It’s been a few days since the night you spent catching up with them, and there is enough distance between then and now for you to have calmed significantly when thinking about it. It had been kind of weird, sneaking away from the diner to come perform that night. Even though years have passed, you’re still so used to telling them everything whenever you see them, that holding something back feels foreign, and oddly enough… you feel a little guilty. The first excuse that comes to your mind in your defence is that  ‘they wouldn’t understand anyway’. You know that is baseless, though. Both of them have become popular and risen to fame not just because of their natural musical talent, but for the topics that their music so brazenly broaches.

The truth is that you know they wouldn’t judge you for anything you do, and you’re not quite sure why you’re so resistant to them knowing. The human mind is a mystery, and yours is no exception.

A slow, smooth saxophone melody brushes your ears, a lower note capturing your attention and bringing you back to the present moment. Amongst the faint tendrils of smoke that reach you from the seating area, an itch rises at your brow and you fight to contain it, not wanting to rub off the thin arch you’d drawn on so carefully earlier. It was always like this; you always got itchy before performing, for reasons unknown to you. One of your friends had theorised that it was due to nerves, or something similar. It drove your manager mad, because you’d ripped your costume pantyhose a few times while scratching your thighs in the past.

Mina’s act precedes yours, usually, and tonight isn’t any different. She’s good, and you can’t help but marvel as you watch her. Her movements are fluid, full of a certain zest and allure that mix into a single heady cocktail that has the crowd enraptured as she allows her skirts to drop ever so slowly with each smooth swing and sashay of her hips. When the ruffled fabric hits the floor there are hoots and whistles from the crowd, and Mina’s beaming face peeks over her shoulder to deliver a wink. The room eats it up.

It’s a special performance, tonight.

Due to confidentiality, none of the performers had been told exactly who was attending tonight, just that they were Very Important People, and they were to be shown the best performance they would ever see in their lives. It was an ambitious set of instructions, but you know that both yourself and the other girls in the show are some of the best in the business, so you aren’t too worried about meeting expectations. You plan to exceed them. 

You always put effort into your appearance, but tonight you admit that you did try the tiniest bit harder than usual. Your hair is pulled back from your face, twisted and pinned into curls at the top of your head; the rest of it you simply allowed to hang to its natural length and shape, though you took care to make sure it was soft and silky enough to gleam beneath the stage lights. At Mina’s insistence, you’d allowed her to pin a few small glittery ornaments amongst the curls, and as you peek out and see just how full the room is, you find yourself thanking her mentally. It’s the little details that really pull together a performance and hammer home the effect it has on the audience, and it looks like a full house tonight that you’re going to wow. Though, none of the faces seem to jump out at you so far— you still don’t know who tonights VIPs are. 

Even though tonight is meant to be a big, important night — as it had been emphasised to you so many times — you still find your thoughts wondering back to a certain two men and the reappearance of the feelings you’d once harboured for them. You’re conflicted, as anyone might expect of someone in your situation, but you can’t say you’re very fond of the feeling. Hence, despite your best efforts, your thoughts just keep coming back to your current predicament. Lisa’s party is tomorrow, and you know from yesterday’s visit to your home that your mother had already extended an enthusiastic invitation to both families on either side of the fence. So you know that there is absolutely no way that those two aren’t going to be there, since even if they hadn’t already expressed their intention of attending, their mother’s would drag them over by the ear.

You’re not sure why you’re still worrying about this. You already met and caught up with them! And it went well… or at least it did, until the topic of your abrupt disappearance from their lives was brought up. 

Perhaps that is why you’re so conflicted still. That is an issue that has yet to be resolved.

When you tune back in to the moment and catch your manager sending you a whithering look, you shake your head and decide to try and ground yourself so that you’re not off with the fairies by the time your cue to perform rolls around. You bring your gaze back to the stage, finding that in the time you spent in your own head, Mina had managed to strip down to just her shelf brassiere and the panties and baby blue garter belt with straps that stretched over her shapely thighs and attached to the top of her stockings.

You get lost in the moment, watching as the spotlight follows her across the stage and illuminates each small gesture she makes that draws the audience further and further under her spell. Her hair is perfectly curled and with each flick of her head and bat of her lashes, the strands slide over her shoulder and bounce against her back. As she reaches for her final garment to discard, it isn’t long before the light fades in tandem with the last note of her song, and the audience gets only the barest glimpse of Mina’s almost bare form before the stage is blanketed in darkness. Cheers and applause break the beat of silence that follows, and then Mina is hurriedly rushing past you, beaming with pride and holding most of her discarded skirts bunched up to her chest. Soon, the applause fades out, the hollers nonexistent, and the stage is cleared.

Now, it’s your turn to wrap the audience around your finger. 

Taking a deep breath and revelling in the light fluttering of your stomach that never seems to fade no matter how many shows you perform, you listen for the first few strumming notes of the song that accompanies your routine. When the low, bass riff of guitar finally brushes the air, you make your way slowly onto the stage and let yourself fall into the familiarity of the show.

It’s kind of ironic, you can’t help but think to yourself. Considering the events of this week, the song you’d chosen to tailor your routine to is kind of funny. For the first few years of their careers, you’d seen Namjoon and Seokjin simply go their separate ways. You thought that would be it, that your friendship had broken up for good, but to your complete and utter surprise, at the beginning of this year there had been a new record to grace the radio and enrapture young fans across the country. An unexpected collaboration between two of the biggest figureheads of the rock and rebellion movement that had started to sweep through the youth. 

When you had first heard the song, you’d done a double-take. It wasn’t anything like the rapid, upbeat rock that came to be synonymous with Seokjin’s name, or the heavier, laidback tune that usually accompanied Namjoon’s records. The beat that lay beneath the lyrics was sultry, deep and dark and made your heart skip a beat and your stomach dip. However when the lyrics registered in your mind, you’d had to fight the urge to cry. They weren’t strictly sad, per se, but to you… they had spoken a little deeper. It felt paranoid to think it, but a part of you had to wonder at how… targeted… the song had seemed to be—

Was it made... for you?

You wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it aloud to anyone or even yourself, but you liked to think so. It helped, when you found yourself missing them and yearning for the way things had been. It soothed the traitorous aching of a heart that didn’t seem to remember that the choice to leave hadn’t been theirs, but rather yours.

In the version that accompanies your performance, there are no vocals. Even so, the beat is easily recognisable and as it begins to play, an excited murmur sweeps through the crowd. Something about it is a little odd, but currently your back is turned to the audience, so you don’t get to investigate the feeling. Instead, you let each note that enters the air and brushes against your skin to soak into your being, closing your eyes for the barest second to centre yourself before you feel the heat of the lights begin to grace your skin, and you start to slowly swing your hips.

It is only instruments that brush your ears now, but you can hear the opening lines of the song so clearly in your head you can’t help but mouth them in time.

We're part of the moonlight, Ain't a fantasy...

Can't breathe in the sunlight, Gotta hide your heart...

Following the rise and fall of the beat, you turn your head over your shoulder to deliver a sly smile and a wink, moving your hips all the while— a round of catcalls and surprised murmurs results. You are the only one of the performers to wear a mask after all, so you’re not surprised by the response. Turning back around, your ease yourself into the familiar motions of your routine and let the song and atmosphere carry you away.

At any other time, you would probably find it funny how second nature stripping yourself of your clothes has become. The silky gown that drapes over your shoulders and ends in faux fur ruffles that trail across the floor is the first to go, revealing the entirety of your stocking-clad legs through a sheer petticoat, and the corset and cushioned bandeau that hides a sheer, cheekily embroidered bralette beneath. The audience eats the reveal right up and at the enthusiastic response, your chest swells with pride. You’re smiling, but with a flick of your wrist you snap open a fan and use it to cover the bottom half of your face, leaving only your eyes to peer out at the crowd from behind the mask. You’d discovered early on that a little bit of mystery keeps them intrigued a little longer.

You don’t pay much mind to the audience as individuals; more often than not, when you perform they become a faceless blur. But as your routine goes on and your body follows each sultry move to the beat, one item of clothing discarded after the other, you find yourself paying a little more attention than you usually would. 

It’s as the top part of your corset meets the floor and your sheer bralette is exposed that your eyes sweep over a certain portion of the room, and you realise very suddenly and abruptly who the guests of honour are tonight.

And you cannot believe the atrocity of your luck.

Two familiar faces return your gaze from the centre-back portion of the room, in one of the deluxe booths. It’s a wonder you can recognise them through the haze of smoke created by cigars and cigarettes, but you think that you’d be hard-pressed not to, at this point. Seokjin and Namjoon sit back comfortably in the booth with two unfamiliar men on either side of them, their eyes lit with a certain kind of intrigue and focused solely on you. For a heartbeat, your chest feels so tight you can’t take in a breath, stomach fluttering. Just barely, you manage to maintain your face and stop yourself from stumbling in your routine. The beginning of panic begins to bubble beneath your lungs, but in a split-second it is stopped in its tracks as something seems to snap inside you and you come to a realisation.

You’re wearing a mask. They don’t know it’s you.

It strikes you again, the way they eyes are trained on your every move, and it knocks you breathless once more, though for a different reason this time. Exhilaration begins to course through you— you feel powerful. When you were with them the other day, the weight of the knowledge of your wrongs and your guilt held you on unequal ground. But now, here in the heady allure and smoky seduction in this room, you have them in the palm of your hands and the dynamic is switched, if only for a moment. 

With barely a moment having lapsed since your initial realisation, you slip right back into the next move in your dance, each shift of a limb accompanied with just that little bit more oomph than before. This is their song, the song you suspect they wrote for you, and since you don’t think you will ever be able to forget it, or them, you will make sure they won’t forget this.

One fluid movement leads to the next, the beat picking up ever so slightly as you bend, legs straight and behind pointed at the crowd, before easing your way back up and unclasping the hooks that keep your corset together. When it falls, you turn and bend once more, this time facing the audience so that they see it when you push your breasts together and wriggle your shoulders, a cheeky wink accompanying the resulting jiggle of your chest. 

More hoots and hollers, as expected of an audience that seems to completely consist of men tonight, and you’re pleased to see that the two guests of the hour aren’t completely unaffected either. Namjoon is leaning forward slightly, gaze intense, and Seokjin’s eyes have narrowed in focus as they follow you across the stage. 

Following each note in the song, you strut across the stage, and when there is a pause before it picks up once more, you drop to your knees and reach forward to the floor, arching your back with your behind to the audience again. Using the strength you’ve built in your thighs over the years, you slide one leg up and turn yourself around, using the momentum to slip into an abridged version of the splits. While in this position you bend backwards, one arm reaching back to unravel the ribbon that keeps your flimsy bralette up. When you feel it come loose, you bring your hands to each piece and make a faux-shocked expression, ever so slowly peeling the sheer fabric down and revelling in the way the room is watching with bated breath. 

Your breasts bounce as you yank the bralette all the way down, the tassels that were hidden beneath and keep the barest remainder of your dignity intact jiggling with the movement. Using the cheers that result as a distraction of sorts, you deftly remove the bralette with one hand and discard it slyly on the floor, bringing yourself out of the splits but moving to another position on your knees, sliding your legs apart. There are a few soft gasps and sharp inhales that echo from the front of the crowd, and you can tell from the way their eyes are focused on the inside of your thighs that they’ve glimpsed the pretty picture inked into your skin there. You don’t leave their gazes to wonder too long though, reaching up to pinch the dangling ornaments of your tassels and using them to lift your breasts. You ignore the low, pleasurable tingle that shoots through you at the sensation of tugging on your nipples, fighting to keep your legs open, and release the tassels from your grip. Your breasts bounce generously once more, cheers sounding across the room at the sight. You deliver a wink, before bringing yourself off of the floor in a fluid movement, hearing the final notes of the song beginning to play and a low, sexy saxophone drawl emerging to intertwine with the rest.

The end of your routine passes in a blur, your mind slipping into a haze as you simply move, barely aware of the way you dance and sashay across the stage. A feathery boa situated strategically to the side becomes incorporated in your final moves, allowing the audience peeks at what they can’t have and drawing them further and further in until the music hits a crescendo and with it, you fall into your final pose.

The last thing you see, as the lights begin to dim and the crowd erupts into applause, is the way Seokjin and Namjoon’s eyes are boring holes into you, transfixed on the place where your hip meets the inside of your thigh and the intricate depiction of a crescent moon and a rose that are inked into the skin there.

 x    x    x

 “...sweetheart? Is there a reason why you haven’t gone outside yet? Everyone is by the pool with those wonderful finger foods your Aunt brought with her!”

You startle at the sound of your mother’s voice, almost dropping the grape that had been en route to your mouth as you stared into nothing, rooted in place in the middle of the kitchen. The day of your sister’s engagement party has come, faster than you were able to prepare for, and now that you’re no longer on the stage staring down your two ex-best friends from behind a mask, you’ve lost a lot of your gall. In fact, it could even be argued that your spine had slipped right out of your body the second you stepped off the stage that night. It’s the early afternoon, and Namjoon and Seokjin have been here for about… perhaps half an hour. You don’t claim to be perfect, but the way you’ve been skulking about and hiding in the kitchen is pathetic even to you. 

It’s just… how do you face them after that? They’ve technically seen you almost completely in the nude! If your grandmother ever caught wind of the fact that a man had seen you without clothes then she’d marry you off immediately— not to mention if she ever found out Seokjin and Namjoon, of all men, had seen you like that, she would have an absolute field day!

It was bordering on disheartening, but at this point, even after all this time, you’re pretty sure most of your family loves those two more than they love you.

“I, um… just wanted some grapes?” you blink, offering a sheepish smile that you hope your mother doesn’t find suspicious. That is quickly shot down when you see her brow raise and her bright cherry lips quirk to the side, eyes flicking to the empty glass by the grapes that reeks of gin. What can you say, you thought downing a glass would help you cope, but you’d been wrong. 

“Uhuh…” Your mother says, folding her arms and leaning her hip against the bench; the fullness of her skirt swishes behind her in an echo of the movement. “Well, now that you’ve eaten half of the vine, maybe go outside? Mrs Kim has been asking where you are, I think she missed you almost as much as we did.”

Your brows furrow, “Wait, which Mrs K—”

“Off you go, sweetheart!” 

You don’t even get to finish whatever you were saying because your mother moves into the kitchen solely to chase you out of it. You drag your feet as she herds you out— or at least, you do before she reaches for the kitchen towel by the oven and starts twisting it.

“I’m going!” you promptly flee after grabbing a handful of grapes to-go, holding up a proverbial white flag. Your mother is a little too good at turning mundane household items into a weapon. Now she’s put the fear of god back in you, you find yourself thinking that it’s no wonder your father has always been so well-behaved compared to the stories some of your friends would tell you about their own parents.

It’s a beautiful day, really. It’s part of the reason you were annoyed at yourself for hiding inside, even if it was only for about half an hour. The sun is out, the sky is clear, and while the sunlight warms your skin there is a cool breeze every so often that keeps you from overheating. Some of your younger cousins are in the pool, and have probably been there since around ten minutes after they arrived an hour or so ago. You’d barely gotten a hug in greeting before they were off, the backyard pool held a little more favourably in their eyes for the moment than their own flesh and blood.

They’re cute, though, so you decide that perhaps just this once you will let them get away with it. You’re going to rain down a storm of kisses on them before they leave, though. No one ignores you for an inanimate object and gets away with it!

As you exit the house and step beneath the sun, the skin of your arms and lower legs warming instantly, you just barely manage to dodge as one of your cousins comes bolting past you, followed barely a second later by his mother, your aunt, who is hotter on his heels than you might have anticipated for a woman her age.

“Jackson! You better get back here with those patties, boy, or you’re gonna regret it!”

You know you shouldn’t laugh, because it will encourage the bad behaviour, but the sight is so funny you just can’t help the way you burst into giggles, shaking your head and turning in the direction of the large gazebo that is rooted by the pool and is currently sheltering most of the guests from the sun. A quick scan also reveals that the lady of the hour, your sister, is over there too. Your eyes narrow when they catch sight of the champagne glass in her hand; hopefully she’s forgotten any and all things you’ve told her in confidence recently, or else they’re about to become public knowledge.

“Ah, y/n, just a moment!” 

You pause in your steps, turning just in time to catch in your arms the plate of small pastries your mother shoves into your hold. 

“Wh—” you don’t get to question her, as she simply flashes you a bright grin and nods her head to the table. “Take these over there, will you? And make sure Jin and Joon get some, I made their favourite!”

And then she is off, shooting back into the house and leaving you on the grass. At the delicious smell that wafts up to your nose, you send a cursory look down at the plate and hum in recognition,ignoring the way your mouth salivates. Ah, these are their favourites. This plate probably won’t last very long when you bring it over there. 

You’re on your way once more, now with the plate of sweets in tow, and the closer to the gazebo you grow you catch the sound of the radio, on one of the channels most popular with the youth and playing one of Lisa’s favourite songs. She’s dancing, dragging her friend Rose with her, giggling like a madwoman as she does so. It brings a smile to your face without you even realising. 

“Oh, y/n! There you are! Where have you been? We thought you might have gotten lost!”

Your attention is drawn to the side of the gazebo closest to the pool, where a few people are lounging in the chairs there, beers and glasses with clear, bubbling contents that you can only assume is gin and tonic on the table and in hand. The older woman who called you over with such a teasing tone is Mrs Kim— well, one of them. Both the Kims are here, and you realise belatedly that of course, their sons are too. It was Seokjin’s mother that noticed you, and as you make your way over you see Namjoon’s mother next to her, and the two men in question in the lounging chairs opposite. They seem to light up at your arrival, and you try not to think about the way their reaction makes your stomach flutter. You aren’t here for them, you’re here for their mothers! 

“Sorry,” you apologise, leaning and placing the plate down on the small table in the middle of the seats. Straightening, you dust your hands against the patterned skirt you have buttoned over your matching swimsuit. “I did get a bit lost, there’s so many kids here right now I thought I might have turned up in the wrong house.”

Both women erupt into laughter at your words, and you take the opportunity to smile at Jin and Namjoon, offering a timid wave. They return it, before following your finger as it points to the plate and they realise you’ve brought them their favourite baked goods.

“Cinnamon scrolls!” Namjoon croons, material of his navy button-up creasing as he hastily leans forward to swipe one off the plate. “And they’re shaped like little fish, like she always used to do! I can’t believe your mother made them today.”

“Of course,” you say, snorting lightly. “She’d do anything for her two favourite sons. She made it because they’re your favourites.”

The two of them beam in pride at that, before proceeding to consume the plate of sweets.

“Ah, and she sent you too, sweet y/n! Our favourite daughter! And even more stunning than I remember, right Soo-ah?”

Seokjin’s mother, Jia, hastily reclaims the conversation and succeeds in making you flush pink at her words. Jisoo, Namjoon’s mother, instantly nods, her short curls bouncing with the action, and shoots you a devious grin. 

“It’s been so long since we saw you last, y/n. You didn’t get a husband while you were away, right? We still want you as our daughter-in-law, you know.”

This time it’s not only you that feels the embarrassment heat your cheeks— to your side, both men choke on the mouthful of scroll they’d been in the process of devouring, Seokjin’s face going bright red as he brings his fist to hit his chest and attempts to dislodge the pastry. Amongst his own struggling, Namjoon reaches to smack his friend on the back, clearing his own throat.

“Ah, no…” you say, awkward and smoothing your skirt to distract yourself; it feels like the eyes of the entire party are on you, despite the fact you know better. “I’ve just been focusing on school…”

“Oh, tell me, dear, do you still do those wonderful paintings? I still have that one you gifted me for my birthday before you left.”

Namjoon follows up on his mother’s question, shooting you a smile that somehow is a combination of both bashful and proud. It makes a dimple pop in his cheek. “She still has it displayed above the dining table, actually. She nearly killed me when I almost knocked it by accident a few days ago.”

Jisoo doesn’t even bat a lash, smiling at you brightly— though a bit drunkenly, if the almost-finished glass in her hand is anything to go by. You’re surprised— you know from all the dinner parties your three families held over the years that despite their petite stature and classy, ladylike countenance,  both Kim women can outdrink their husbands and your father. You wonder just how much they must have had already to have such silly grins on their faces.

“I do!” You answer, feeling your chest warm in affection. It was silly to have ever doubted it, but it made you feel somewhat eased to know that you haven’t lost your place in their lives despite your departure. “But, actually, while away I actually took up sculpting. I’ve been doing that a bit more…”

“Oh, are you talking about your works, sweetheart? Ah Jisoo, Jia— they’re absolutely wonderful! I have photos that she brought, here let me go get them—”

You feel heat flush to the tips of your ears, greeting the arrival of your mother with an embarrassed look. “Alright, let’s not bash ears about it—”

“Oh!” Jia and Jisoo perk up at your mother's exclamation, and you shrink into your seat as you watch her reach into one of the hidden pockets in her skirt and pull out a handful of small photos that you’d printed to show her. Your hubris seems to have come to nip you in the bottom. “I forgot I popped them in my pocket to show you earlier! Here, see— isn’t she just so talented? My baby girl must have been the absolute queen of her department.”

All three parents are oblivious to the way you’re shrinking into your seat in mortification, but Seokjin and Namjoon are anything but. They’re grinning at you, relishing in your discomfort much like they used to. 

“Hey, y/n, could you get us another drink? I’d go get it, but your mother actually told me earlier I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen until she’s finished with the pastries…”

You shoot him a grateful look, shooting to your feet and slipping out of the little seating area. “Yup, doing that! Getting drinks! Be right back, don’t wait up!”

Though you doubt any of the adults heard you, they didn’t wait anyway. In fact, in the time it took you to head into the kitchen and bring back three drinks on a tray, your mother has since downed her glass and has started on another topic of conversation. Thankfully, the victim is no longer you. 

“Oh, Namjoon, where are your peepers?!” Your mother gasps suddenly as you return, pointing at the man beside you. There’s the barest slur accenting her words, and you resign yourself here and now to a night of loose-lipped blabbering from both your sister and your mother. “I’m not goin’ crazy am I? You used to run into things all the time when you were a kid ‘cause you were blind as a bat!”

Namjoon winces, but Seokjin bursts into laughter. Glad for the conversational shift, you take one of the last remaining chairs and settle down, your own drink now in hand. Namjoon reaches for the refill you had brought him, using the opportunity to hide his face, and only when Jin has settled down does he manage to wipe his eyes and claim his own glass.

“I’m tryin’ out something new,” Namjoon answers after a hearty gulp, clearing his throat. He reaches to scratch the back of his neck bashfully. “Lenses, I think they’re called. They’re convenient, especially when I’m performing, but they’re expensive and so dang fragile I’m gonna need to take out insurance on them or somethin’.”

“Isn’t this your last set?” Seokjin queries knowingly, laughing as Namjoon grimaces. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back in the peepers you know and love by the end of the week. If he doesn’t break them, he loses them.”

You half expect Namjoon to be irked but he just sighs with a small smile, apparently having made peace by now with the clumsiness and two left feet that have haunted him since childhood.

Your mother decides to tease Namjoon a little more, before she changes the topic and starts gushing about their career, and how she can hardly go a day or two without hearing one of their songs on the radio. All three women are beaming with pride, and though slightly bashful about it you can see Namjoon and Seokjin’s chests swell slightly. 

Lisa, the star of today’s show, happens to walk by right when your mother is interrogating them about where they’ve chosen to settle down for the meantime, and eagerly joins the conversation.

“Ah, cool cats like you must be absolutely rolling in dough by now! How many mansions do you have already?” Lisa laughs, looking for a free seat and simply sitting on you when she doesn’t find one. She’s quite a bit heavier than you remember, and you feel your breath wheeze out of you at her abrupt drop onto your legs. 

“Unfortunately, none,” Namjoon laughs, gesturing to his mother, “Though, the pressure is on. I think ‘Ma wants a nice place to retire before my career is over.”

Jisoo takes a sip to hide her sheepish grin, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing her skirt afterwards. Seokjin lets out a soft chuckle before he turns to your mother and answers the question she’d asked earlier.

“We have a sweet pad back in the fat city, actually. We both were leanin’ to the same penthouse with the best view but in the end decided to compromise and split it.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” you mother exclaims, eyes alight. The last time she’d looked this excited was when you told her you were staying for the whole week. “It’s so good to hear that the two of you stuck together even though you’re such big news now!”

Guilt. You bring your glass to your mouth and take a large gulp in an effort to drown it, the tart fizz of gin and tonic barely disguising the familiar curl of guilt in your gut.  Perhaps if you ignore it, it will go away. 

“Oh, speaking of— that latest record the two of you released together, it really does razz my berries like nothin’ else!” Lisa gushes, throwing a hand out to wriggle her fingers for emphasis. “It’s real hip and different from all your other tracks. Trust you two to be settin’ trends!”

Starting to get slightly tipsy now from the generous downing of your drink, you can’t help how you chime in with little thought,  “Oh, I really do love that one. It’s perfect to dance to.”

“A dance?” Lisa queries, turning to pin you with a confused look over her shoulder. You realise your slip up in that moment, when you glance to the side and see both men looking at you with unreadable expressions.  “It’s a bit slow for a dance, I think.”

“You can dance to anything,” Namjoon swoops in and unknowingly saves you, shrugging nonchalantly. The expression that was present on his face earlier is gone now, but it takes a split second longer to fade from Seokjin’s features.

Sinking into your chair as much as you can with Lisa’s weight pinning your legs down, you bring the glass to your mouth once more. 

Slip-up aside, you can only hope it won’t be as difficult to get through this party as you thought. 

 x - x - x

The day has progressed nicely and as daylight begin to bleed into night, your father emerged to help man the barbecue and dinner was served —  it was a somewhat rowdy affair, given how much alcohol the party had consumed up until that point. After eating their fill, most of your relatives and small cousins went home — they have a strict bedtime to uphold, after all. You made good on your promise to smother the little ones in kisses as they left, and it was with pink cheeks and bright grins that they bid you farewell. 

It’s getting well into the night at this point, and only a few guests are left. Lisa is inside with a cluster of her friends and her fiance, your mother and the Kims are underneath the gazebo with their husbands— this has left you by the pool with Namjoon and Seokjin. They’d gotten a little bold earlier and when you’d teased them about something, you’d had an unceremonious reunion with the pool. It was startlingly similar to what occured right before your mother took that photo hanging in your room, and made an odd mixture of affection, nostalgia, and something a little bit bittersweet settle in your abdomen. 

Just as it had the other time you’d met with the two, any tension and awkwardness had quickly melted away as the evening progressed. A few drinks in your systems and anything and everything is now water under the bridge. All too easily the three of you had fallen back into the same comfortable, playful air that you’d always known—

That you’d missed so much.

You’re lounging now in one of the rubber duck-shaped floaties your mother bought recently (she’d made you blow it up, gushing all the while about what a bargain she’d gotten on it and the companion swan floatie). Your head is more than pleasantly fuzzy, and you decide as you finish this glass that perhaps you’re done drinking for the night. You kick your legs lazily, feeling the heavy material of your skirt swish in the water as you propel yourself around the pool. Normally, the skirt is meant to come off before you take a dip. However given the nature of your entry into the pool, you hadn’t exactly had an opportunity to discard it. 

“No, no— I remember it cleary— clearly.” Seokjin waves his hand, finger pointing at Namjoon— the man in question is cackling in the deep end, falling off the swan floatie that he was attempting to climb onto. Both men are at the point in the night where they are beginning to slur their words, and to be fair you’re not much different. You’d lost count of how many times either of them have slipped up in their words.  “It wasn’t me who fell and broke y/n’s coffee table. From what I remember, it was your buttocks that hit it.”

“But you pushed me!” Any attempts on Namjoon’s behalf to hide his grin and even pretend to be angry prove to be fruitless. He has the same dumb dimpled grin on his face that you remember from your teen years. “It was uncalled for, assault!”

“You!” Seokjin’s mouth drops open, his legs kicking in the pool in his outrage. Namjoon’s eyes almost disappear as he cackles, throwing his head back. It melds into the sounds of the festivities over by the gazebo, where the radio and Lisa’s own gleeful laughter echo into the night. “y/n can confirm, it was Joon, right?!”

You put your arms behind your head, pretending to lounge back on the floatie despite how tentative your position is on the slippery rubber. “I don’t recall, suddenly I can’t think.”

“Yah!”

Your jubilant laughter means that you don’t see it when Seokjin slips completely into the pool, diving beneath the water to where you’re lounging and coming up beneath you. A scream rips from your throat as you're flipped from the floatie, tumbling backwards and into the water with a hefty splash to boot.

When you come back up, gasping breaths above the surface turning into laughter, it takes a moment for realisation to reach you through the sluggish fog in your brain that your skirt has detached. Still laughing, you catch sight of it and reach for it where it’s floating across the pool, recognising the sound of the two males guffawing behind you. When you slip on the bottom of he pool for a moment and get water up your nose, you decide that perhaps it’s time for you to call it a night soon.

“Woah, bubs, are you okay?”

When you slip again, a strong arm catches around your waist like an iron bar, holding you to the surface. Blinking the water out of your lashes, you turn to see the owner; the breath is startled out of you as your gaze meet the dark depths of Seokjin’s own. His hair is still dripping, an inky wayward mess atop his head, and the t-shirt he’d donned as he first entered the pool so long ago is clinging to each line and plane of his body. 

For a moment, yearning and a feeling all too familiar takes up the space of your lungs, and you find that you can’t breathe. 

“I think… I think it’s time to call it a night,” you manage to say, a new kind of lightheadedness emerging to addle your thoughts. You turn, breaking the hold Seokjin’s gaze has on you to seek out the edge of the pool. You feel his eyes bore holes into you for a moment longer, before two hands come to grip your waist and he moves you through the water to the rim of the pool. 

“Probably for the best,” Seokjin says, grip tightening in a split-second of warning before he heaves you up and onto the brick that lines the poolside. Off-kilter and unexpecting of the movement as you were, you have to balance yourself with your legs, which almost end up smacking Seokjin in the side. Through your inebriation, you don’t realise the way your thighs have parted in the process, the detached skirt in your hand doing little to cover you where it is laying sopping wet on the brick.  

“You’re being almost as clumsy as—” You’re also so busy trying to quell the fluttering in your stomach and find your bearings you also don’t notice the way Seokjin’s eyes move unwittingly down your form, falling to your thigh at eye-level. “...Namjoon.”

You blink, eyes finally focusing but heartbeat still thrumming in your ears.

“I don’t know if I will ever be that clumsy,” you manage to say, as comprehensible as possible. Seokjin’s hands leave your waist as you stumble to your feet, wringing out your skirt before attempting to button the drenched garment back up above your hips. 

“Hey!”

At Namjoon’s outcry, you grin and bring your hand up in a wave. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” you drunkenly promise, completely forgetting that in a few days, you’ll be out of this town and out of their lives once more. “Goodnight, you two.”

They return the sentiment, and you grab a towel from one of the poolside chairs, wrapping it around yourself and making your way back in. You miss the way that their eyes follow you as you leave their sight and reenter the warmth and light of your home.

x - x - x - x

The night has drawn to a close, and the two men have long since climbed from the pool and dried off with the fluffy towels your mother so generously laid out for them before she got too tispy. A sharp look from their own mothers reminded them earlier that there are still plates to clear and things to tidy, so despite being guests they do their best amongst the alcohol-induced fog clouding their minds to help clean up the aftermath of Lisa’s engagement party. 

As they do so, the same thing is true for both of them: there is a lot on their minds.

Seokjin had to turn to Namjoon earlier to confirm what he’d seen, and when he saw the man in question already looking at him with wide eyes, he knew he hadn’t just drunkenly imagined it. They both saw it, the glimpse of a strikingly familiar picture peeking from the inside of your thigh. They’d seen that very same tattoo in the very same place just a few nights ago, only last time the owner had remained a masked mystery. Now, they’d glimpsed the same image on the body of their childhood friend, the girl they’d both fallen in love with and subsequently drifted apart over only years ago because they were young and jealous and stupid. But, things are different now; they’re now only two of those things, and after they made up over a year ago their friendship is stronger than ever, in… more ways than one.

But despite how much has changed over the years, there is still one thing that has remained constant; and that is their feelings for you.

Truthfully, after not seeing you for so long, they had started to think perhaps they were finally getting over you. Impossible as it had seemed, considering how smitten they were. A cold realisation washed over them the second they saw you again, though, that those feelings hadn’t disappeared like they had suspected, but simply remained dormant. Seeing you at the diner and finally getting to catch up after being apart so long, missing you so much, had pretty much cemented that. When they’d returned to their hotel room after, they didn’t need to say a word and only shared a look to know they had both come to the same conclusion.

They were both irrevocably, pathetically, undoubtedly still in love with you, even after all these years. 

Then had come the show.

It was the reason they’d returned to this town, technically. An important friend of theirs had invited them both to celebrate the success of their latest record and talk about future opportunities; the location happened to be a club currently hosting a highly regarded burlesque set. They’d felt the second the final masked performer had come on stage that there was something odd, something special about her. She had used their song, on her thigh had been a tattoo that tickled something in the back of their minds, and there was something in the way she moved that had been so jarringly familiar, but neither had been able to pin where they had seen her before.

Until tonight, that is.

It hadn’t been an intentional reveal on your part, but there on your thigh had been the exact same tattoo they’d glimpsed in the club, and they’d known the second they saw it that it wasn’t a common design. At first, on the night, Seokjin thought that it might have struck them because it was drawn similarly to how you always used to doodle moons on all of your schoolbooks, and now it all made sense. 

The only thing left to consider is, what do they do now that they know?

“Oh, my boys— my precious, helpful, lovely boys!”

The two men turn in tandem, easily catching sight of your mother as she stumbles her way over to them. They were in the process of moving some of the plates to the kitchen before they heard her drunken cooing, and Seokjin finds himself thanking the heavens they’d put them down quickly because in the next second your mother is throwing her arms around them and they’re being yanked down to her height from the sheer strength of her grip.

“I missed you two, we all missed you two,” she blubbers, hugging them close like she’s worried they might slip away into the night the second she loosens her hold. A second shy of suffocating them, she finally releases her grip, and they straighten with warm faces. Namjoon knows without even having to check that he’s got a real goofy grin on his mug right now. 

“We missed you too,” Seokjin says, and he means it. Your family and Namjoon’s family are both pretty much his own at this point, and he’d found himself missing every single member while he was away. Each time he returned home, he was sure to visit the other two houses at the end of the cul-de-sac, though the times he’d been able to actually make his way back to his home town were unfortunately few and far between. The same is the case for Namjoon, as he knows, except likely a bit worse since he knows Namjoon has always been a real Mummy’s boy.

“But I doubt it was as much as we missed you!” Your mother argues, and it makes both men smile. The next few words to escape her mouth knock the expression straight off their faces, though.  “y/n especially. Oh, I remember she was so heartbroken when you three started growing apart. I think part of the reason she left was to get away from it. The way she used to talk about you boys…” Her gaze slips to the side, eyes slightly hazy in recollection. “I thought for sure that she was going to end up marrying one of you.”

They don’t even get a good second to unpack that, before the haze leaves your mother’s eyes and she is giggling, leaning forward with a cheeky glint in her eyes that they know for sure they’ve seen in your own. She brings her hand up to shield her mouth as she whispers in a voice that is not at all as quiet as she likely thinks it is, “It’s a bit improper, but I think she used to like both of you.”

Namjoon chokes on his own spit, and Seokjin’s mouth falls slack. “What?”

Your mother merely giggles, leaning back and spinning on her heel. “Thank you so much for your help, boys, but you ought to be on your way! Your mothers are about to head home and neither of them are walking in a very straight line.”

She halts, turning over her shoulder to shoot them a wide grin. “I’m glad you two came. Thank you.”

And then she is gone, and a blanket of silence falls over the kitchen. Seokjin and Namjoon turn their heads, locking gazes. 

Well, at least now they know what to do.

x — x — x

 You swear there is something odd in the air of the club this evening. 

It’s something subtle, and none of the other girls seem to have noticed it; they continue as always, tittering away in the dressing rooms and giggling amongst themselves when one of them makes a joke that probably shouldn’t be repeated outside the room. It’s the last night you will be performing here, and also the last night you will be staying. You were planning on making a quick visit home tomorrow morning to say farewell to your parents and congratulate your sister once more, before being on your way. You hadn’t decided yet whether you were going to go out of your way to track down Seokjin and Namjoon to say goodbye to them as well, but the idea of it… well, it sets your belly alight with nerves. You have no idea what you would say, and you know — you know— in your gut that doing it would revive the elephant in the room that you’ve all been ignoring up until now. 

But if you don’t, then you’ll be doing the exact same thing you did last time, and this time around you don’t know if you’ll get their forgiveness, let alone deserve it. 

By this point in the evening, you’ve already slipped into your costume and powdered your face. Since you wear a mask while on stage, you don’t really need to apply any heavy makeup around your brows and eyes; you usually settle for accentuating them naturally. 

Mina has disappeared since you last saw her, which is odd since she usually lingers to talk your ear off about any handsome faces she might spy in the crowd as the room beyond the stage begins to fill. You’d started to look for her earlier, seeking a distraction from the depressing inner monologue you have running, but hadn’t managed to find her. This means that for the past half hour or so you’ve been left to your own devices, fiddling with different parts of your dress and costume like a child twiddling their thumbs in the principal’s office. Part of that time, you spend trying to ignore the events of last night and any feelings that may have resurfaced as a result of your return to this town. For the rest of it, you attempt to think about what you’re going to do tomorrow when the rapidly-approaching hour comes when you have to leave again. God, where on earth did Mina get off to? You’re going insane here.

Oddly enough, it’s her that finds you a few minutes before the show is set to start. By this point, it’s a wonder you haven’t torn your hair out of it’s meticulous styling.

“Where did you pop off to?” you ask her before she even has a chance to say hello. She raises her brows, laughing at your rapid questioning. 

“Big boss wanted me for something,” she supplies, cocking her hip and resting a hand there. “Actually, I was asked to pass on a message to you.”

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Mina is quick to wave her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad— though it is a bit odd. He just asked me to tell you to meet him in one of the private rooms in the VVIP section. I think it was the very last one…?”

That is odd, considering she’d apparently just come from meeting him. Private shows aren’t something you do, so you can’t think of a reason why the big boss would ask you to meet him there. 

“Huh, ok. So soon before the show…?” you ask, just to be sure. You don’t have your mask on you right now, so you need to calculate how long it’s going to take you to return and get it. Mina shrugs, nodding. 

“I suppose so. Don’t worry,” she smiles, something indecipherable yet oddly devious entering her gaze. “You won’t be there long enough to mess anything up. The show will go on, Miss Luna.”

You could almost swear there is something hidden in her words, but don’t have the time or the thought to dwell on it. Instead you return her smile and turn to be on your way; the VVIP rooms are on the other side of the establishment, and you don’t want to keep the big boss waiting. You’d only met him once, the owner of this club, and he didn’t strike you as anything in particular. The only thing you’d thought to note is that he smoked perhaps a few too many cigars, because his office was almost always filled with curling, coiling smoke that leaked into the hall  each time you moved past. But he was quite mild-mannered and polite as far as men in this business go, so you’re not particularly concerned for your wellbeing as you make your way to meet him.

It takes a little longer than anticipated, since you ran into one of your co-performers and they cornered you for help with their outfit, but finally you’re arriving in the second-floor wing that houses the VVIP rooms. Instantly, it’s evident where you are. The carpet is a little more plush, the wallpaper a little more maintained, and the hall decorated a little nicer than the rest of the place. Spotting the room on the end, you make your way down there and knock on the door thrice before grasping the handle and easing it open.

“Mr. Leigh? What did you want to t—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat before it even has a chance to reach the tip of your tongue, feet freezing mid-step as your eyes fall upon the occupants of the room. For once, you don’t have any sort of instinct that kicks in to save you; you simply stand and stare with wide eyes.

“Took you long enough, bubs.” Seokjin straightens from where he had been leaning back against the plush crimson leather of the circular lounge. “We were beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

A myriad of thoughts suddenly flood the blank space in your brain, all in contention with each other. Oh no, they’ve seen you— no, you have a mask, they don’t know who you are— no, you don’t have your mask—

Dressed in your performing attire and standing before Seokjin and Namjoon, in one of the VVIP rooms in the club where they attended your show, you aren’t a faceless dancer. You’re y/n, and it feels like they can see every single bit of you there is to see.

You don’t even know where to begin.

“I…” You attempt to say something, anything, but your tongue has suddenly turned to lead in a pact with your stomach, sinking down and refusing to dance for your words.

It takes you a moment to realise as you watch them straighten, but neither of them look surprised. It leads you to believe that somehow they figured it out on their own, though you have no idea how. You don’t really have the presence of mind to ask them right now, either. In fact, it could even be argued that you’re almost panicking.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Namjoon speaks up, offering you a smile that holds neither judgement nor disdain. “We wanted to catch you before you inevitably skipped town without saying goodbye.”

That stung, just as much as the guilt that struck you for the truth of his words. You’d been contemplating it, leaning towards it even, but suddenly you feel you have to defend yourself. 

“I hadn’t decided that yet,” you say quietly. You let the door fall shut behind you, silently acquiescing to the unspoken demand weighing heavy in the air.

“Don’t lie.”

Your eyes shoot even wider, if possible, at the sound of Seokjin of all people snapping at you. His tone was sharp, and you half expect him to look furious, but when your eyes flick to his face it gives nothing away. When he continues in the next second, though, you see it in the depths of his eyes. Hurt.

“We used to tell each other everything, back then.” It could have been a trick of your mind, but you swear you heard his voice break slightly. “I don’t want that to change. So no lies tonight, y/n. We’re going to talk as adults, openly and honestly.”

For reasons beyond you, something about the promise woven through his tone makes you nervous. A tremor fights to shudder its way down your spine; for a moment, you feel akin to a small, cornered forest animal, even though they are the ones sitting against a wall and you are in the open. You don’t know what to say. 

Namjoon steps in, saving you from fumbling for a response as he always seems to do. “You don’t have to stand there, ready to bolt, you know. You can come sit down.”

You shake your head, suddenly recalling your commitments outside this room and feeling relief flood you at the realisation that you have an excuse to remove yourself from this situation you’d tried so hard to avoid. “I can’t. I have to go p—”

“We already talked it over with your boss, he was happy to take you out of the performance tonight. It’s okay, the others know too.”

You deflate, looking at Namjoon with a sinking feeling in your stomach. He doesn’t hold your attention all that long, though, before the sound of Seokjin’s voice brings your gaze to him once more.

“Why did you leave? Without even saying goodbye, or telling us where you went?” You feel rooted to the spot, pinned first by the weight of Seokjin’s gaze and then his words as they slam into you, unfiltered. 

“Hyung.” You think you hear Namjoon murmur softly, giving the man next to him a pointed look. Seokjin is unphased, looking at you expectantly, “Be honest.”

It’s just as panic begins to seep into the bottom of your lungs that anger sparks and sets it alight, transmuting it to something red and hot in your chest. 

“You want me to be honest?” you ask, heat beginning to colour your voice and sharpen the tip of your tongue. “I left because of you— both of you. I don’t know if something happened between you or if I just wasn’t enough, or you felt I was holding you back, but you drew away and you left me. You both left me before I ever left you.”

You see it the second your words enter the air like a whip, the hurt and guilt slipping across their features. Anger bubbles in your throat, stings your eyes, and urges you to let loose everything else rising to the tip of your tongue, “I left because I couldn’t handle the pain of my two best friends slowly easing themselves from my life, like— like I was old news. Like I no longer had a place in that shiny, brand new world they’d stepped into.”

More rushes to escape, feelings kept bottled up tight for three years suddenly flooding forth with the force of a tidal wave, but you bite it down, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath that rattles through your chest. When you’re sure you have a firmer grasp on your emotions, you allow yourself to speak once more. “If an apology is what you want, then I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I’m sorry for my part in hurting you. But you… the two of you hurt me, too. You meant the world to me and when you pulled away you made me feel like nothing.”

Your eyes remain closed, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you will yourself not to cry; silence sinks over the room, only broken as your ears adjust to the thin buzz of electricity thrumming through the walls. One moment, another-- you try and focus on breathing in, and breathing out.

“Something did happen between us, you know. We fought over you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto Namjoon. He stands, dusting his legs as he straightens and adjusts his jacket. Slowly, like he’s worried he will spook you, he begins to step closer. “I’m sorry, y/n. We never meant to hurt you, and didn’t realise the way our immaturity was hurting you, too. You took up such a big part of our lives, and after you left it was painfully empty… when we saw you again this week, it was the first time we’d felt whole in years.”

Stunned, you’re rooted to the spot and can only watch as he comes close enough to touch, hands reaching for your own; faintly, you register the sound of Seokjin getting up from the couch as well. When he reaches your side, you risk a glance to his face and are surprised by the soft, remorseful expression resting upon his handsome features. 

“I’m sorry, bubs, for hurting you.” He lifts a hand, the warmth of his palm cupping your cheek. “You are irreplaceable to us, and we will always want you as a part of our lives. No one meant as much to us as you did then, and no one means as much to us as you do now. The two of you are my world, and I know the same goes for Joon.”

There’s something different hiding in the depths of his tone that makes your heart patter faster against the confines of your chest, something in the way they share a look so full of something warm that your own cheeks heat in response. Both of them… with each other, too? 

 “Why are you saying this?” Now, you meant to tack on. Why is he saying this now?

Namjoon’s eyes are warm as they meet your own. “Because we should have said it three years ago. Plus… we got a tip from an anonymous source that our feelings aren’t as unrequited as we once thought.” 

You don’t even need to wonder who it was that could have exposed such a thing; your mother had been mysteriously avoidant of your gaze this morning, almost knocking a few things off the bench in the extent of her effort to evade meeting your eyes.

“If nothing else, please just tell us before you go,” Seokjin implores, voice a low murmur. “Whether it was true then, or....”

You have a feeling you know what he was going to say: or even now. You’d known it the second you glimpsed them back in this town that those feelings you’d harboured for years and years weren’t ever going away. Even seeing them a handful of times has made your heart ache with the revival of your love and the magnitude at which it had bloomed once more in the tender soil of your being. The words rush to the tip of your tongue, but even now when the two objects of your affection have all but confessed to you, fear barrs them from leaving your mouth. Because it’s not appropriate, a voice murmurs it’s familiar tune, It’s so unlikely— what if you are just reading too much into it and are mistaken?

Honesty, Seokjin had requested. You take a deep breath before admitting the words that will seal your fate, for better or for worse.

“I did love you, then,” you say, catching it as they both seem to tense. “I should have known better than to think those feelings would just go away.”

It takes a moment, but soon both men are erupting into bright grins. In his glee, Namjoon folds you into his arms, smacking a soft kiss to your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips— the suddenness of the action brings a gasp to your lips, but you’re definitely not going to complain. Especially not when the way his mouth moves against yours lights something bright deep within you. 

You don’t get to enjoy the sensations for longer than a moment before Seokjin’s voice is parting the air, a completely different tone underlying his words than what you expect from seeing his stupid grin earlier.

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t think you’re off the hook just yet, little miss. “ You meet his gaze over Namjoon’s shoulder and a shudder shoots down your spine at the look in his eyes. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for, wouldn’t you say?” 

x - x 

Barely ten minutes and a private car ride filled with scandalous touches and even more scandalous noises later, you’re being pressed against the wall in the bedroom of the penthouse suite in the most expensive hotel your town has to offer. Namjoon’s mouth is on yours with a kiss so impassioned that it pulls the air from your lungs and the strength from your knees; you don’t even realise that the lights hadn’t already been on when you entered and it was Jin responsible for illuminating your path into the suite.

A part of you expects some internal resistance — it had been three years since you’d last seen them, before this week — but instead you’re simply overwhelmed with how right it feels. Soft, fluttery warmth like sun rays on a winter’s morning fills you up to the brim, the feeling so foreign you’re worried your heart might actually burst. 

Namjoon’s hands come to your hips, pressing them to the wall before sliding up to the dip of your waist. He isn’t overly bold in the way he moves his mouth against yours, but it makes a whine build in your chest nonetheless. A part of you disagrees with it, and when you recall that you’re still here dressed in the costume that usually gives you the power over men, you push back and turn the two of you around. 

When his own back meets the wall, the softest gasp escapes Namjoon’s mouth and you swallow it down, your hands coming to cup his jaw. You take the lead in the kiss and he doesn’t put up a fight, grip tightening on your sides as he holds you closer. 

“Ah-ah, bubs.”

An unwitting squeak escapes you as two large hands find purchase on your waist and you’re pulled apart from the man panting against the wall. You blink and before you know it Seokjin has you falling onto something so plush and soft you know immediately it’s a bed. Your eyes are quick to find Seokjin’s, and the raven-haired male shoots you a stern look that is only contradicted by the heady mixture of affection and lust in his gaze.

“You don’t get to call the shots tonight,” he informs you simply, striding closer to where you’re laying on the bed and tugging on the string that holds your silken gown together. It’s designed to come undone, and so it’s no surprise that at the lightest pull the silk is sliding off your body, revealing the outfit you’d paraded on the stage before them barely a few nights ago. Faintly, you register the bed dipping behind you, but your attention is otherwise occupied when Seokjin reaches for the bedside table and retrieves something long and black. 

“Her wrists?” Namjoon asks, unknowingly answering the question you had forming in your head. Seokjin nods, tossing the tie  to him. Your gown is slipped from your shoulders completely, sheer petticoat ruffling as you’re scooted backwards until you feel the firmness of Namjoon’s chest against your back and Seokjin is sliding between your legs, in the midst of unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Do you know what you did to us when we saw you that night?” Seokjin asks, voice smooth as honey. It’s a struggle to remain focused on his words when Namjoon brings your hands together in front of you where you’re propped against him, beginning to bind them a little too expertly with the tie Seokjin had passed him. Your heart beats a little faster, thighs trembling as heady anticipation whirls within you. “What you do to us?”

“Just seeing you was already dangerous enough,” Namjoon murmurs, husky tone brushing the shell of your ear. “But you danced to our song, the song we wrote for you. It’s like you knew what it would do to us…”

It makes something swell in your chest, the confirmation that they had written that song for you. You catch something fond flick through Seokjin’s gaze before he tuts, shaking his head. He pushes your now-tied hands up and over your head, back until you feel the side of your thumbs grazing the back of Namjoon’s neck. Lips brush your neck, eliciting a shiver that Seokjin eagerly drinks in. Long, deft fingers work to undo the top part of your corset, the cushioned bandeau, and slip it from your form. You can visibly see it as his eyes darken, drinking in the sheer bralette barely supporting your breasts. You also know the second he glimpses the tassels pressed beneath, because his teeth sink into his lip and he takes in a sharp breath. 

Namjoon’s wandering hands come to trace the underside of your chest, breath catching in your throat when he takes their weight into his hold and kneads. Warmth shoots to your core, the hints of pleasure curling your toes. You feel breathless as they work in easy tandem, Seokjin slipping your petticoat over your legs and Namjoon removing your bralette. You shiver once your chest is bare, not from the cold but from the intensity and the weight of their gazes as you feel them fall upon you. 

“Leave her corset,” Seokjin instructs, flicking one of your tassels and eliciting a yelp. He settles back further between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs; his gazes falls upon the tattoo on the inside of your leg and the corner of his lips curls up. 

The plush of his lips presses against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the sensation tingling along your nerves. He doesn’t comment on the picture, but when his mouth touches where it is inked into your skin you feel your heart skip a beat nonetheless. 

Your mind is pulled from the sensation of fingers slipping beneath the edge of your panties when Namjoon’s fingers play with the tassels attached to your nipples, tugging and pulling and eliciting all sorts of heady sensations that make your thighs shake. “Joon,” you breathe, something else resting on the tip of your tongue only to be replaced with a whine when Namjoon pulls a little harder, soft open-mouthed kisses pressed to the sensitive column of your neck.

It’s like all of your nerves are alight at once, each touch and brush of their skin against yours heightened and making your heart race and your breath come a little quicker. Seokijn quickly slips your panties off, but leaves the pantyhose and garter belt. His eyes drag a trail of heat up your body, halting where Namjoon has begun to suck marks onto your neck like an artist decorating a canvas. For a moment he is mesmerised, and you can’t help the words that slip from your lips.

“You like what you see?” You ask, curving your back ever so slightly to emphasise your position. Seokjin pins you with an unreadable look, jaw ticking for a moment. 

“Very much so,” he answers, pulling away from you for a moment. He reaches behind him, retrieving something you hadn’t even noticed before now, and when you realise what it is he has in his hand you feel your stomach simultaneously drop and flip in excitement. His eyes meet yours for a moment, an unspoken question whether what he is about to do is okay, and had it been anyone else you know you would have refused, but you trust him. You trust them. You offer him a small nod and you receive the smallest smile in return before he is bringing the camera up to his eye and lining up his shot. 

Flash. Click. The camera isn’t as bulky as you’re used to, and you figure it must be one of the newer models you are far too poor to afford. One picture seems to be enough for him for now, but you know as he places it well to the side that it won’t be the only appearance it makes tonight. 

“Just in case you decide to fly the coop on us again,” he says, a sly look on his face. You scoff, knowing that he’s joking, and hold up your hands, still bound. 

“Like this? Not likely.”

He chuckles, and you feel Namjoon’s chest rumble with a soft laugh against your back as well. The lighthearted moment is over as quick as it arrives as Seokjin settles back between your legs and hardly waits for you to orient yourself before dipping his head down and delivering a broad swipe of his tongue up your slit.

“F— Jin!” you yelp at the sudden shock of pleasure, wriggling in Namjoon’s arms slightly; he nips at your skin in light reprimand, and Seokjin lifts his head only for a moment to scold you with a cheeky gleam in his eyes.

“Careful now, bubs,” he cautions, delivering a small kitten lick to your clit between utterances. “We might have the penthouse but there are still people below us.”

Surprisingly— or perhaps unsurprisingly, when taking the rest of your life and profession into account — the idea of being heard has the opposite effect on you than one might expect. You bite your lip, tipping your head back as Namjoon’s fingers begin to play with you once more and Seokjin begins to bury his face between your legs in earnest. 

It gives you a bit of whiplash, when you think about it; you don’t think you ever would have expected to end up here, in this situation. Crushes or no crushes, you hadn’t even expected to see them again let alone become the meat in a famous musician sandwich. 

It’s almost shameful how quickly the heat and pressure builds within you, Namjoon managing to tug the tassels off completely to roll your flushed buds between his fingers. The noises that sound from Seokjin’s ministrations between your legs are so downright lewd you can feel your face flush with heat, your thighs trembling either side of his head. You attempt to keep your own moans and whines in until Seokjin delivers a smack to your thigh and sends you a warning look. 

Just when you think you might be about to reach your peak, Seokjin stops, pulling back and licking your cream from his lips. The look you send him must be devastated, because he looks absolutely smug. 

“Now, this isn’t just about you,” Seokjin says, carding a hand through his hair before he finishes undoing his shirt and slips it from his form. Your breath catches at the sight of his sculpted torso, and the ink that decorates it in pretty splotches of imagery. You feel so ridiculously naughty, finding the tattoos on him as attractive as you do, and you’re aware of the irony but you just can’t help it. Seokjin could manage to make a potato sack look good. “Hasn’t Joonie been good? Been making you feel so good, with nothing in return? I think we should pay him back.”

It’s all the warning you get before you’re flipped over, braced on your elbows and knees. There is rustling before something plush is slipped beneath you, and Seokjin lowers you down between Namjoon’s legs with the pillow propping your hips up for him to continue where he left off.

Dazed from the sudden shift and beginning to lose yourself to the feeling as Seokjin returns his mouth to your soaked centre, you tilt to meet Namjoon’s dark gaze and offer him a brief smile. You can’t deny, the angle you’re viewing him from is nice, especially as he wrangles his shirt off and you catch glimpses of firm abs and chest. Namjoon, too, has decorated his skin, and it’s somewhat ridiculous how viscerally you’re reacting to it but you really think you might be about to drool. 

The pleasure quickly beginning to build in you once more from Seokjin’s plush lips and agile tongue leaves you no room for pleasantries, “Can I suck you off, Joonie?”

You hear his breath catch before he tips his head back and lets out a soft groan. “Do you even have to ask?”

His response only fuels your eagerness, mouth beginning to feel empty when your face is so close to his crotch you can feel the heat of his body. Considering the state of your hands, Namjoon makes quick work of his belt and slacks for you, shimmying them down with his briefs just enough to let his member spring free, almost completely hard at this point. 

“Holy shoot, Joon,” you curse, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and lust. God, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone as much as you want these two men.  Namjoon shoots you a cheeky, if somewhat dazed, smile that makes his dimples pop out.

“It’s not just me you have to worry about.”

Well that’s a condemning statement if you ever did hear one, considering how you’re hoping this night will go. One of the more open and liberal girls that worked the show with you had once said “god gave me two holes for a reason, girls!” and right now you find you couldn’t agree more. 

You’re sick of your mouth being empty, you decide, and so you forego further foreplay and simply reach for his cock, taking the length into your hands and promptly enveloping his tip in the heat of your mouth.

“Fuck!” Namjoon swears loudly, thighs tensing against your shoulders. The yelp that escapes you as Seokjin smacks your ass melts into a moan that elicits a throaty noise from Namjoon, as well. 

You press and drag your tongue along the underside of his length, gradually working your mouth lower and lower until your nose is brushing the dark patch of curls across his pubic bone, a surprisingly pleasant mixture of musk melding with his cologne and brushing your senses . Even without the pleasure flooding your nerves from Seokjin’s tongue and the way he latches his lips around your clit, the deep, throaty noises tumbling from Namjoon’s mouth are reward enough. Since your hands are bound, your mouth has to do most of the work; when you sink down enough that his tip bumps the back of your throat, you do your best to fight your gag reflex from kicking in fully. 

Namjoon swears once more, just barely stopping himself before it gets too reminiscent of a sailor’s vocabulary. The sensation of your throat constricting around the head of his member makes his hips twitch and buck up ever so slightly, his hands winding into the hair at the nape of your neck. Struggling to keep on task through the haze in your mind, you do your best to build up a rhythm that has Namjoon’s abdomen trembling from the effort of keeping his hips still.

In tandem, the two of you seem to be rapidly approaching your highs— unfortunately for you, that same attention to detail that makes Jin’s ministrations so mind-numbingly good is what alerts him to that fact. Right when you feel yourself tense up in the prelude to your orgasm, Seokjin rips his mouth away, the bed shifting behind you. “Not yet, bubs.”

You can’t help the whine that sounds from your throat, the vibrations making Namjoon jerk.

“Fuck, I’m—”

Flash. Click. 

Another whine, different in tone this time, escapes you at the knowledge that Seokjin has added another filthy memory to his collection. 

“Joonie, you better not cum until I say so. y/n, off.”

Namjoons nails scratch lightly against your scalp, almost making your eyes roll back as he whines lowly in protest. You know you should listen and do as Seokjin says, but you can’t help but push a little, taking your sweet time as you pull your mouth slowly from Namjoon’s length, sucking all the while. The noises that tumble from Namjoon’s mouth as a result are incriminating enough, and even though you knew Seokjin wasn’t going to let it slide it still comes as a surprise when there is a sharp, painful smack against the globe of your ass. It’s hard enough and loud enough that your back arches slightly, mouth leaving Namjoon with a pop so you’re free to cry out. 

“Jin!”

Seokjin’s hand is cool against the smarting flesh of your behind as he rubs soothingly over it, raising an eyebrow as you meet his gaze over your shoulder. “I told you off, bubs. Let’s not make me repeat myself.”

Somewhat petulant despite the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach, you allow him to grab you by the hips and yank you back with a pout, breathless with anticipation when you feel his fingers drag over the dips and curves of your body as though mapping them out. He makes you sit up, your back against his chest as he explores your front, drinking in each gasp and whine as he pinches and tugs your nipples and rolls them between the pads of his fingers. Down, down, down he goes— when his finger drags along your slit and slips over your swollen clit you cry out, unable to help the unwitting buck of your hips. 

“After all the effort I went to to clean you up, you’ve gone and made a mess again,” Seokjin murmurs, pillowy lips brushing the edge of your ear. You quiver in his hold as he rolls a lazy circle around your bud, thighs threatening to close around his hand. You’re suddenly aware of how empty you feel, surprised that you’ve almost orgasmed twice without even being penetrated. 

You try and cant your hips up, not above whining and begging at this point— if he denies you your high one more time you just might go insane. “Please, Jin, please—”

Namjoon, who had taken a moment to recover after almost blowing his load earlier, shifts forward on the bed to join the two of you. His lips find your neck, your jaw, until they finally meet your lips once more and he swallows your sinful noises down. 

“What, you want more? You want my fingers? Look at you. You want to be filled so badly you’re willing to rock against anything with a pulse...”

Heat flushes up your neck to your cheeks, Namjoon’s kiss muffling your whine; you hadn’t thought you would be one to fancy this sort of thing, but if the wetness gushing forth at his words is anything to go by then apparently you do. 

Namjoon parts from your lips, waiting until your eyes focus on him so that he can hold your gaze. “Baby girl,” he murmurs, voice rough. His hand slips down to join Seokjin’s, finger dipping ever so slightly into your slit. The true meaning of his question isn’t lost on you.  “Who do you want?”

You feel almost unhinged with how much raw, restless desire is coursing through you right now— you couldn’t have stopped your answer even if you’d wanted to. “Both… both of you…”

There is a moment of silence following your response, but you don’t have time to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. In the next second Seokjin is swearing lowly under his breath, pressing his lips to your throat to hide his groan.

“Joonie, bedside table. You’ll have to prepare her.”

You’ve never seen Namjoon move as fast as he did the second Seokjin spoke, flying from the bed; he’s back within seconds after retrieving something from the drawers to the side, placing them on the covers. A small rectangular tin and a slim bottle. 

When he sits, waiting eagerly with his cock still flushed and hard and bobbing from the movement, Seokjin turns you around in an abridged version of the way you were before. Taking note of the uncomfortable angle of your arms, he undoes the tie, but doesn’t discard it after slipping it from the reddened skin of your wrists.

With your ass now pointed in Namjoon’s direction, it isn’t long before his hands find purchase and your most intimate area is revealed to him.

“Fuck,” he swears, “You’re so wet, baby. We might not even need the extra help, hyung.”

“Use it just in case,” Seokjin instructs, before turning his attention to you. “Now, if you want to cum later I think you should earn it now, hm?”

Your hands were already moving towards his belt and fly before he’d started talking, but his words renew your vigour. When you free Seokjin’s crotch from the confines of his slacks and briefs, you quickly understand just what Namjoon meant earlier. Namjoon has length, but Seokjin is thick. You wrap your hands around him and can’t help but marvel at his size— you’re a little ashamed of how excited it makes you.

“Ah!” Your plans to engulf Seokjin’s cock in the heat of your mouth are interrupted by a sensation at your rear. You wiggle slightly, unable to help it. “That’s cold!”

Namjoon places a featherlight kiss to your cheek, thick, slippery finger beginning to ease into your hole now that it is sufficiently lubricated. Suddenly aware that your attention is in the wrong place, you do your best to hurry back to what you were doing before you earn yourself another smack. 

“Perfect, bubs.” The groan that rumbles from Seokjin’s throat in praise is so raspy and low that it makes a shiver roll down your spine. As teasingly as you dare, you’re suckling around the flushed head of his cock, feeling it twitch and throb in your hands in response. It’s already a tight fit in your mouth, you can feel your thighs quaking in anticipation as you imagine what it would feel like filling you up. The thought takes you by surprise.

Since when did you start thinking like such a wanton whore?!

Well, you suppose, there is no time like the present. 

Seokjin’s hand threads through your hair, his hips rocking ever so slightly; you watch the way the muscles in his abdomen undulate at the movement and fight to keep your saliva in your mouth as you begin to bob your head down his length. Considering his girth, it’s hard to keep your teeth tucked behind your lips, but you somehow manage; when the time comes that he reaches your throat you’re in a better condition than you were earlier for it, but it’s still a bit of a shock to the system.

“Oh my god,” Seokjin’s thighs quake for the slightest second against you. “Fuck. No wonder Joonie almost blew his load. Look at you. You do this often, huh? Look how well you swallow my cock…”

You moan around him, his words and the oddly pleasant sensation of Namjoon working his fingers in and out of your asshole melding into a pool of heat in your abdomen.  Your eyes flutter closed as you try to focus on making Seokjin feel good, and you’re only distracted by a muted flash behind your eyelids.

Click.

Another shot saved. You take Seokjin further into your mouth, trying to go as far back as you can without gagging. He doesn’t seem to mind the way your throat constricts around his length though, if the noises escaping his plush lips where they part are anything to go by. Namjoon gradually adds one finger after another, making sure you’re accustomed to the stretch at least a little before the next joins. By the time he has squeezed in three fingers and scissored them a few times, you find yourself shaking a bit from the sensations. It’s odd, different to what you’re used to, but oh even with the light burn that accompanies each finger it still feels so good. 

You’re so focused on the sensations that you don’t even realise the attention you’ve been giving Seokjin has strayed, lips sucking a little harder and your hand stroking a little tighter. The salty taste of precum coats your tongue and you have half a mind to be ashamed of the way it makes you long for more. It proves to be a little too much for Seokjin at once, though. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you gently off of him as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Not yet, bubs,” he says, voice rough. His eyes are like magnetic pools as they draw you into their depths, their hold only broken when Namjoon slips a final finger in and you shut your eyes on instinct, mouth dropping open at the sensation. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

Namjoon’s voice makes your stomach flip, his free hand smoothing over the curve of your ass. You find yourself nodding before you even have the thought to do so, and with that Namjoon shifts on the bed behind you. Seokjin helps you move backwards, your eyes trained on his length somewhat longingly. There is the sound of something tearing softly behind you and you find yourself thankful that they took the initiative and you don’t have to ask them about protection.

You’re moved so that you’re straddling Namjoon’s hips with your back to him, still facing Seokjin. The two of them have since discarded their slacks and briefs  and are now presenting themselves in all their naked glory. Namjoon mutters a tender warning, informing you it might burn a bit, and you’ve heard of that but aren’t about to turn tail when you also know it’s going to feel so good after. You feel his tip press against your ass, alarmingly bigger than his fingers, and Seokjin helps ease you down slowly, inch by inch, with a firm grasp on your hips. 

True to the warning you’d received, it does burn; Namjoon had made sure there was more than enough lubrication for an easy glide, though, and by the time he has seated himself fully in you, you’re making noises you don’t think you ever have before. The line between heady pleasure and light pain is so blurred that you’re worried you might have fried your nerves at some point tonight. 

“Oh—” you take in a shuddering breath, shifting your hips ever so slightly and moaning in tandem with the man beneath you. “Joon…”

“Ride him,” Seokjin instructs, hands leaving your hips to reach for his camera once more. “Let’s make him feel good, hm?”

Who are you to say no? 

You pride yourself on having a lot of strength in your limbs, thighs especially, but still they tremble as you roll your hips up until just the tip of Namjoon’s cock remains in you, and then ease back onto him again. It takes a second before you realise the low moan you hear is coming from you, mind so addled with pleasure at this point you almost feel like you’re floating. Bracing yourself on your thighs, you do your best to set a rhythm and maintain it, ignoring the fatigue of your muscles and focusing on how good it feels and the noises tumbling from the man beneath you. 

When there is a sly touch against your swollen clit, you cry out loudly— Namjoon almost shouts at the way you clench around him, his hands flying to your hips to hold you in place for a moment. You look to Seokjin with wide eyes, panting slightly.

“Didn’t you wanna cum so badly, earlier?” he queries, fingers slipping down to slide through the slick mess around your entrance. You moan as he easily sinks two fingers in, pumping lightly. “Don’t stop, fuck yourself on my fingers, bubs.”

It feels so good you think you might tear up; obediently, you resume the pace you set earlier, now riding both Namjoon’s length and Seokjin’s digits. Each time you sink down he curls them, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep this out before your legs become too akin to  jelly to support you.

The answer is: not much longer. Seokjin quickly grows tired of it when your movements slow, thighs trembling from the effort. With a hand to your stomach he pushes you back, shifting your legs so they’re folded with your feet flat against the covers. You scramble for purchase, Namjoon quickly supporting you from behind. 

Seokjin tuts, muttering playfully about having to do everything himself, and it’s all the warning you get before he adds another digit and begins to finger your sopping entrance so hard and good that for a moment your vision goes white.

“S-Seokjin!” you drop your head back, nails sinking into the bedding as he begins to curl his fingers into that delicious spot inside of you with each pump. You had been slowly but steadily climbing back up to the precipice of your orgasm earlier, but now you’re heading there at breakneck speed. Before you know it the coil of pressure is snapping inside you and you’re shaking, pleasure numbing your limbs and making you whine.

By the time your high fades and you tune back in to the moment, you quickly become aware of two things— one, that you’ve somehow managed to coat Seokjin’s whole arm in your fluids, and two, that Namjoon has gone so tense and still beneath you that you think you might have almost killed him.

“Good girl,” Seokjin praises, sucking your cream off the tip of his fingers before wiping the remaining excess on your thigh so he can reach for his own rubber. “Do you need me to wait another moment?”

Assessing your current state, you find yourself shaking your head. You might have thought you would be too sensitive to continue, but Namjoon is still fully seated in your ass and now your pussy feels too empty for you to bear. Seokjin is only too happy to fill that void. 

Nestled between your legs, when he lines his cock up at your entrance and begins to slide in, you all but lose the ability to think. You clench unintentionally from the sensation of being filled so completely, making both men groan and Seokjin halt in his movements. He waits until you relax again before continuing his motion. 

When both men are fully sheathed inside you, you think this really might be what bliss is. Soft, panting whines and moans tumble freely from your throat as Seokjin pushes your thighs to your chest and begins to set a mind-numbing pace. It’s borderline brutal, the way he slams into you and splits you open so hard and good; each time his hips hit home you feel your whole body jostle.

“You can move, Joonie,” Seokjin somehow manages to articulate, sweat beginning to bead across his forehead and dampen the strands falling over it. You don’t know how he can talk, because you know if you tried at this moment you’d likely end up biting off your tongue. 

You feel Namjoon shake his head, hair brushing the space between your shoulder blades. “‘m close,” he mumbles in explanation, a short moan following his words. “Wanna cum together.”

It’s such a sweet desire in the midst of such a lewd situation that you almost get whiplash between the swelling of your heart and the pleasurable ache filling your insides. You feel that he will get his wish soon, because despite your recent high you’re already well on your way to reaching it again— Seokjin’s hips have begun to stutter, too, and you know he isn’t far behind. 

It all reaches its peak when Seokjin slips his hand down, following the angle of your hip bone to your core and rolling your bud with his thumb. It proves to be too much for you, because in the next moment you’re letting out a loud train of expletives and clenching tightly around them as pleasure floods your system once more, mind absolutely blank. The tightness of your heat around them is their undoing and barely a moment after you reach your high they follow suit, the sounds tumbling from them borderline sinful against your ears. 

It takes a bit longer for you to come back to earth, this time. By the time you do, Namjoon is winding his arms around your waist and rolling to the side, taking you and Seokjin with him. You let out a noise of surprise that curls into a laugh, hands gripping his arms as you hit the bed; both men are still inside you, and while you secretly wish it could stay that way for a bit longer, you know you should probably clean up. 

“No,” Namjoon says before you even go to move, a pout in his tone as he buries his face in the back of your neck. Seokjin nestles closer, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. “Stay, just a bit longer.”

That’s a dangerous request, especially considering the way your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy after the events of the night. For them, too, you can hear the way their breathing has already begun to even out. You couldn’t be mad if you tried, though, because just being here in their arms feels so right that you don’t ever want to feel anything else. 

“I guess we can nap…” you say, sounding tired enough that it elicits a chuckle from Seokjin. You let your eyes close, nestling your cheek against the top of Seokjin’s head and enjoying the light scent of his shampoo and cologne. You let out one last warning before you let yourself fall into the abyss, though. Just so they know who’s boss.

“If I see those photos anywhere near my house, Seokjin, it won’t just be me getting disowned.”

The laughter that tumbles forth in response just adds to the warmth flooding your being, and you let yourself relax, contented and truly happy for the first time in three years. 

[rocorambles]

Beauty and the Beast

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Life isn’t a fairytale and Iwaizumi is perfectly fine with that. 

Author’s Note: Gifting this to @aonesteddybear as part of the SFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event. Hope you enjoy~

Oikawa had always used to joke that whenever Iwaizumi got a girlfriend, it would be like the live reenactment of Beauty and the Beast (which always earned him a well-aimed volleyball to the head). But the ex-ace secretly wonders if the brunette is right. 

High school had been full of shy giggling girls who had nervously confessed to him or asked him out, entranced by the idea of dating the ace and vice-captain of Aoba Johsai’s renowned volleyball team, the best friend of Oikawa Tooru himself, the boy the entire Seijoh team and the rest of his peers highly respected and spoke well of. Even second-year Kyoutani Kentarou seemed to be on his best behavior whenever the spiky haired third-year was around and that was saying something. 

Encouraged and urged on by Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki to test out the waters, Iwaizumi had gone on a few dates. But he always felt like a bumbling inarticulate caveman no matter how sweet, how kind, how accommodating the girls were. 

He cringes when he remembers how accidentally callous he had been with his words, making girls cry and left when he lectured them about eating less sweets and exercising more when they insisted on going to desert shops, things he would tell his own teammates out of a responsibility to keep them healthy, not because he cared about what they looked like. And he groans when he remembers the countless times his highschool dates had screamed in his face when he just shrugged his shoulders and said they looked fine, the same as usual, when they showed off a new outfit, new haircut, new makeup look. 

Boys still flocked to him, younger students looking up to him as a role model, his male classmates fist bumping and slapping a hand on his back in friendly greeting. But gossip travels fast among highschool girls and as oblivious as Iwaizumi usually is to the rumors circulating around, even he notices the wary looks and whispers every time he walks past a group of girls. 

"Iwaizumi is polite, but I heard he has no social skills. Did you hear how he made the last girl he dated cry?"

"Iwaizumi and Oikawa are best friends, but Iwaizumi isn't anywhere near as charming as Oikawa." 

"Iwaizumi is kind of cute, but I heard he's kind of a brute when you get to know him." 

Rough around the edges. Gruff. Lacks tact. 

The descriptions never seem to end and although it stings a bit, Iwaizumi can't deny that there's some truth to all of the above. 

So he swears off dating throughout the rest of high school, dedicating himself to volleyball, making it to Nationals, passing the college entrance exam, leaving highschool with no regrets as he spends as much time laughing and fooling around with Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki as he can before hopping onboard a flight to California. 

America is different. College is different. And suddenly he feels like he's the beauty and the girls around him are beasts. 

Iwaizumi knows that even by Japan’s more conservative standards, he still falls on the quieter and introverted side of the spectrum, so acclimating to a place like California is a cultural shock to say the least. He feels as skittish as a mouse as girls blatantly flutter their eyelashes and casually lay their hands on his shoulders in class. He almost drops his drink in surprise when drunk college girls walk right up to him and attempt to lock lips at parties. And on the few dates that he does go on, he feels like a wide-eyed blushing maiden when he’s practically dragged into apartments after a date has ended under the guise of just watching a TV show together, only to realize that his date has much less innocent intentions. 

He tries to convince himself that it’s not just him, that it’s just a clash of cultures and that he’ll get used to it. But he throws his phone across the room when he sees pictures of Oikawa looking perfectly at home in Argentina’s arguably more sensuous and passionate culture. Even Matsukawa and Hanamaki handle themselves just fine the few times they come to visit Iwaizumi and he groans when he sees the two men soak up the attention and physical touches without even batting an eye. 

Fine, so maybe it is just him. 

Tired of being siloed into the roles of beauty and beast, he once again pushes dating aside, opting instead to dive headfirst into his studies, join the university’s volleyball club, explore the west coast. He gets good grades. He makes new friends. He gets to continue playing the sport he loves. All in all, it’s a great life and he really can’t complain. But every time he walks past a couple on campus holding hands, every time he sees a couple sitting together in the college coffee shop, every time he video chats with his old highschool friends and they go on and on about the girls they’re currently seeing, he feels a sharp pang of longing deep inside of him. 

Years pass and he busies himself with acing his exams and landing a solid career and now that he has his dream job as an athletic trainer for Japan’s National team, he hardly has time to think about anything outside of his rowdy team, let alone dating or women. And it certainly helps that the males he’s surrounded with on a daily basis all have one track minds, too focused on volleyball, on the court, on always excelling to care about romance or relationships. It’s a mindset he’s more than well acquainted with and he feels like he’s finally in his element as he barks orders and drills at the sweaty athletes, grinning when Bokuto’s spikes get stronger, giving a thumbs up when Hinata jumps even higher than before. 

Who needs a ring on their finger or a woman on their arm when victory tastes even sweeter than any love story? 

Or so he thinks until he meets you. 

The team is celebrating another victory at their favorite bar and although Iwaizumi is happy for them, he keeps a close eye on how many drinks they’re chugging, knowing that the role of babysitter will always fall on Ushijima and him. But all seems well so far. Atsumu and Sakusa aren’t at each other’s throats. Hinata and Bokuto are speaking in relatively coherent sentences. So he decides to reward himself with another drink, making his way over to the counter and waiting for the bartender to notice him. 

It’s a busy night and he sighs when minutes pass by, but he tenses up when a teasing voice reaches his ears. 

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep on frowning like that.” 

It’s instinctive, the way he scowls and snaps back at the stranger without even looking at them, telling them that’s just his face and if they don’t like it, they can take a hike. But he pales when he registers his harsh words and an apology is already forming in his mouth when he whips his head around to look at you, only to stare in surprise when you just cackle at him, eyes glimmering with mischief and curiosity as you introduce yourself, so different from the usual disappointed or judgemental looks he receives from women. 

And he wonders if this is a prank or a dream, disbelief coursing through him at how easily the two of you converse after years of believing that he would never find someone he was compatible with. There’s no need to sugarcoat his words, to filter his thoughts and he watches in awe as you take it all in stride, never flinching at his frank words, rolling your eyes with an amused smile on your face before sending a quip of your own right back at him, filling in the gaps when words don’t easily flow from his mouth. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t feel like a beauty or a beast. He’s just himself. Iwaizumi Hajime. 27. Athletic trainer. A man quickly falling head over heels for the woman besides him.

Dating you is a breath of fresh air. It’s comfortable. It’s natural. It just feels...right. There’s no pressure on him to be prince charming (although he tries his best and ends up grumbling when you just laugh at his stiff attempts of eloquent conversation and polite mannerism). There’s no tears or vague confusing anger directed his way when he misses subtle cues or phrases something horribly (both of which he is often guilty of) and he just nods and listens, jotting down mental notes when you tell him directly and clearly why you’re upset with him. 

And in return you see his more nuanced signs of affection and love. You see it when he roughly grabs your bags from you and holds them for you. You feel it when he silently corrects your posture when you’re working out together. You hear it when he briskly grunts at you to stop working so much and get some real food and sleep.      

Life isn’t a fairytale. There are no magic teapots to provide guidance. There’s no spell to blame their fights on. There’s no magic that will instantly restore peace. There’s only two humans, two equals learning how to love, navigating through life together, sticking side by side through the fights, the tears, the laughter, and the smiles. 

And Iwaizumi can’t help but think this is far better than any romantic fantasy, even a tale as old as time like Beauty and the Beast.    

[moondustis]

on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary:  “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it! 

act 1: messy affairs 

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently. 

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year. 

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start.  That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again. 

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny. 

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time. 

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question. 

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says. 

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly. 

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks. 

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you. 

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more. 

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you. 

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out. 

"Well he's hot." That too. 

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot. 

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them. 

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud. 

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other. 

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him. 

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?" 

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something." 

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face. 

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips. 

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow. 

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you. 

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good. 

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about. 

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in. 

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation. 

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs. 

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine. 

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it. 

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there. 

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks. 

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles. 

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin. 

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more. 

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him. 

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good." 

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work. 

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with. 

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it." 

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me." 

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself. 

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you. 

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake. 

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...” 

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums. 

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.  

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this. 

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time. 

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?" 

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush.  "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it. 

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier. 

"Had fun night?" 

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it.  "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him. 

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.  

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday." 

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away. 

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks. 

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water. 

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened. 

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well. 

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you. 

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on. 

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake. 

"I'm being serious." 

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are. 

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort 

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection. 

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early. 

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus. 

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and  with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer. 

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party." 

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose. 

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know. 

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."  

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from." 

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?" 

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny. 

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl." 

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him. 

"Sure." You take a sip of your own.  "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch.  "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask.  "Ok then, why psychology?" 

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that.  "What about you? Why did you choose business?" 

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on." 

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say,  "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."  

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least. 

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used." 

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time. 

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself. 

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep. 

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often. 

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone. 

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile. 

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him. 

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles. 

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study." 

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do." 

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well. 

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did. 

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask. 

 He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile. 

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile. 

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now. 

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan. 

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big  as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. 

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come. 

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.  

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face. 

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

 act 3: yellow light  (hit the brakes) 

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people. 

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing  just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about. 

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it. 

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile. 

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound. 

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually.  "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out." 

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours. 

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really. 

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?" 

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome. 

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?" 

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?" 

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that. 

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you." 

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right." 

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest. 

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have. 

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then." 

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue.  "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be. 

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."  

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on? 

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful. 

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason. 

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend. 

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone. 

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little." 

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it. 

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past. 

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore. 

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing. 

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye. 

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore. 

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened. 

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late. 

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself. 

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy. 

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.  

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much. 

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away. 

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation. 

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it. 

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief. 

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice. 

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily. 

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic. 

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back. 

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.” 

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come. 

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful. 

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again. 

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt. 

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it. 

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour. 

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned  yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for. 

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago. 

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane. 

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar. 

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs. 

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.” 

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this. 

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years. 

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are. 

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. 

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.” 

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.” 

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.” 

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.” 

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums. 

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly. 

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.” 

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.