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frozenjokes · 6 months ago

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The Art Of Being Kidnapped [1/2]

next / Ao3 link with CWs

“Byeeee! Have a nice time!” Tango’s cheery lilt echoed across the icy cavern before the metal door, built like a vault, slammed shut. A superhero Jimmy didn’t recognize rolled across the slick floor, momentum from being thrown inside carrying him a considerable distance. Sometimes Jimmy forgot Tango was quite strong; certainly not the beefiest among his line of work, but enough to send a small avian skidding across the floor of his dungeon.

The avian’s wings and hands were bound, just like Jimmy’s were, but the ropes were only meant to last for travel, and sure enough, within minutes of writhing and foaming at the mouth on the ground (which he didn’t have to do, his legs weren’t bound..), the superhero was free, flying to the door and slamming the full force of his body against it, predictably, winding himself immediately.

Jimmy stifled a laugh as the avian stumbled backwards with a heaving chest, falling into a sit to catch his breath. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed Jimmy yet, but then again, the particularly angry superheroes always took a bit more time. Unfortunate. Jimmy hoped this guy wasn’t as much of an asshole as he looked (after many years of this, Jimmy got pretty good at figuring out who he was dealing with relatively fast), but if that was the case, Jimmy was sure he could needle a larger tip out of Tango in the case that this guy really gave him trouble. This was an unusual job in the first place; Jimmy had never been asked to trap participants in a maze before, then supervise while they traversed it. But Decked Out was fun and Tango paid handsomely, so really, Jimmy didn’t mind the change of pace.

“Help?” Jimmy tried, though the hero didn’t hear him over his own banging on the door and ferocious screeching. He got a sense of dejavu watching, though he’d seen this kind of temper tantrum about a thousand times by now. Still, the familiarity of this hero was something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey! Help me? Please?” Jimmy wiggled a little pathetically against his restraints, far from tight, but enough not to slip out without effort. Personally, Jimmy would rather save his energy for the hero.

The avian turned, then froze where he stood, like the guy he was called to come save was the last thing he expected to see at his feet. Jimmy suppressed a sigh. This guy was going to be insufferable.

“JIMMY!?”

Jimmy stopped. Now, that sort of reaction wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for heroes that knew him, but Jimmy had never seen this one before, so unless this guy had been warned (something which, hilariously, never seemed to be the case), Jimmy didn’t know what to do with that. But the avian didn’t sound angry.. Oh, worse idea, Jimmy used to know this person. Not the least bit unlikely given he attended the shittiest college in the city with all the poorest, most troubled kids around. Jimmy hadn’t even lasted long enough to get a degree, it was just too much. Hence the work he did now.

Exactly what that was..? Well, when people asked what he did for work, he usually answered freelance. Freelance kidnapping? Freelance being kidnapped? He was still working on the title. Needless to say, living in a place like this you learn pretty quickly that 90% of the ‘superheroes’ and the villains they fight are either cripplingly insecure, pieces of shit, or both, but sometimes the wannabe villains have a bit of an attention craving they just can’t scratch on their own. It turns out that Doing Evil can be a lot of work, and sometimes you just want to take out your daddy issues on an equally unstable individual under the guise of villainy without all the fuss! So for a price, Jimmy makes the fuss for them! He’ll scream, let himself be dramatically carried away, shoved into an unmarked van, generally manhandled- whatever gets the attention of an unsuspecting superhero who Jimmy would then lead into a trap, arena, whatever he’s getting paid for, and bam! Everyone’s happy!

Some villains didn’t even want the attention of superheroes, they just enjoyed catching Jimmy off his guard, which, by the way, was not part of any of his contracts, but Joel wasn’t going to stop Kidnapping First, Paying Later anytime soon, so at this point it was just a fact of his life he had to get used to.

Oh right, the job he was doing right now.

“Do I know you?” These words seemed to snap the hero back in his facade, the avian shifting his weight in a show of nerves.

“I- no, I don’t think so. No, no, definitely not. Probably not. Sorry. Just reminded me of someone I know.”

Jimmy snorted, rolling his eyes. “Someone called Jimmy? That’s my name too, what a coincidence.”

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” The hero looked sheepish, but it was good natured, a ghost of a smile just visible under his mask.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got one. He looks exactly like me and’s called Jimmy, how did you know?”

Ther hero crossed his arms in a sweeping gesture, snarking with a scoff, “Oh shut it with the sarcasm,” but even though the tone behind his voice was teasing, Jimmy felt like he had been transported right back to his college dorm. He recognized that. He knew exactly who this was. Short, dirty blonde avian with dark talons and a darker temper? Of course he became a superhero, what a damn perfect fit for a guy like that. ‘JIMMY?’ He recognized that too. The scream, pitched in all the worst ways. After a while, every word Grian spoke was like pulling a cheese grater over and over across his ears until they were nothing but stumps. Yeah, Tango would be tipping him big today.

“Jimmy? You okay?” The direct address snapped Jimmy back to reality, though he wasn’t sure how much he had missed. Regardless, Grian did get to work, kneeling to undo his restraints. Jimmy was relieved to stretch his wings, slowly getting to his feet once the ropes were cut. “This is embarrassing,” Grian said, and Jimmy was sure it was, “Forget I said anything. I think we shared a class or two, that’s all.”

“I get it.” Jimmy mumbled, tucking his wings back. “Tango’s been sending out all sorts of reports and notices to trick people into coming out here, so it’s your lucky day I guess. You won’t be staying long though, he just wants you to run the dungeon and then you can fly off.”

Grian’s eyes were obscured by the mask, but Jimmy was pretty sure they narrowed. “I’ve never heard of a ‘Tango’ before. Who is he? How long have you been here? Is he just keeping you here as bait?” How sweet of Grian to not realize he’s been set up yet. Well, Jimmy wasn’t about to break the news if he didn’t have to.

“He keeps a low profile. Tango’s been shut in working on this place for the last fifteen years, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him, especially since the location is so out of the way of the city. Decked Out is newly finished- it’s a game, basically. He wants to watch people play it. It’s not what you’d call ‘up to code’ though, so it’s pretty dangerous. Need the athletic sort to make it any bit interesting. But yeah, I’m bait.” Jimmy shrugged, “He keeps me around to explain the rules. Usually the kidnappee, you, is a little more receptive to someone on their level, me, rather than.. y’know.”

“I’ll get you out of here.”

Jimmy laughed, he couldn’t help himself, though he quieted when he saw the bottom half of Grian’s face screw up, bracing himself to be yelled at. It never came.

“I’ve heard that before,” Jimmy settled on instead, taking a careful breath. He didn’t like the way Grian was looking at him. He never really liked the way Grian looked at him; despite his softer features, Grian’s face was anything but kind.

“Well I’m sure you’ve heard this before as well, but I’m different. I do my due diligence unlike most of the douchebags in this town. Where’s the way out?”

Stubborn. Vindictive. Jimmy wondered if Grian had changed at all in the dozen years since they’d talked. He shrugged. “The gate isn’t open yet, but it should be ready soon. Until then, what should I call you?”

Grian blinked. “Oh- CuteGuy. You can call me CuteGuy.”

“Well then, CuteGuy, once you go in you’re going to get a compass-“ Jimmy stopped short at yelling from down the hall, Grian as well freezing in his place.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE! I SWEAR if you singe my uniform I am SENDING YOU THE BILL!” Oh! Well that was a lovely surprise. Jimmy heard Tango grumble something in response, but he was mostly drowned out by HotGuy’s dramatics. Good man HotGuy was, always making sure to give those supervillains what they paid for, though, Tango wasn’t exactly looking for a fight.

At once Grian was on his toes, creeping toward the door, but Jimmy shook his head. “I would stand back.”

‘Tango breathes fire’ was left unsaid when Grian shot him a sharp glare, not listening of course, and Jimmy wasn’t about to fight him, perfectly content to watch Grian get a face full of flame as Tango swung the door open. Grian reeled back with a startled yelp, but Jimmy doubted he was actually too hurt, not when Tango was skilled in controlling the temperature of his fire. His eyes would certainly sting though; deserved, certainly, for thinking Tango wouldn’t be ready for an attack. Idiot.

In the wake of the flame, a thoroughly netted HotGuy was pushed inside, decidedly much heavier than an avian and therefore unthrowable, but HotGuy didn’t seem to mind, struggling valiantly until the metal door slammed shut, Tango continuing to grumble from the other side as he walked down the hall.

“Jimmy!” HotGuy threw up his arms, a gesture hindered by the net. Jimmy snorted, moving to help HotGuy out while he continued to blabber on, “I was hoping you’d be here! It’s been a while dude, how’ve you been? Still going strong?” HotGuy didn’t even wait until the net was entirely untangled to try and stand, movement that made everything needlessly difficult, but Jimmy didn’t mind. Though he didn’t get the chance to respond either when HotGuy screamed, practically jumping into Jimmy’s arms.

“CuteGuy! How long have you been there, standing all stiff and puffed up and angry like a miniature gargoyle, look at you!”

Grian did, in fact, look like a puffed up cat, but HotGuy’s comment snapped him out of his frozen state, shooting back with a huff, “Miniature? How big do you think gargoyles are?”

“I mean, probably pretty big! Protecting stuff and all.”

Grian sighed sharply, a sound that set Jimmy’s feathers on end. But Grian didn’t push back, changing the subject. “You two.. know each other?”

HotGuy jumped to his toes, eyes absolutely radiant as he turned to Jimmy. “He doesn’t know?” his tone was colored with excitement, and Jimmy had to laugh, shaking his head.

“Know what?” Grian snapped at HotGuy, sucking away all the joy from the air, “What don’t I know?” Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from whirling around, an aggressive movement that seemed to catch Grian off guard, surprise clear in his raised wings, but Jimmy stopped himself, shaking his head. Not worth the fight. HotGuy looked confused by the rise in tension, bringing Jimmy back down to Earth.

“I doubt anyone else will come,” he said instead, stony, “I rarely get two at once. The gates should open soon.”

Grian. God. Jimmy should be over this by now. He thought he was over it.

Jimmy was a sociable guy. Making friends wasn’t a chore for him, but keeping them was much harder, and finding perfect fits seemed nearly impossible. Oftentimes he felt very out of place. He was an athletic sort of person, sporty, but a lot more sensitive than most guys. He really enjoyed being in shape, the structure of practice and working out, but he didn’t always love the social aspect of playing competitive sports, and college football wasn’t an exception. Too much pressure, too much toeing the line of people he wanted to associate with, and don’t get him wrong, these guys were his brothers, that’s just how the intensity of college sports worked, but Jimmy never felt able to be wholly.. there. They just weren’t exactly right, not warm enough, not free enough with their interests and hobbies and love.

Grian was his randomly assigned roommate for the first semester of college dorm life, and like most people Grian was pretty reserved in the beginning. Didn’t have many friends, kept to himself, but liked to go to the dining hall and such with Jimmy if for no other reason than to have someone to go with. Grian was chatty once you got him going, and weird, unabashedly odd in all the best kinds of ways. They didn’t have many common interests, but talking with Grian made Jimmy want to check out the things he was into, to understand all his incredibly specific rants and takes on topics Jimmy had zero knowledge of. Grian was fun, a little shy at first, but genuinely delightful to listen to, confident in his opinions in the way that put you on board even when you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He was charming! He was kind of cool in a way, the dorky kind of cool. The ‘cringe is dead and Grian killed it’ kind of way.

But even on his best behavior, Grian was always so.. angry. It changed the atmosphere of every room he entered, thick and boggy like wading through swamp water. There was just something wrong with him, like, literally wrong, the type of wrongness that sparks concern, that makes you wonder what happened? The type of wrongness that makes an outsider want to meet you with compassion, to help you, to make your miserable world a little bit less drab.

The delusions of a savior complex, really. But at first it wasn’t that bad. Grian was mostly reclusive, but despite a bit of awkwardness, he was surprisingly socially adept, charming and funny when it came to first impressions and relatively skilled at being liked by his peers. But the warning signs were there. The constant balling of his fists when the smallest thing didn’t go his way, the twitch of his strained smile, his always-tense shoulders. Grian seemed to view every social interaction like it was war, and he’d do anything to win. It was like he knew how pervasively unpleasant he was inside, how bubbling negativity coated his insides like black tar. He needed to be competitive. He needed to be on top.

And somewhere along the line Grian had decided Jimmy was the enemy.

Jimmy didn’t know what he’d done to make Grian hate him so much. Was it the positivity? Jimmy had tried to offset the stream of anger with his own suggestions; maybe she was late for class, maybe the sun was in his eyes, maybe they just missed the trash can and didn’t notice- He hadn’t been trying to challenge Grian, he didn’t even believe half of the excuses he spouted whenever Grian whined or complained about something entirely inconsequential, he just wanted his ex-roommate to realize that not everyone was personally out to get him, y’know?

How Grian decided Jimmy was one of those people working against him, Jimmy had no idea. Sometimes Jimmy thought that Grian was psychotic, like, literally in the Very Mentally Unwell sense of the word. He was just so.. defensive. Paranoid. Mean, and not always on purpose, he would just say things that dug at Jimmy’s patience until he was constantly teetering on the edge of snapping back and really making a mess of things.

Most of the time though, when Grian was mean, it was on purpose. At some point early on Grian had decided he couldn’t trust Jimmy, and god Jimmy spent so much time trying to earn that trust back just to be slighted over and over- petty things, constant criticism over the slang he used, the music he listened to- god forbid Jimmy forget something in the dorm or come back a little late from a bar after Grian had gone to sleep.

And the worst thing was, Jimmy wanted to help him! He still wanted to help Grian after months and months of being mistreated. He wanted to be a friend to someone who clearly needed some sort of support in a city that was run dry of resources for even those who could afford them. Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up on the edge of poverty like so many of his peers, worked to help pay his parents’ debts since he was first able. He’d watched high school classmates do the same, fall to drinking or drugs, die before they even hit 18. He spent so much time being afraid for Grian, intrusive imaginings of how he might die young haunting boring lectures. Oftentimes he’d be overwhelmed by those anxieties, intense impulses sending him sprinting back to the dorm, throwing the door open certain of what he’d find, just to see Grian in his lofted bed, headphones in, glaring at his phone. Sometimes Grian would look up, meet Jimmy’s frightened eyes, then look back down. Sometimes he’d be ignored altogether. Sometimes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Grian knew Jimmy’s schedule by heart, memorized before even Jimmy had it down. Oftentimes, Jimmy found that Grian would get quite upset, if either of their schedules were changed last minute. If Jimmy showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be when Grian wasn’t expecting it.

That made bouts like this all the more embarrassing. Grian wanted an answer. Jimmy didn’t want to know what he’d say if he heard Jimmy was worried about him for no reason. So he lied. He always lied.

“I forgot. I’ll go now.”

Grian would scoff. “Idiot.” Jimmy heard that a lot. Stupid. Dumbass. Idiot. The like.

Jimmy wasn’t stupid.

But the harder Jimmy tried, the more Jimmy pushed, the more vindictively abusive Grian became. That first semester of college were some of the worst months of Jimmy’s life. Trapped in a dorm room not much bigger than a prison cell with a guy who went out of his way to find fault with every singular thing Jimmy did. You’re so loud Jim, you’re so damn loud. That was his main complaint. As much as Jimmy loathed Grian’s voice, the other seemed to despise his own tenfold whether Jimmy was singing, talking on the phone, or simply speaking to friends while playing games, Grian had these physical reactions like he wanted to tear off his own skin. By the end of the semester, both of them sat on their sides of the room in complete silence.

Jimmy didn’t see HotGuy coming when the hero launched forward for a hug, a gesture Jimmy returned with a laugh as HotGuy squeezed, picking him up and spinning him around. At this point, Jimmy had accepted HotGuy had way too much energy to spend doing anything else, and honestly, he couldn’t say he minded. It was nice to have someone be so excited to see him.

“How long has it been? Over a year, surely!” HotGuy practically sang right into Jimmy’s ear, and Jimmy couldn’t help the dry thought of how much Grian must hate HotGuy from slipping through. “I missed you! You’ve got to come by more often, come on, work can’t be that hard to come by in the big city, huh?”

Jimmy wheezed a bit under HotGuy’s grip, tapping his shoulder somewhat urgently, “Okay, bud. Can’t breathe. Time to put me down, big man. And yeah, work can be that bad when everyone knows who you are. Sorry!”

“I’m feeling out of the loop here,” Grian cut in, but to Jimmy’s own sick delight, HotGuy didn’t even acknowledge the other hero, focus entirely on Jimmy.

“So what’s it this time? We busting you out? Dramatic chase? Explosions? Actually, I would rather not get blown up. But this guy’s got a fire thing going on, is stuff going to explode?”

“You’re not busting me out,” Jimmy waved HotGuy off when the other lingered a little too long in his personal bubble, “There’s an exit at the end of the game whether you win or lose, but since you’re going in one at a time, there won’t be any-“

THE DUNGEON IS READY FOR ITS NEXT VICTIM

The gate ahead began to churn open and cool air whooshed through, particles of ice and snow dusting the path ahead. Jimmy laughed off HotGuy’s mortified looking expression, uncomfortably avoiding Grian’s eye. He didn’t imagine a trapped Grian was a very pleasant one, and given the loaded silence as Jimmy started toward the open door, he got the sense Grian was thinking quite intensely. Jimmy had zero desire to know what was going on in that head.

“Come on,” he said, forcing a smile to a wary looking HotGuy, “It’s not too bad. I’ll grab you both your compasses and give the rundown. You’ll have to leave that bow though, sorry. It’ll be returned to you later.” HotGuy blinked back to attention, scrambling a little to catch up while Grian stayed at the rear, quiet.

“I have to leave my bow? Are you sure? I don’t know if I like the sound of the uh- dungeon. Do I get anything to defend myself? What’s down there?”

“Tango’s dogs are down there. You don’t want to shoot Tango’s dogs, do you HotGuy? Those are his pets!”

“Well-“ HotGuy looked flustered, like a guy who probably would want to shoot Tango’s dogs, but didn’t want Jimmy to know that. There was a reason Jimmy didn’t outright say Tango’s dogs were actually ravagers. “Alright, but do Tango’s dogs eat people?”

“They might shake you around a bit, but no, they won’t eat you. Plenty of people have gone through the dungeon plenty of times, lost, and hopped right back in. It’s meant to be played over and over, you’ll be fine.”

“And it’s the only way out?” Grian’s voice sliced the air, hard and focused, and Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound. Everything sounded so critical out of his mouth.

“You think I’d lie?” Jimmy couldn’t crush down the snark as he side-eyed Grian behind him, but Grian’s expression barely shifted, his wings only lowering slightly.

“I didn’t-“

“Wellllll,” HotGuy cut in unhelpfully, missing the tension as he wrapped a playful arm around Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Okay-“ Grian shook his head, hands brushing his face in loose fists, “What is going on with you two.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” HotGuy jumped up and away, instead falling back to walk with Grian, getting in his space and tousling his hair. The casual movement made Jimmy freeze in place, but Grian only squeaked, batting at HotGuy with palmed hands, careful not to catch the other’s skin with his talons. For a moment Grian met Jimmy’s eye, and then it was over, HotGuy grabbing at his hands and wrestling him without a single care in the world.. Whatever.

Warily, Jimmy left them to do their thing. He didn’t feel good about it- actually, he felt a lot like he was leaving HotGuy with a ticking time bomb, but he did have to get their compasses, so might as well go while Grian was in a good(?) mood. What a novel concept that was. Jimmy sighed, zipping up his coat as he stepped into a side room.

For a long moment he considered giving Grian a Level 2 compass, but that wouldn’t really be plausible, and honestly Grian probably wouldn’t make it out of Level 1 anyway. Tango wouldn’t be happy either; his focus was on testing how new players reacted to the game, and anything beyond Level 1 would probably be overwhelming.

Hm. Would Tango let Jimmy into the tunnels to watch Grian’s run while HotGuy was still in the waiting room? Jimmy would really love nothing more than to watch Grian scream and run around and eat shit on the icy paths, but Tango wouldn’t want HotGuy unsupervised, so it probably wouldn’t happen. Unless Jimmy sent HotGuy in first.. Surely the few extra minutes spent with Grian would be worth it. Yeah, no, that would be good. He’d give HotGuy an easy artifact spot so he’d either win or be carried out by a ravager quickly, then send Grian deep into Level 1. Yes. Perfect.

“Is this it?” HotGuy asked when Jimmy returned, fingers curled around the bars of the gate that separated the three of them from the dungeon. Grian was looking as well, though more intensely, head pressed against the bars like he wanted to gather as much information as humanly possible. Jimmy couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah,” he started, slipping into his prepared speech, “So basically, the point of the game is to find an artifact hidden in the dungeon, then bring it back to the start without getting caught by Tango’s dogs. The artifact placement is random, but your compass will help you find them; they point in the direction of a hidden panel on the floor. Once you find the panel, press your compass to the spot and it will be exchanged for an artifact. Then bring it back here.”

“How do we start?” Grian turned, eager, or maybe just antsy as he eyed the compasses in Jimmy’s hands.

“Not yet, and you’ll go one at a time, HotGuy first.” Though Grian didn’t look satisfied, and in a panicked gesture to appease him, Jimmy added, “Here, both of you can take these and once you’re ready you’ll press the bottom to the indent over on the panel by the gate,” Jimmy handed the compasses over gingerly, HotGuy taking it with curious fingers and Grian outright snatching it out of Jimmy’s hand, but before Jimmy could recoil or even react, Grian was on top of the panel, slamming his compass in before whirling around and grabbing Jimmy’s hand in a vice grip.

“I’m getting you out of here. Come on, HotGuy! Let’s get this over with.”

Jimmy’s mouth ran dry as the gate screeched open, only managing to squeak out a “One at a time!” before he was yanked forward, HotGuy cheering behind him. Jimmy nearly tumbled down the steps as Grian bolted into the maze, struggling to catch his tongue enough to form words. “This really isn’t necessary!”

“We’re going to save you, Jimmy!” HotGuy sang, oblivious to his distress, “Don’t worry a hair on your silly little head, with us you’ll be out of here in no time!” HotGuy winked and Jimmy didn’t get the chance to groan, far more preoccupied with Grian’s refusal to let go, and only having the mind to struggle out of his grip as the gate shuddered to a close.

“The game isn’t- guys-“ Jimmy stumbled back to the gate, but it would not be reopening any time soon. “The game isn’t meant to be played with three people! I don’t even have a compass! You need an artifact to get out!”

“Sounds to me like you only need one,” Grian said, perfectly unconcerned despite the new danger, not that he knew the ravagers were around, “I’m sure all three of us can scoot out at once if we’re quick, and if this ‘Tango’ tries to do anything about it, there’ll be two of us to keep you safe.” Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to respond to that before Grian clicked his tongue, “HotGuy, give me your compass.”

“Why? What if I want it?” HotGuy smirked and Grian scoffed, hopping forward to snatch it from him. HotGuy stepped out of the way and held it high out of Grian’s reach, causing the other to squawk and ultimately slip on the ice when he jumped to grab it. Jimmy found himself flinching when HotGuy laughed in Grian’s face, but the hero’s joy quickly turned to a shrill yelp as Grian leapt on him, clambering up his body with the compass in his sights. Unfortunately, the added weight unbalanced HotGuy on the ice and sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Certainly within Grian’s reach, the avian lunging for his prize and rolling out of range of a possible retaliation before getting to his feet.

“Right then.” Grian examined both compasses with great scrutiny, walking a little ways in different directions and nearing corners Jimmy just hoped had a ravager behind them. But Grian was never punished for his lack of attention, never straying too far. In fairness, HotGuy was doing very little to be careful himself, struggling to keep his footing without the talons Jimmy and Grian had; Jimmy would have given him grips for his shoes, but someone was in a hurry. For himself he would have grabbed the fluffy socks Tango had made to help keep his feet from getting too cold, so that was just another thing to resent Grian for. (Grian would not get socks. He did not deserve them.)

“HotGuy’s artifact is closest, so we’re going there.”

“How’d you puzzle that out? Actually, I don’t care.” HotGuy shuffled closer, poking his head over Grian’s shoulder. HotGuy caught Jimmy’s eye, throwing him a narrowed eye smirk before wiggling his fingers and jumping on Grian, wrestling the screeching avian until they both slipped, a crushed Grian losing his grip on the compass and unable to reclaim it before HotGuy scrambled over him (both parties kicking and screaming) until he slid across the compass, grabbing it with both hands.

“If it’s my compass, I get to hold it!” HotGuy got to his knees, arm shooting into the air to brandish his prize.

Grian let his head hit the ice. “We are never getting to our location.”

Jimmy crossed his arms. “Hey, HotGuy gets around the city fine. He could be a great maze navigator.”

“Thank you!” With some struggle, HotGuy got back to his feet, the momentum sliding him back into a forked path where he promptly fell back on his ass.

“We are never getting to our location.”

“You just wait CuteGuy, I’m gonna..” but HotGuy trailed off, eyes blinking wide as he stared at something down the tunnel. Jimmy’s feathers rose as he heard the grunt, but Grian didn’t seem to understand, looking between the two of them with a confused expression before the ravager bulldozed down the hall, HotGuy having no time to run before he was bowled down the hall, “THAT’S NOT A DOG!”

Jimmy spun on his heel, but the noticeable absence of Grian made him turn back around, having to lunge to grab him before the idiot tried to fight a ravager on HotGuy’s behalf.

“Other direction!”

“HotGuy’s-“

“He’ll be fine. We need to go.” Jimmy didn’t give Grian the time to argue, grabbing his wrist and overpowering him when it came to dexterity on the ice. Grian squawked, but luckily ravagers were not sensitive to sound, extra lucky when they turned a corner directly into the face of another and Grian shrieked, nearly falling on his ass before Jimmy pulled him up and back in the right direction.

“Get out of its line of sight!”

Grian only continued to shriek in response. Great. But after dragging Grian kicking and screaming around a couple corners, the ravager got off their tails, grunting as its heavy hooves lumbered down another icy tunnel. Grian let himself slide to a stop once Jimmy let go of his wrist, drifting to a wall and sliding against it to sit on the rocky ground and catch his breath. Jimmy hardly stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“They don’t have much object permanence,” he mumbled instead, “Poor hearing as well. Still, maybe try to stop screaming. There’s about five around on this floor, so at the very least we know where a few of them are. We should keep going.”

“There’s more than one floor?”

“Yes, but our artifacts are on Level 1. It’s not too bad. And if we’re quick, we might still be able to find HotGuy. The ravagers are trained to take someone out of the game once they’re sufficiently down for the count, which is usually about two hits. If HotGuy got away, his artifact is definitely easier, but Tango will take the compass if he’s down, so we have to find him quickly. I think I know where he’ll end up, but stay on your guard.

Grian was quiet for a moment, catching his breath, sure, but the silence seemed deeper than that. Grian was always an intense thinker, the kind of intensity that weighed the air.

“You’ve been in the dungeon before? Tango is putting civilians in here?” He sounded angry. Not surprising, really, but..

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged, struggling not to feel defensive, “Not that many though. One guy just won’t leave. It’s kind of a volunteer program.”

“You’re not a volunteer.”

Technically, this was true. Jimmy was being paid; to run the dungeon as well as lure superheroes into it, though he hadn’t run it since a ravager broke a rib on Level 2.

For a moment Jimmy thought about telling Grian the truth, ditching the ‘helplessly kidnapped’ act and putting everything out on the table so Grian would stop trying to rescue him and leave well enough alone. That way at the very least he could call for Tango who might let him leave through a maintenance tunnel and not have to continue with whatever the hell was happening here. Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to register a deck before they started! However, the thought was dismissed immediately, partially because they only had one compass. In the case that Tango decided to be petty, Jimmy was not about to throw himself into the tusks of a ravager, and he could fantasize all he wanted about throwing Grian to the wolves and stealing the compass for himself, but it just made more sense that they stuck together.

But there was the fear, too, far more persuasive than any sense, the kind of deep seeded instinct that would have Jimmy sprinting in the opposite direction rather than be alone with his college tormentor, look him in the eyes, and tell him he’d been deceived.

Grian always thought Jimmy was hiding something from him. There had been multiple instances of Grian rummaging through his things, not taking, just looking, but not quite putting things back where they had been before. It really messed with Jimmy’s head- what he was even looking for? Grian didn’t have money to spend, but even when Jimmy had left his valuables and cash unguarded, Grian never stole. Jimmy never knew Grian to want anything either; weed, alcohol, the like, but for the most part Jimmy didn’t keep any of that in the dorm, and Grian never expressed interest. Grian didn’t even borrow pens or notebook paper; Jimmy was pretty sure he’d rather die than ask for help in any form, but regardless, it drove Jimmy crazy just to have Grian rummaging through his shit and having no idea what he wanted.

“Hey, if you need anything man, you just let me know, alright? I’ve got extra school supplies if you need to borrow anything for exams,” Jimmy had said one night, testing the waters in the rare occurrence when Grian’s headphones were off.

Jimmy would never forget the look of distaste Grian threw him, head cocked and eyes dark and narrowed; Grian didn’t even have to say anything to hurt him most days. “No.”

And that was that.

He never dreamed of confronting Grian, no, Jimmy would never bare his hand to a cornered animal. But one thing was for certain, he kept his phone and laptop passwords close, changing them regularly. Anything remotely private he locked up in his closet while he was out, Grian’s eyes burning into his back, suspicious and untrusting. He always made Jimmy feel so afraid. He wasn’t hiding anything or whatever it was Grian had convinced himself Jimmy was doing, he just wanted to keep his privacy private. Jimmy still had a habit of hiding his things, squirreling them away in odd places even when he was living alone. He didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time, but at some point it was pointed out to him (“This is why you can never find anything Jimmy, who keeps their receipts under the blooming mattress!”), and Jimmy had no doubt where the habit came from.

Apparently Jimmy’s lack of answer to Grian’s question was enough of an answer to him. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Intense. Always so intense.

Jimmy had no desire to fight him. “Okay.”

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #cw: past abuse #tw: past abuse #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #tangotek #decked out #decked out 2 #hotguy #cuteguy

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iiapple · 1 month ago

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do you hate knife as a character or what the fandom/his relationship with suitcase has turned into /genq

both

theres aspects to him i enjoy though usually its paired with another character's interactions with the general juvenile violence in season 1 - early season 2. knife and trophy's whole deal is so ridiculously stupid its laughable but in an enjoyable way where im kinda entertained. it can make for a lot of funny interactions that are just jabs at one another (and trophy getting the short end of the dick which is always funny). he and pickle are fun too even without the romancey shippinf component, they can be at a base just stupid gay bros that chill. while he was caught up in mic's business and did lend a hand in her arc, i do prefer how it is now where again, its just slight jabs and non melodramatic fun (add in soap to grill his ass, soapmic knickle video game sesh and soap is crushing everyone at it like hell)

however its the push of him needing to be this "philosophical deep guy who analyzes everyone correctly and its soooooo interesting how much hes changed" that really irks me. because i honestly dont buy it and just see a man who self pities under the guise of "learning and growing i help others now because ive changed". hes like balloon to me in that sense except hes able to keep it composed and together without becoming outwardly desperate. its honestly irritating how much of an involvement he has now and again, how much of a push there is to him being in the top 2 after "all his growth". i just dont give a fuck. why should i give a fuck about a man who burnt and harassed and bullied and tortured a woman in season 1 for fun, and had others try to join in on it too? and the GALL of him to even apologize to marshmallow for it too LOOOOOL... "ohhhh poor me im sorry marshmallow for hurting you before" pussy couldnt even state what he did to her, weak ass self fellating apology im SO glad marsh didnt accept it and was NOT kind about it in front of him. she shouldve start throwing rocks at him. all this "change and teaching" i will never forgive that man for what he did to women

not to mention, how practically of little to no help he was towards suitcase who, was dealing with bigger issues than he was as if hes fuckin get it. such bullshit advice and "lessons" hed tell her when its like dude, shut the hell up!!! youre saying the dumbest shit and still pinning it all against her somehow when shes been tossed around her supposed alliance because those 3 idiots couldnt get shit together for once. that AND her psychosis coming onto the foreground of it all of course shes not gonna talk about it further because you keep pushing in shit that she has no fault in, as if shedve trust you with that. its sweet that theyre working now against everything now but god lol, i just dont buy their newfound ammends and friendship of sort personally

what the fandom has done is REALLY hyopcritical. now im not gonna say its every single person who does this, nor am i a fan of monolith-ing (?) a group of people because of a common pattern, but its just really REALLY funny seeing people going after pairings like lairy or whatever saying its "proship" while shipping a man who has a history of violence on women with a psychotic woman who he has offered piss poor assistance to in the name of his own weird beliefs of changing and helping. idgaf for discourse around a bunch of pixels over trivial shit that really isnt THAT big of an issue (lairy discourse), especially because well, theyre wrong as fuck, but how are people gonna say one thing then turn around and do The Same Shit under another flavour. knifecase is such a kick in the balls to women and another example of how fandom greatly prefers men over women WHATEVER the situation is. theyll fawn over a man whos done shit and think "yeah hes my poor onglydoople poop. only HE suffers in this work of media" while greatly ignoring the issues the women in the same piece of work deal with by writing (misogyny) and circumstances (misogyny again). this world is founded immensely on misogyny and we're never getting the fuck out of it and while yeah im ranting about object character violence being sexist/misogynistic, you gotta get that its all a repeated pattern of these behaviours these mentalities this culture. you can argue one thing about writers intentions and beliefs, we dont know these people well enough to point fingers and label. however, how are YOU digesting it? shitting it out? what is your overall take and without using gay fandom buzzwords and misogynist thinking describe the women in the show (rhetorical)

#asks #ii neg #good morning

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lokavisi · 4 months ago

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Yesterday was the blót for Loki that my kindred hosted.* I had known for months that our gothar (spiritual leader of the kindred) wasn't going to be present and that I was defacto leading this one, as I would have volunteered to do if I wasn't for any reason. I had been looking forward to it for so long and had started to build up in my mind what I thought it would be like. For so many reasons (not bad ones, either), it was nothing like what I expected.

I thought I would be bursting with energy and confidence, and I was so tired and dysregulated and anxious. I thought we'd have a large group of attendees with loads of things to say about our beloved Trickster. It was a nice small group, half of whom (if not more tbh) were largely there to learn about Him and therefore didn't give longwinded toasts. The lavishly garish altar I imagined was still a beautiful mishmash of personal and chaotic gifts for the Boi, but not quite so over-the-top. But all the elements that I planned came together. Everyone in the kindred did their ritual piece. I typed out a channeled message from Loki and guised Him while I read it.** It went wonderfully, but the dysregulation made me feel like everything was awful and horrible and that I had somehow ruined everything.

So this morning, after some serious crying and a good night's sleep, I sat down and talked with Him about it. I asked Loki if I had in any way fucked anything up. I was assured I had not, and not only that, that I also provided a great service to Him. "How could I possibly be upset at you for doing the work that helps me reach other people? How do people know of me if not for people like you sharing my words and your own stories about me? How could I possibly not love or appreciate you for that?" 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I am so grateful that this Wild Animal of a Deity who has the reputation of a carpetbagger finds anything to love in the anxious, stubborn, earthy, Virgo/Capricorn-ass stick-in-the-mud ruler-follower that I am. (Though I mostly only care about rules in games and I'm sure I'm generally more fun than I make myself sound, He has huffed about all my "rules" enough for me to feel that way in comparison to Him. lol) I feel like so many things must pass me by and fly over my head when we work together, but They are so damn patient and sweet. Even when They're not. ❤️

*Yes, generally Loki's not a fan of such formalized praise. I get it. What He is a fan of is having a crowd to listen to Him (i.e. like the message I channeled and shared) and hearing genuine praise from people that actually know/care about Him (or at the very least have their minds/hearts open to Him).

**For those who don't know, guising is a practice of essentially putting on an entity's energy. I think of it as possession lite. If possession is someone taking the wheel while you're in the backseat, guising is them taking the backseat while you drive. Though Loki can be (and was) a very loud backseat driver. 😅

#we experience love here #loki deity #norse loki #loki laufeyjarson #upg #lokean #blót #ritual #deity work #deity relationships #personal

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science-lings · 7 months ago

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I think Tumblr ate my last one so here.

Tis your sign to ramble to thine hearts content

I've been saving these until I have thought about something in particular to ramble about so get ready,

I am obsessed with the vibe of the Wright's being born performers. Before choosing to pursue law, Phoenix was an art student, implied to either be pursuing illustration or Shakespearian theater. I like to think that part of the appeal of criminal law for him was how dramatized everything was. It's more about weaving a story that connects all the dots provided for the evidence and witness statements than about, you know, knowledge of the law. It's about plot twists and last-minute saves and becoming the sturdy pillar for your client. Phoenix only chooses cases that are so wacky and hopeless that make for excellent stories. What I'm saying is that Phoenix lives for the drama and how the courtroom turns into a stage where he has to convince everyone else of the story he's piecing together that very moment. There's just something so theatric about yelling 'objection' and slamming the desk and making some improvised quips to taunt the guy you're arguing against.

I'm also of the opinion that the whole Beanix persona was originally intended to be more of a character that Phoenix put up to get Kristoph to believe that he had given up. It's clear that it was all about hiding his true thoughts and his identity from anyone who would recognize his spikey hair and wiggly eyebrows. He deliberately stopped wearing his iconic blue and general business casual getup and you cannot tell me that there wasn't so much thought into how he started to present himself. He's known for being highly saturated and spikey and generally pretty emotionally open so this character he built is the exact opposite of all those things and it's totally on purpose.

And just like Trucy, this character performance is a coping mechanism to keep themselves safe and seemingly confident. They both smile so convincingly and refuse to let anyone know if something is wrong. They're both manipulative but not out of malice, out of need for survival. They've both been on the wrong side of public opinion and in some capacity are aware that they're in the crosshairs of someone incredibly dangerous. They can only try to keep each other safe by playing into the act that they've worked on for years.

So sure they have to hide their true feelings under a quirky guise, but also I think they would join a community theater and be so good at it. They're in musicals together, I think Phoenix can sing, and he can sing well. He was in all his school plays and got so good at projecting his voice that they didn't even need to give him a mic (me core). That's what made him so good at objecting. I think that the ace attorney stage plays should be canon in the aa universe and Phoenix should play himself and he gets Trucy to play Pearl. He accidentally has so much homoerotic tension with the guy who plays Edgeworth that the real Edgeworth gets jealous.

Phoenix should also know about a lot of technical stuff that comes with theater, so he does a lot of the setup for lights and audio for Trucy's magic shows, he helps her move props around and should be so involved because I think that would be fun.

I also think he should know enough magic that she sometimes incorporates him into the act around their friends, so she makes a card disappear and Phoenix pulls the same one out of Edgeworth's ear. I love it when they're concerningly in sync and they can basically read each other's minds. They stare at each other and have fully silent conversations.

#they're drama kids #he looked at max galactica and Mask Demasque and got so excited for the theatrics #i think his brain is full of monologues that he's had to memorize #i don't know what plays they would be in my theater knowledge is moldy from not being touched in so long #they get to be the steel samurai and the iron infant in the steel samurai stage play using the same suit that larry did with no idea he did #i think it would be funny #that way miles could see it and get a little angry that he has so much chemistry with the guy who plays the evil magistrate #ace attorney #pheonix wright #trucy wright #the wrights #ask andromeda #aa headcanons #rambling about headcanons so i don't have to think about the sad

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gluion · 1 year ago

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[part three] of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going) ➵ ji changmin

non-idol!ji changmin x reader, slight non-idol!jacob bae x reader

you and changmin have been best friends since high school, having seen each other at their best and worst. now in your second year of university, you are given the opportunity to work with the unattainable 5th-year you have had a crush on since—jacob bae. with your best friend on the receiving end of your rambles, you could only hope for something to come out of your time working with jacob. that is until changmin decides he wants something more out of his relationship with you.

genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, slow burn, so much FLUFF, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slice of life, so much platonic love in general, suggestive themes, expect a lot of sentimental talks and bantering between changmin and reader, a lot of publication talk (a lot heavier for this chapter but i swear it plays a big role!! sorry i am a writer), light angst on jacob's end (i'm sorry baby), kind of shit opinion piece though (i literally don't know how to write that shit i'm sorry for the writers who read this and are knowledgeable about it!!) kissing and poetic words both from reader and changmin, very minimal chanhee x hyunjae x younghoon, a lot of tearjerker moments

word count ➵ 26k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @sungbeam @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel

a/n ➵ oh i can't believe i finally finished this :') i'm very sad that i have concluded the journey of reader, changmin, chanhee, sunwoo, kevin, and jacob. this story feels more like a commemoration of friendships under the guise of a romance-centric one, if i'm going to be honest. and i'm glad i took my time crafting a universe that shows just how strong and beautiful friendships are overall. i hope that this fic brought you as much comfort as i did writing it </3 you can check my full author’s note here. i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this.

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

When the morning comes, every part of you is ridden with anxiety. Not a wink of sleep was gotten as your mind kept drifting everywhere. How can you like your best friend? This is Changmin; the one who intimidated you at the first meeting; the one who likes to make fun of you and your stupid decisions. This is the same boy who you saw in that god-forbidden shaggy haircut back in high school.

And how did it take five years for you to figure that out? Have you just always liked him? That would be impossible, right? And are you even sure you like him like that? Is this not another case of you mistaking platonic love for a romantic one?

Your eyes look at the clock that sits on the bedside table, showing that it is 9:24 AM. With a sigh, you look up to the ceiling with a rattled brain. Clouds of thoughts kept appearing even in your exhausted state. What does it mean to like your best friend? Is this not a threat to the friendship you have spent building over the years?

And yet, when the image of Changmin comes into your mind, you almost want to scream. Even the thought of him makes you want to vomit your guts out. Your best friend is just an average-looking guy. How can you like him after liking Jacob? God, do you not like the senior anymore?

Before you can entertain such thoughts, you hear someone knock on the door. You quickly sit up and rub your eyes before getting off the bed. In hopes you have gotten rid of any possible sign of exhaustion, you open the door expecting to be met with one of Changmin’s sisters or his mom. But when your eyes land on the boy who has occupied every corner of your mind, your eyes widen in shock.

There he stood—fluffy hair and the same white shirt and navy shorts that you saw him in last night. His face was somewhat puffy from the sleep, but you could notice that his eyes were still droopy. And you fully expect yourself to snap back to reality—remember that he is just an average guy who happens to be your best friend. But god, the sight of him makes you realize that he is nothing like that. This particular view of him is almost too domestic, one that makes you imagine what it would be like to fall asleep and wake up in his embrace. And oh god, he is so absolutely fucked for showing up at your door like this.

At the sight of your shocked expression, Changmin cannot help but furrow his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you choke out quickly as your expression starts to ease back to some normalcy. “W–what’s up?”

With narrow eyes, he says, “Uh, I just wanted to make sure you were awake. We’ll leave after lunch to catch the 2 PM train back.” As soon as you shoot him nothing but a nod, he looks you up and down. “... Okay, I’ll see you in the living room.” After giving him another nod, you quickly shut the door. You let your forehead rest on the door.

When it comes to having a crush, it is nothing but an easy ride, almost like breaking into a new pair of shoes. But liking your best friend? It is only a slippery slope, one that has you falling into the unexpected—the question is if you will come out with linked arms or a bruised heart.

��Y/N-ah, I don’t want you to leave on New Year’s,” Changmin’s mom says with her arms wrapped around you. As your chin rests on her shoulder, your eyes land on your best friend who is hugging his dad goodbye. “I mean,” she stops hugging you and rests her hands on your shoulders. “I just loved having you around the house. It feels like old times when you and Sunwoo would keep me company when Changmin went off to college.” The bittersweet smile on her face is a reminder of how much you have grown to be part of the family.

“Eomma, I’ll be back,” you assure her with a soft smile. She pinches your cheek just like how she first saw you back in the Ji household.

As soon as she lets go of you, she approaches her son to engulf him in a hug. You always knew that his mother misses his presence even more with every day that passes. So when it comes to seeing Changmin melt into his mother’s embrace, you feel your heartstrings tug at the sight. You do not listen to their conversation for it is their moment to share.

Once the two stopped hugging each other, Changmin quickly walked to the spot beside you. “I’ll see you again for graduation.” And when he suddenly links his arm with yours, your breath hitches. It is not that you are uncomfortable doing such in front of his family. Rather, it is your newfound feelings that make you hyperaware of every action.

But when his family shoots you two warm smiles, you feel your shoulders let loose. “You two take care of each other, okay?” His dad orders. And when you take a look at the boy who stands beside you, his eyes are already on you.

“Of course,” your best friend says with his eyes still on you. When his lips turn into a smile, every part of you finds itself melting. “We’ll always have each other.” The moment he looks away from you has you snapping your head back to the family in front of you. You do not miss the teasing smiles that come from his sisters.

“I’m glad you two have each other until now.” Yuna takes a glance at her sister. “I mean, you can see how Hanhee and Byungho are still together—I’m sure it’ll be the same for you two.”

You find yourself flustered over her statement, only realizing the hidden implications of her comparing you two with the other pair. But when you hear your best friend hum, you look at him to only see that godforsaken smile. His grin does nothing but wonders for you; it tugs on your heartstrings; it eases all your anxieties; it proves that everything good in this world is stored in one human named Ji Changmin.

And his reaction only has you hoping for the same thing for you and your best friend. Because who cares if you started to like him in that way? On New Year’s, you are still with him. What matters most is that you guys will stick like glue until the end—your friend group should remain together and withstand the test of time.

“Hey, you’ll be late for your train back,” Hanhee speaks up with a bittersweet smile on her face. When you look down at your phone, you notice that there are fifteen minutes left until the train departs.

With a sigh, you say, “Thank you again, and happy new year! I’ll see you again.” And just like that, you and Changmin bid farewell to the Ji family and your home as well.

Leaving Cheongju will never be easy. This town has everything you grew up with; the swing set that Sunwoo pushed you off too hard which caused the scar on your knee; the marts your friend group of three would rush to once you were dismissed; the familiar faces of your best friends’ families. And having to say goodbye to this place almost felt like saying farewell to a piece of you that you never want to let go.

But the reality is that you are not leaving forever—it is only a “see you” until you close the chapter you are currently in. And the past still lives within you, for you are a kaleidoscope of everything that you have learned to love, hate, and grow with.

You and Changmin dragged the luggage with arms still linked with one another until you finally arrived at the platform. Once your best friend shows your tickets to the man stationed, he gives you a nod and allows you to enter the train.

The two of you walked until you stood in front of your booked seats. Before you could grab onto your luggage, your best friend has already carried it to store in the overhead bin. “Hey, I can handle it.”

Changmin cannot help but chuckle at your statement. “Just take a seat.” You roll your eyes before taking a seat by the window. As soon as your best friend stores his luggage beside yours, he takes his spot in the chair beside you and lets out a sigh. Before you know it, the doors have closed and you are on your way back to university.

You cannot help but look through the window. Your eyes catch sight of the town you had to say goodbye to; some buildings have lost their color; the snow is slowly melting away; unfamiliar faces spread throughout the settlement. The city is not the same, but it will always be the place you love.

“Leaving Cheongju is never easy.” You are snapped out of your thoughts by your best friend who suddenly shares his thoughts. Once you look at him, you notice a sigh leave his mouth as his eyes look through the window. “I get homesick, especially when I think about Gana or Minho’s tteokbokki. I can only imagine how much harder it is for you since you haven’t been here in years.”

And you thought you would agree with his last sentence because this town carries everything that matters—from the memories to the people that you grew up with. But when you look at him, you allow yourself to smile. There is a reason why you were able to withstand being away from Cheongju—it just so happens to be because of the boy who sits beside you.

“You know what got me through it all?” As soon as he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, you grab his hand to intertwine your fingers with his. “You. You’re a piece of Cheongju that will heal me of anything.”

You do not miss the way his eyes widen at your words. But the moment he starts to smile is something you will forever imprint on your mind. You look back through the window and notice that the scenery has changed to the rural areas.

“I never got to say this but I saw the stack you kept—the clippings of my articles from university.” When you feel his grip suddenly become looser, you look at your best friend whose face is painted with shock. “I never knew you would continue keeping my articles like you did back in high school.”

His gaze softens. “Of course I do, you’re my favorite writer.” You pout at his words. “I look forward to your articles. You’re doing good work, always.”

Everything about his words will remind you of a love so pure—one that you know you have the privilege of experiencing. You know you are lucky to have a best friend like him. Not everyone can say they are supported by someone in the same way he supports you. And you are thankful for everything he has done for you.

You look away from him so that you can rest your head on his shoulder. As you look at the passing scenery of greens and blues, you smile to yourself. “Happy New Year, Changmin,” you whisper out. You feel the way his shoulders move as he slowly breathes in and out. “I’m glad that we found our way to each other.”

The two of you sit in silence. The ever-changing scenery is enough to keep you distracted. But most of all, his heat is enough to lull you into slumber—one that you can only imagine how it would be like to fall asleep and wake up in his embrace. Another year has passed and you two are still together—you can only hope for a lifetime with him.

After getting off the train, you two continued to hold hands while making your way to the taxi stand. The area is not too busy despite it being New Year’s which would make it easy for you to find a ride back to your place. But a part of you wishes that there were long lines of people trying to catch a ride—maybe then it would be the perfect excuse to still stay with your best friend.

You turn your head to the right to face the guy who still held your hand. He lets out a sigh with a downcast gaze. “I guess this is where we part ways for now,” he mumbles before looking back at you.

“Yeah.” You smile as you turn your body to face him. “Thank you, again.” You look down at your hand that holds his. “I’m glad you let me spend time with you and your family for the break. I thought I would be fine staying at home but I realized that I would’ve been too lonely in the end.”

As soon as you let out a deep breath, you look back up to him who has a smile. “Hey, I’m glad you joined us. I’m sure my family loved having you over and would definitely keep the offer available anytime.”

For a moment, you two just smile at each other and occasionally look down at your linked hands. You both knew you were going to see each other in a few days, so why did it feel hard to say goodbye for now?

And before you know it, Changmin pulls your hand close to him so that he can bring you into an embrace. Your breath hitches at the sudden action—you are sure he heard it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Your arms find themselves wrapping around his waist before he can remove his off of you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper into his ear as your chin rests on his shoulder. “Just–let’s just stay like this.” And he followed, bringing you closer to him. He found his face snuggled against your shoulder.

Your eyes close for a moment. As your mind replays the events of the trip, you let out a sigh of contentment. You expected your break to be another time of slouching around doing absolutely nothing. Yet, this trip healed you of everything—it allowed you to live the life that you never gave yourself to reminisce about since entering university. But most of all, it gave you a moment of clarity that you desperately needed.

As soon as your arms started to loosen their grip on his waist, his arms let go of you. You two stood in front of each other with small smiles. “I’ll see you in two days, okay?” When you earn a nod from him, you look at the line of taxis. And before you know it, you dragged yourself and your luggage to one of the cars, not looking back to your best friend.

“What could you have possibly needed me for that could not wait until the semester started?” Sunwoo groans as he flops down on the chair by your desk. Currently, you are sitting up in your bed with your iPad lying around.

“Well, the semester is tomorrow! And I’m sure you would want to hear this.” Despite your attempt to explain your urgency (which is practically forcing him to visit you as soon as he arrives back), your best friend cannot help but frown at you.

It has been a day since you last saw Changmin—two days since you came to terms with your feelings toward him. Since the revelation, you have not gotten a wink of sleep. You were up in your thoughts as you kept constantly debating whether what you felt was platonic or romantic.

So when you called your best friend about a supposed emergency without allowing him to ask any questions, he had to hear you out. “Have you noticed that I haven’t unpacked my shit? I practically came rushing here!”

“And that’s how I know you’re a good friend.”

He stands up and says, “I’m going to leave now.”

“No! Wait!” Your frazzled reaction has him eyeing you down. As soon as you let out a sigh, you say, “Please, it is urgent. I’ll even treat you to lunch and help you unpack.” You look down at your hands. “I need to let this out or it will eat me up.”

The moment you let those words leave your mouth, you look back up to see Sunwoo with a worried expression. And just like that, he brings the chair closer to your bed so that he is within arms-length from you. He takes a seat and says, “Okay, I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”

You find your eyes falling back to your hands that pick on the skin around your nails. It is silent for a moment. Your best friend gives you the time you need to muster up the courage to say what is on your mind. The moment your eyes land back on the boy who sits on the chair, you feel the words get stuck in your throat.

“I–god, this is harder than I thought,” you laugh to yourself as you shake your head.

Sunwoo chuckles. “You’re okay, it’s just me.”

You let out a sigh before sharing, “I think something changed during that trip.” When you are met with his confused expression, you scratch the back of your neck. “I think I like Changmin.”

“You do?!” The way Sunwoo shoots up from his seat has you clutching your chest, shocked by his sudden outburst.

“Jesus, Sunwoo! You practically gave me a heart attack.” Although you scold him, he pays no attention to whatever you have to say.

“I can’t believe you like Changmin!”

You roll your eyes. “I said I think, I’m not sure if I do yet.”

“You said yet. Oh my god, you do like him!” The boy continues to exclaim despite your annoyed expression.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Okay, maybe I do.” As you whisper those words, you hear the way Sunwoo gasps. “But I don’t know if this is just me mistaking platonic love with romantic one like before with, you know, you.”

All your best friend does is roll his eyes. “Okay, but this is different!” Despite the worry-free smile on his face, you frown.

“How is it any different? Sunwoo, this is me liking my Changmin out of the blue. I’m pretty sure my crush on you played out the same way,” you argue before crossing your arms.

You expect some type of explanation from your best friend. Maybe he could give you some clarity since you desperately need it. But you are met with an answer that does nothing to help you out. “I don’t know—it just is.” You cannot help but let out a sigh. “Okay, why don’t you give me the full story first? Maybe I can help you out,” he offers with a smile as he grabs onto your shoulder.

And just like that, you gave him a recap of what occurred between you and Changmin during the trip—when you found the stack of clippings of your recent articles from the university’s papers to the hug you shared before parting ways. Every time you mentioned a new moment shared, you always found yourself looking up to your best friend who only listened. For once, he did not react or comment like he used to when you shared about your adventures with Jacob.

The moment you finish sharing, Sunwoo lets out a hum as his hands find their place back in the pocket of his hoodie. “You know, Y/N, I think you should just allow yourself to feel whatever you feel. Let it play out, and everything will make sense to you.” He watches you look down at your hands once more. “I know I say this all the time but I mean it, especially now. You’ll only be able to figure this out only with time.”

You hate that your best friend makes sense. When you opened up about your hesitation regarding what you want with Jacob, Sunwoo and Changmin always told you that only time could tell you such. And you did listen to their advice—only to be led to a spot where you are now liking the one person you did not want to jeopardize your friendship with.

“Hey, I know that look,” Sunwoo snaps you out of your thoughts. “You need to stop thinking too hard about it, and just let yourself feel what you want to feel.”

“But I don’t want to ruin what I already have with Changmin just because I can’t figure out if these newfound feelings are genuine or just from me being lonely,” you counter.

Your hesitation is valid. Considering that these feelings you harbor are towards your best friend, the stakes seem higher. You do not want your own emotions to throw away years of friendship. So you hope that Sunwoo can give you the answer that will ease all your worries.

Your best friend bites the inside of his cheek as he stares you down. “Y/N, I’ll ask you this: Do you love him?” As your eyebrows shoot up at his sudden use of the ‘l’ term, he shakes his head. “I’m talking about in general—don’t think about the romantic or platonic bullshit.”

Of course, you do—you love your best friends for they have been with you for every achievement and hardship faced. The love you have for the three demons is something that can never be challenged. You are here because they are your reasons to keep on going, no matter how difficult the journey may be.

Although you give him a nod, he sighs. Confused by his reaction, you find yourself frowning. That is until he asks you another question. “Is the love that you feel for him the same type that you experience with me or Chanhee?” And just like that, you feel your breath hitch. The frown leaves your face as your eyes widen at the sudden question.

Sunwoo shows you a small smile. “I think you know your answer then.”

The second semester has commenced. Although you expect to find yourself sitting with your friends by the spot that you four sort of claim, you are sitting in Morning Roasters alone. The thing is you are waiting for someone in particular to come—the 5th-year who is not as unattainable as you thought would be.

You two were supposed to schedule another date as soon as the second semester came. Jacob actually messaged you first regarding your availability. But when you told him that you needed to have a sit down with him, he then knew that the date would have to wait.

When he comes into the cafe, your eyes lock with his. You expect to see that typical smile that he always flashes at you. But instead, he only shows you a small one—almost bittersweet. The moment he takes a seat on the chair across from you, you take a sip of your chai latte.

“Hi, Jacob,” you greet him with a small smile. “I’m sorry about this. I just need to talk to you about something before we plan anything.” The chuckle that leaves your mouth is awkward.

“It’s fine,” he voices out, finally showing you that sweet smile. “I don’t mind seeing you—with or without dates.” Guilt rips and tears every part of you.

You both know what is going to be said. If anything, his words are an indicator that he prepared for your news—one that will break his heart. You wish that it did not have to play out like this, but it would be unfair to you both if you kept going on these dates without being honest.

Sighing, you manage to start, “Jacob, I really like you.” You slip out an embarrassing chuckle which only makes him smile. “I remember the first time I met you was at that one meeting Kevin held for the Features staff. I was the new recruit, and I can remember how scared I was until my eyes landed on you.”

“You know, the aura you brought around is just so comforting, and I think that’s what made me drawn to you. I have always thought of you as the senior who I want to be around—to get to know more throughout my stay. And when I didn’t get that opportunity to work with you in my first year, I thought you would only remain that unattainable senior who would plague my mind with ‘what-ifs’.” Your eyes drift down to your hands that are folded on your lap.

“I can remember how much I talked about you to my best friends. I mean, not only were you kind but you’re an amazing writer. I hoped that by some miracle, I could work with you. And somehow, the universe listened.” You now look up to the boy who sits there with a small smile. “In my time working with you, I have enjoyed every interview, every section close, every unofficial date. And I got to know you more outside of the persona I’ve created in my mind.”

You have only said good things because Jacob is nothing but good. In your time knowing him, he has shown you genuineness and kindness. He is everything green—from the way he treats you to the way he handles every article with utmost care. The 5th-year is who you should desire, and yet, you cannot bring yourself to do so.

“To me, you are a friend who I know I can enjoy my time with, whether in silence or work. I know I can go to you when I need company at parties or even just for meals. But at the end of it all, you are still the senior who I idolize. And I think I confused the idea of love with admiration.” As soon as those words leave your mouth, you notice the way he looks down at his lap.

Now, the smiles are gone from both of your faces. This confrontation is everything but easy. No matter how much Jacob seems to like you, your initial impression of your sentiments played out differently. There is no way to force your feelings to play out differently, and you both knew that.

“I–I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I wanted to give this a shot by letting time do its wonders, but I think that it just proved that my feelings now won’t waver.”

Jacob nods before his eyes reach yours. “Not even a second date can change it?” You know it is his attempt to make a joke. But with a smile on your face, you shake your head. From your answer, he nods. “I guess I missed my chance.”

For a moment, silence settles between you two. The tunes of jazz continue to play out softly through the speakers scattered around the cafe. The two of you continue to look into each other’s eyes as you let the news settle.

That is until he decides to break it with a question. “Y/N, can I ask you something?” When you shoot him a nod, he asks, “Do you think you would have given us a shot when you were a first-year?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You have definitely thought about it—maybe you and Jacob would have had a chance if you worked together in your first year. And maybe you would have gone on more dates and eventually found yourself genuinely falling in love with the senior. What could have transpired between you two may have been a love story sweet like no other. But all these are just ‘what ifs’—that type of story playing out is not certain.

“I don’t know,” you find yourself admitting with your eyes now trailing down to the cup of chai latte that sits on the table. “I would like to think that it could’ve happened, but we’ll never know for sure.”

He lets out a sigh. For a while, he does not say anything. But when he asks the question “We can still be friends though, right?”, you quickly nod your head.

“Of course, Jacob. I value the friendship we’ve built.” You notice the smile that shows on his lips. “And it would be awkward if we break off ties since we work together.”

He laughs at what you say, shaking his head. “You’re right. And knowing Kevin, he’ll make us write together again.” He takes a moment to breathe. “I like writing with you, so I hope for more chances to have our bylines beside each other before I graduate.”

And you cannot help but feel heartache over his words. Jacob has only shown you nothing but tenderness. Even after shattering the possibility of you two ever being together, he still treats you with so much care. You know that it would be a privilege for anyone to be liked by Jacob—you are glad to say you got a taste of what it would be like to have a future with him.

“I do, too. I like working with you, and I’m glad that joining the publication helped me find my way to you.” As you say those words, you notice a bittersweet smile that paints his face.

Saying goodbye to a future that you fantasized about is difficult. You hate that all the scenarios you imagined of how it would be like to be loved by Jacob are ones you will never truly experience. Blame it on wrong timing or your confusion about what you think love may be—all you know is that a future with him is something you will not have.

It has been two weeks since you confronted Jacob. Despite how the events played out, you two surprisingly managed to interact without any awkwardness. It is not like you could say you went back to normal since your first interactions with him were when you still had a crush on him. But this new stage in your relationship is something you like for it feels natural like your other friendships.

Kevin held a meeting a few days ago to discuss the assignments for this semester. Now, you two are seated on one of the picnic tables as you try to work. Thankfully, the snow has melted away. While it is still cold, it is the type that you find yourself enjoying. You and Jacob were tasked to cover women’s sexual lifestyles in a patriarchal society. It is something you pitched, and you are happy to work on it with him.

“Okay! Welcome back, everyone! A new semester means a new set of articles to be assigned. Happy New Year, by the way.” Kevin shoots everyone in the room with a smile. “I love the story pitches! You guys keep improving, I’m impressed.”

It has been a week since you confronted Jacob. Despite how the events played out, you two surprisingly managed to interact without any awkwardness. It is not like you could say you went back to normal for your first interactions with him when you still had a crush on him. But this new stage in your relationship with him is something you like for it feels natural like your other friendships.

“Since it is, unfortunately, my last semester being your editor, I want to make the most of guiding you all. I’ll still be having you guys cover the topics I’ll be assigning, but I will now encourage you all to write opinion pieces. Not only that, I’ll be encouraging you to run for my position for the next year!” As he says those words, you cannot help but feel a heavy weight on your heart.

The semester has only started—how can you be pressured already? Before you can think more about your editor’s words, he snaps you out of your thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be giving you enough time to think it over. So for now, I’ll just assign your pitches.”

He clears his throat as he looks at his laptop. You do not pay attention to him listing out pitches assigned to other individuals who are part of your staff. That is only until he calls your name. “Y/N and Jacob will work on women’s sexual lifestyles amidst the patriarchal and conservative society. Along with that, you two will also cover drag queens found on campus.” When your eyes settle on Jacob, you do not miss his smile. You shoot him a grin before looking back at your editor whose eyes are still on his laptop screen.

“That should be it. Yay! Don’t forget to schedule your ICs with me since it is required. We’ll be talking about potential opinion article topics and your plans for the next school year.” And just like that, Kevin dismisses the meeting.

You let out a sigh as you scroll through the questions you and Jacob are working on. “Do you think these questions should be fine for Kevin to review?”

Jacob lets out a hum as he scrolls through the shared document on his laptop. “Yeah, I think we can rephrase this question though to focus more on the shame that comes with discussing or participating in premarital sex.” He looks at you. “What do you think about that?”

“Yeah, that should be good on my end,” you say as you watch his attempt to rephrase the question found on the document. As soon as he finishes, you shoot him a smile. “I think that’s good! We can have these reviewed by Kevin, and then we can meet with our interviewees at their preferred schedule.”

You quickly type out an email to Kevin and make sure you attach the document before sending it out. Once you get the notification stating it was successfully delivered, you smile at your laptop screen. The first hurdle is over with. You think you can take a moment to relax until you are hit with a question.

“Y/N, do you have an opinion piece in mind?” As soon as your co-writer asks you, you cannot help but let out a groan. Your eyes move from the screen to his face. You notice the way he tries to hold back his laugh from your reaction.

“I have no clue.” You prop your arm on the table and rest your chin on your hand, a pout forming on your lips. “Do you?” As soon as he nods, you cannot help but gasp. “What do you have?!”

He chuckles at your reaction. “It’s very rough, but I want to talk about my experience growing up in Korea. I thought now would be a perfect time to talk about being an immigrant.” You nod, signaling for him to continue. “I mean, it really is just my journey to finding that sense of belonging since I’m a Korean who grew up overseas. Thought it would be nice to look back and talk about the people I found a home in before I graduate.”

You smile at how he shares his ideas with you. The way he talks about this opinion piece shows how personal it is to him. You only knew a part of the immigrant experience (mainly from memoirs you have read or interviews you conducted). But you knew that it is different for everyone, so you were interested to hear what Jacob’s experience is like.

“It’s nice to know that you want to share that. I’m excited to read it when you start writing it,” you say with a smile.

“Well, it still needs to go under some approval from the rest of the editorial board, but Kevin sounds hopeful. He says he’s going to push for it since he’s technically an immigrant himself.” You nod over his words.

You were well aware that two boys came from Canada. While Jacob may have been born and raised in Toronto, Kevin moved to Vancouver at a young age. So when the pair came to Korea for high school, they found themselves lost in the sea of people who already knew each other. But the universe eventually brought them together. And with that, they sought comfort in each other due to their shared experiences.

You were glad to know that the two had each other. Although you will never understand the struggles that come with being an immigrant, you know that the two boys finding each other made every day easier.

While the Canadian boys rely on each other, your friend group had one another. That is the beauty that comes with friendships—it starts unexpectedly with a stranger only for them to become your person in the end.

“But going back, you don’t have anything you’re remotely interested in talking about?” Jacob asks you once more.

Sighing, you say, “I don’t know. You think I can talk about my obsession with Bluey?” The guy cannot help but laugh. “I’m serious! I have no clue what to say. Do you think Kevin would let me off without writing one?”

He hums for a moment. “I mean, he would let you not write but I think he would be bummed out.” You let out a groan as you cross your arms on the table and rest your chin on them. “He would never push you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You can only sigh as you look off into nowhere.

“I just know that I have nothing right now. Literally got no good ideas worthy of being published.” You stare at the leaves that slowly move with the wind. Spring is slowly coming; you notice it in the way that the trees and plants have started to gain color; flowers are slowly about to bud; you can feel the slight warmth of the sun despite the cold air.

When your eyes drift away from the trees, they end up landing on a boy who has only filled you with warmth. You cannot help but smile at the sight of him. A hoodie drowns his figure, making him look cuddlier than ever. As he slowly makes his way toward you, you notice that his nose is tinted red from the cold air. And as soon as he sees your grin, he cannot help but smile back.

You find yourself sitting up from your slouched position before he makes his way to the spot beside you. “Hi, Jacob hyung,” he greets the guy who sits across from you two. And just like that, you link your arm with his. You do not miss the way his eyes glance at you over the sudden action.

Your head finds its place on his shoulder as you let out a sigh. “Changmin, I’m in trouble.” His body moves slightly as he lets out a chuckle.

“What did you do now?”

You blow raspberries as you look at Jacob who watches you both. “Kevin is encouraging us to write opinion pieces and I have no clue what to write about.”

“Y/N wants to write about Bluey,” the 5th-year chimes in.

A gasp leaves your mouth, making you lift your head from Changmin’s shoulder. “How could you say that?! I wanted to tell him myself!” The boy beside you giggles.

“I was going to suggest writing about that too,” your best friend admits. “Or you can write about me.”

You shoot him a frown. “Oh, be so for real right now.”

“What? You can write about how you can’t live without me.” The innocent smile that is on his lips only makes you want to wipe it off his face. And you cannot help but smack his arm with your free hand. “Yah! Why are you hitting me? I’m just throwing out suggestions for you.” His reaction makes you burst into laughter, making you snuggle your face into the space between his neck and shoulder.

You two remain snuggled up—one complaining while the other laughing over nothing. These moments perfectly encapsulate the dynamic between you and Changmin; the bantering that comes from nowhere; the sudden laughter that leaves you two when nothing hilarious happens; and the way you two always seem to latch onto each other. And Jacob bears witness to it all.

As he observes the sight of you two in your own world, an ill feeling rises in his guts—almost as if it is bile. He has never seen you smile or laugh like that with anyone else but Changmin. It is not like you react the same way around Chanhee or Sunwoo (based on his limited interactions with them). With your ears that are tinted red and the smile on Changmin’s face that contrasts with his complaints, Jacob cannot help but bite the inside of his cheek.

Everything starts to make sense to him—the two of you had unexpectedly crossed the platonic boundary that was drawn out. And now, you two were swimming in uncharted territories of adoration.

A part of him wants to laugh. Back then, he was convinced that something was going on between you and Changmin. Even if Kevin was insistent in convincing him that you two are just friends, he never knew if he could fully believe his best friend’s words. Blame it on insecurities or disbelief—it was just his way of protecting himself from the inevitable.

“I should get going,” he says as he shuts his laptop close. You lift your head from Changmin’s shoulder with eyes wide. “Kevin needs me to meet with him.” The lie leaves his mouth easily, and you and your best friend fall for it.

“Oh, okay! Maybe you can also tell Kevin we’ve emailed him the questions and the possible outline of the article already?” He nods at your words. And when you shoot him such an innocent smile, he cannot help but feel his resolve falter for a second.

When he stands up from his seat and carries his laptop and bag, you and your best friend bid him farewell. He turns away from the sight of you two and walks away with a heart heavier than ever.

As much as he hates to admit it, he still finds himself entertaining a possible future with you. Who can blame him? In his fantasies, he can feel your arms wrap around his waist as he cooks you a meal. You two would sway while he hums melodies. And you would litter kisses all over as he whispers sweet nothings.

But all of this is make-believe—he knows he does not stand a chance against your best friend who has permanently carved his place in your heart. It pains him to know that Changmin is a good guy; there will be no good reason to hate him. But with time, maybe he can come to terms that you will share your future with your best friend. For now, he will let himself wallow in bitter jealousy.

It is 3:34 PM. It has been two weeks since you complained to Jacob and Changmin about having no topic for an opinion piece. Over the weeks, you and Jacob were able to conduct interviews and gather the necessary information. After talking to the women who shared their accounts on sex amidst conservative Korea, you two wanted the piece to turn out well—capturing their experiences and sending out a message that will have people reconsider what they believe to be right or wrong.

Now, you are seated across from Chanhee by your friend group’s informal hideout. While he edits his photos, you transcribe away.

Although you two hang out with each other while working on newspaper matters, you have no idea what has been going on in your best friend’s life. To be fair, his schedule has always been the busiest out of everyone in the friend group. Being a photographer means he has to be present for almost every event or coverage.

Chanhee is your lowest-maintenance friend. In contrast to what you have with Changmin, you two could go on for weeks without having to talk to each other. Although you would occasionally pass by each other due to publication work, there are not a lot of instances to sit down and talk.

And you did not mind the distance—you were comfortable with the low-maintenance friendship for you two had your own priorities. What helps is that you both came from the publication, so you and Chanhee are aware of how difficult it can be to spare time in the day.

Being behind on what goes on in each other’s lives is not a sin. While some friendships like to see each other as much as possible (like you and Changmin) or be updated on everything (like you and Sunwoo), some could survive without constant updates or interactions. And that is the beauty of friendships—they operate so differently yet so similarly. Your relationships with the three boys may be distinct, but the love you all share is still the same.

But of course, your low-maintenance friendship does not mean that you do not want to update him about everything. If anything, the distance does make your heartfelt interactions more sentimental. So when you found yourself stopping the recording, you knew that you wanted to tell him about your revelation over the winter break.

You remove your headphones and hang them around your neck. “Chanhee.” The boy lets out a hum of curiosity before looking up from his laptop.

“Yeah?”

You take a moment to ponder over how to articulate your thoughts. And when you try to let the words come out, you feel them get stuck in your throat. “God, never mind.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head before saying, “We’re both preoccupied with work, so I think it can wait.” You are met with Chanhee’s frown before he quickly types away and shuts his laptop.

“We can take a break. I want to hear what’s on your mind,” he says with a small smile. As he sees your pout, he sighs. “I’m serious. We haven’t sat down and talked in a while, so I kind of miss knowing what goes on in your life with Mr. Bae.”

The nervous chuckle you let out has your best friend taken back. “Yeah, about that…” You trail off as you scratch the back of your neck. “I am not going on a second date.”

“You aren’t?” When you shake your head, a pout forms on his lips. “What’s wrong? Not that great of a guy?”

A sigh leaves your mouth. “No, he’s great! Actually, the date we had was so sweet; we baked a cake together.”

“No way!” Chanhee gasps. “Where did this even happen?”

“Jacob always goes to this bakery run by this cute couple, and he’s close enough with them to let us use their kitchen.” You smile to yourself as your eyes trail down to your keyboard. “It was a cute first date to go on. But,” your eyes go back to Chanhee. “I don’t like him in that way.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he reaches out for your hand and holds onto it. “That’s okay. Sometimes, people are just meant to stay as crushes. You don’t have to pursue them if you don’t want to—let alone if you aren’t ready for a relationship.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Chanhee, there’s a bigger reason why I wanted to talk to you about this.” The way his eyebrows furrow in worry has you shooting him a bittersweet smile.

When you try to speak, you can feel the words hitching at your throat. Your best friend notices your hesitancy, making him caress your hand in a way that would allow him to stroke it in circular motions. And when you watch the way he shows you a comforting smile, you let your eyes close as you take a deep breath.

“I think I like Changmin.”

Despite your news, your best friend does not stop holding your hand. Your eyes open to see the sight of him still showing the same smile. And when he slowly nods, you feel your bottom lip quiver. Such a simple action should not speak a thousand words, but it is a hidden action reserved for you two—one that says, “I know, I have always known.”

And just like that, the waterworks turn on. The tears roll down your cheeks as Chanhee holds onto your hand. You never wanted to cry, but something about this moment had you vulnerable about something you have not stopped thinking about.

“How long have you known?” The question comes out like a whisper. You are afraid to hear his answer because it might change what you have always thought about your friendship with Changmin.

Chanhee lets his eyes trail down to your linked hands. “I think since the first time I saw you two interact,” he starts off. “When you introduced me to Sunwoo and Changmin for the first time, I thought that there was something special about you and my roommate.” His eyes then look back at yours, and his free hand reaches out to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “It’s not that I have always known that you liked him, but I think what you have with him is like no other relationship.”

You cannot help but pout at his answer. “Is what I have with him not friendship?”

“No, it is,” he smiles at you as he wipes away one more tear. “It’s friendship, a beautiful one to begin with. But I also think it has always been more than that—something that you and Changmin were too blind to see.” His hand leaves your face and goes back to holding your hand. “And it’s not like it’s wrong, for you and him are the only ones who can define what you two have. I think you might finally be realizing that what you wanted was right in front of you all along.”

It is supposed to sound corny—Changmin being the person you wanted all along. But you hate to admit that Chanhee is right. Maybe that is why you have gone on with your life not particularly bothered by your lackluster love life (although it made you wonder if you would ever be desirable enough for anyone, really). The love you feel from your friends is enough to remind you of your worth. But the one Changmin made you feel is enough to push mountains and change seasons.

The birds start to chipper; the sun glows on you and Chanhee; the air smells of flowers. Despite the tears you shed just minutes ago, the world still moves as if it sings out the words, “Spring has come!” It is as if the universe echoed the message you found yourself reaching at the end of your conversation with Chanhee—there is no reason to be afraid of falling in love with your best friend for he is everything you hope for.

It is 2:27 PM when you meet with Kevin in the publication room. You and Jacob officially wrapped up your article a few days ago. With minimal comments from your editor, you both were happy with the output.

In the publication room, there is a small room where the different clusters usually hold meetings. You swing its door open to see Kevin seated with his laptop out. He looks up at you and shoots you a smile. “Y/N! Nice to see you on time for our consultation.”

You take a seat across from your editor. “Hi, Kevin,” you greet him with a small smile.

“I’m sure you already know what this is for. But just for formality's sake, thank you for having this individual consultation with me.” He claps his hands in joy. “Today, I’ll be talking with you regarding next year’s editor position and your opinion article.”

You scratch the back of your neck before saying, “I am not going to lie, I am not considering running for Features editor.”

Kevin shows you a smile, almost as if he expected your response. “Okay, let’s talk about it. Why did you decide that?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think there’s just so much more for me to learn.” When he signals you to continue, you let out a small sigh. “I mean, I don’t think I’m suited for the position with my current skill set. There’s still so much I can learn!”

Your editor sighs as he moves his laptop aside. “I know we had this conversation back when you were still a 1st-year. Do you remember it?”

Of course, you remember that conversation vividly. When Kevin first approached you regarding your interest in taking over his spot after he graduates, you remember how insistent you were in denying it.

“Kevin, I don’t think you should be asking me about this,” you say with a small smile. “I mean, I have only gotten into the groove of writing for the uni’s paper just this year. I don’t think I am the best option to consider.”

Your editor pouts and says, “That’s not true. You are a perfectly good candidate to take over when I graduate. You’re a skilled writer with a good eye for topics to unravel.”

You shake your head. “I still think there is room for improvement when it comes to writing. And right now, I don’t have the capabilities to handle the duties and responsibilities that come with being an editor.”

It is one thing to be a good student journalist—being an editor is a different case. There comes a responsibility to ensure that everything goes in order. Not only that, you become someone the staff and the rest of the editorial board can trust. The idea of it all is anxiety-inducing, and now may not be the best time to consider it given that you are still adjusting.

“I really appreciate you for considering me, but I think that I still need to learn and grow as a writer before considering that responsibility.” As you say those words, your editor can only nod.

“Okay, I understand where this is coming from,” Kevin sighs. “I once was in your position when my old editor, Sangyeon, asked me that during my first year in the publication. I denied it, just like you, and kept explaining that my journey as a writer cannot end yet. But Sangyeon kept saying that running for the position would bring challenges that I need to face as a writer.”

For a moment, you think over his words. But before you can say anything, he continues, “You never stop writing and growing—think of it as a way to take up more challenges that will force you to think critically, to think of solutions, to really test you. And if it helps, you won’t be handling it alone because you have the rest of the board to rely on!”

Kevin raised really good points. Taking up an editor position would allow you to gauge if your future does lie in journalism after all; it would allow you to learn before entering the workforce. But now, you do not think you are capable of handling it.

“I can at least think about it,” you start off. “I have one full school year to think about it. But for now, I am not planning to run.”

Your editor smiles and says, “That’s better than an immediate no.”

You let out a sigh. “Yes, I remember. But I still think that I need to work under someone’s guidance. I don’t think I am suited for the editor position.”

For a moment, he does not say anything as he thinks over your words. Before you can add any more excuses, he interjects, “Y/N, I will tell you this—I think you have learned as much as you can as a writer. During my years being your editor, I think that the growth you’re looking for comes with applying for a position on the editorial board.”

You cannot help but pout at his reality check, but you know he was right. “I know you’re considering a job in journalism, so I think this would be a good opportunity to at least prepare you for it outside of your internships.” Kevin shows you a small smile. “You still have a few months to consider since applications start around the latter half of the semester.”

When you simply nod, he lets out a small sigh. “Y/N, I just want you to know that you are very capable of being an editor—that you are destined for greatness” You cannot help but smile at his praise. “I understand that it is scary because of the responsibilities, but it is worth the experience.”

The best thing about Kevin is that he has always looked out for you. Even in your first year in the publication, he always made it a point to look out for every member of his staff. Whether it would be writing issues or mental health concerns, he would find a way to help. Now that he attempts to possibly hand you the position (if no one else runs for it), reality is starting to hit that you would not be under his care.

“Kevin, I’m going to miss you,” you say with a pout.

He shakes his head as he slightly rolls his eyes. “Okay, we are not having that sappy talk. Reserve it for the last meeting.” You cannot help but chuckle. “But going back, let’s talk about your opinion article.”

Your pout contrasts his smile. “I have no clue what to write about.” A sigh leaves your lips. “Like, I’ve talked to Jacob and I’m still hit with absolutely nothing.”

Kevin chuckles at the way you complain before saying, “I get it. Sometimes, thinking about a topic you’re passionate about is hard considering the character limit implemented.” You nod at his words. “Okay, so maybe we can start with your life, you know. Why don’t you guide me through the years?”

With that, you let out a sigh as you recall your years growing up. “Well, school was school. I was your average student. I can’t recall too much about the super early years, but I do remember grade school being the period I was exploring a lot of hobbies.” You hum for a moment. “Oh! I also met Sunwoo that time because we were seatmates.”

Your editor smiles. “Ah, Sunwoo! I’m surprised, you know? Not a lot of people can say they’re still best friends with their childhood friends.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “We were always seatmates for some reason, so the proximity forced us to interact. I can remember how passionate he was about soccer, which I guess started my journey exploring different activities. I mean, something about his passion made me want to experience the same thing.”

For a child like you, seeing someone with so much enjoyment from participating in an activity feels revolutionary. The determination your best friend had to succeed in every soccer practice or tournament made you imagine the feeling that comes from hard work being paid off. It is something you want to experience.

“So, I ended up going through different hobbies like drawing, playing instruments, and even doing sports. But when I was forced to read a book, I somehow picked up writing as my hobby.” You shake your head at the memory as you look down at your lap. “Funnily enough, I remember hating reading and writing in my early years only until I started reading this one fantasy series. I was just so fascinated with these worlds, and I thought I could do it myself.”

The only reason why you were forced to read was because your English teacher warned your parents about your grades in the said subject. With that, you were handed a book to read. Although the first few pages seemed like a chore to get through, you eventually found yourself being invested in the said book. You ended up asking your parents to buy you the whole series before you knew it.

“Although I tried to do creative writing bullshit, it never worked out for me. I don’t know, I just don’t think I was capable of building such grand narratives. But reading books did start my love for academic writing, oddly enough,” you say as your eyes trail back up to Kevin who sits and listens to your story. “I remember it reached a point where I would join competitions for essays and whatnot.”

You let out a hum as you took a brief look up to the ceiling. “I think it was at a competition where I first found out about Feature writing since it was a big event with other writers of different age groups. I can remember when I first told Sunwoo about my interest in it, and he was so supportive.” Kevin nods along with a smile, showing that he is keeping up with your story.

“It felt so nice to be supported by my best friend in a craft that I had no experience in, you know? So when high school came, I applied for my school’s newspaper team and Sunwoo decided to try dancing for something different. And these crafts brought us to Changmin.”

A smile starts to creep on your face as you remember your entire high school life with the two. And Kevin cannot help but feel his heart warm at the sight of you reminiscing the years spent with the two boys.

“Did you know I used to be intimidated by Changmin?” As soon as you ask that question, your editor cannot help but laugh.

“Are you serious?” The nod you give has him laughing. “But, he’s so baby! How are you scared of him?”

You roll your eyes and say, “I swear, he was intimidating. I think the way he presented himself in high school made me scared of him. And I remember when Sunwoo introduced me to him for the first time. Our interactions felt so awkward mainly because we never talked, and I thought I would only have to see him whenever Sunwoo dragged him along. So when I got accepted into the publication, I was not expecting to see Changmin as a photographer.”

You cross your arms as you lean back in your chair. “Then we somehow got paired together which eventually started our friendship,” you say with a grin. “And with the many instances working together, Changmin and I grew so much closer.” Kevin nods along.

Before you could share more, another thought appeared in your mind. “Oh, god. Back then, I used to have a crush on Sunwoo for a while.” You notice the shock that appears on your editor’s face. “I know, it was weird, but I would talk to Changmin about it. Now, they won’t get off my ass.” You roll your eyes while shaking your head.

“But I can vividly remember that while these guys seemed to have love lives, I didn’t. And you know, it used to bother me because I was the type to always jump from different crushes but never actually have something go past the infatuation stage. But they have always been the people to listen to my lovesick rambles.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I appreciate them so much because they never made me feel lonely, you know? Even if I never went on dates or experienced the high school love that the two got, they always made sure to keep me company.”

Kevin hums as he nods. “No, I get it. Like, their love is enough, you know?”

“Yeah!” You smile at how he understands what you are trying to say. “Like, they do so much for me despite how much we tend to rile each other up. And I remember how the two took me on this date a few days after Sunwoo’s first date.” You sigh at the memory with a small smile.

“And when Changmin left for college, I remember how devastated we were,” you say as your smile slowly starts to drop. “Weirdly enough, his absence left a huge hole in my heart. It wasn’t easy to contact him because of different schedules and obligations. So when Sunwoo and I finally graduated, we were so happy to see him again.”

When your eyes land back on Kevin, you notice that he remains attentive to your story. “I think that experience taught us that we did rely on each other, but we needed to find a way to coexist without it being too codependent.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” he interrupts. “The distance revealed that your friendship was turning into codependency which started to reach toxic levels.” You nod. “Yeah, Jacob and I went through the same thing—our friendship became too interdependent which prevented us from growing.”

You let out a hum. “Yeah, exactly that. So when we entered university, we made this collective agreement to let our relationship flourish into a healthier one. It was a long process until Chanhee came into the picture.” As you mention his name, Kevin cannot help but smile.

“After entering the publication and getting to work with Chanhee for my first few coverages, I thought it would be nice to introduce him to Changmin and Sunwoo. And I think it was only then we realized that the group was incomplete until he came in,” you say as you rest your arms on the table. “And I just think our group has evolved into one that I would never trade for the world. I think I was able to grow with them while witnessing their growth as well.”

When you see Kevin nod, you cannot help but sigh. “Sorry, I went on a tangent. But yeah, other than applying for this publication, working with you and Jacob, I guess that’s all that really went on with my life.”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s fine, I liked hearing the story of you four getting together.” You show him a small smile. “I think you have your opinion piece, you know? I think your whole story is a reflection of how strong platonic love is.” As soon as your head tilts to the side, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Your story shows how much you and your group were able to grow through the love and care you fostered. And in your case, their love is enough to a point you were able to remain unbothered by your lackluster love life.”

And it is true—your friends are the reason why you never find yourself lonely in a world that seems to glamorize romantic love. You cannot deny that you still long to experience it, but your friends have shown you love that is more than enough.

“Yeah, I think I can write about that. I realize how much I love to talk about my friends, so I think writing about them would be nice,” you say as you find yourself slowly nodding. “I think their love has put me in a comfortable spot where I don’t feel the need to constantly seek out the romantic love people always talk about. And even if it would still be nice to experience it, I don’t think I’m in a rush to find it. I experience enough love in my friendships.”

Your editor nods with a smile on his face. “It’s a nice topic, and I really think it would resonate with a lot of people. I think we put so much importance on experiencing romantic love, but I think all forms of love should coexist—one should never have more importance over the other.”

And you nod along with his words. That is what you appreciate about Kevin—he always knew the right words to say and made sure to relate to your sentiments. In your time working under his care, you never once felt misunderstood by him because he listened.

“Is it weird to say that I have learned about love through them?” When the question leaves your mouth, he shakes his head. “I guess because I have never gone on dates or experienced that high school romance then, everything I know about love is because of what they showed me.”

He cannot help but smile. “I think it’s nice that they taught you so much about love by showering you with it. And in your story, they don’t give you too much love that makes it suffocating.”

Kevin is right. Through your friendships, there have never been any notable instances where the love you receive from Changmin, Sunwoo, and Chanhee reached a point of toxic levels. Despite the codependency issue that only revealed itself when your best friend moved away for university, the love that they have shown you throughout the years is nothing but pure—one that comes in the form of supporting each person’s independence while fostering an environment of vulnerability.

“You really do love your friends,” your editor quietly points out.

You find yourself nodding with a smile on your face. “I appreciate those three because they’re my reasons to keep on going.”

No matter how wounded your knees may get, how tired your eyes may be, or how bruised your heart may get, you always find yourself continuing to go on thanks to them. The love and support they give you is a reason enough for you to continue on such a difficult journey that everyone is bound off to. What makes it all comforting is that you know you are never alone in this expedition called life—you were traveling with your friends after all.

It is 6:23 PM. You find yourself seated on the floor of the dance studio as you attempt to write your papers all while your best friend practices a routine he choreographed for the year-end concert. These were moments you found yourself enjoying—you two would work on your own obligations while still accompanying each other. Not only did it hold you accountable to get work done but it made you feel less lonely.

Your brain was preoccupied with what Kevin told you a few hours ago. There is a lot to consider—both when it comes to your opinion piece and the Features editor position. Are you capable of writing such a personal piece that everyone could still enjoy reading? Could you even handle the responsibilities that come with being an editor? Did you have it within yourself to balance your priorities?

With all these thoughts, you cannot help but let out a frustrated sigh. Your opened document is filled with nonsensical phrases and unfinished thoughts. Clearly, you were not in the headspace to work.

Your eyes leave your laptop screen and land on Changmin who goes through his routine slowly, trying to perfect every move. Every time you watch him dance, your heart aches—a type of ache that can only be described as how proud you are of your best friend. The passion he emits is almost like the one you were first introduced to by Sunwoo when it came to soccer.

As if he feels your eyes on him, his eyes drift away from his reflection in the mirror towards you. He notices the frown that rests on your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” A laugh follows his question.

“I cannot get any work done,” you say with a sigh. “I feel like I’m so out of it and it’s still so early in the day.”

Your best friend rolls his eyes as he walks to you. He crouches in front of you and says, “It’s 6 PM; it is not that early. Plus, didn’t you come from a meeting with Kevin?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at him. Painfully aware of your newfound (or pushed down for years) feelings, you cannot help but feel conscious around him at times. Being under his stare made your insides mush together.

“Yeah,” you whisper out. You clear your throat as your eyes look back down at the screen. “It was a weird meeting if I’m going to be honest.”

In your peripheral vision, you can see him tilt his face to the side. You expect him to ask you about it. But when his hands grab onto your laptop, you look up with a frown. “Hey!” He sets it aside before standing up.

With his hand out for you to reach, he says, “Come on, I think you need to take a break.” Your frown remains on your face as you grab onto his hand, tugging on it so that you can stand up. He keeps your hand in his as he drags you to where he was practicing.

The two of you stand in front of a mirror. Once he lets go of your hand, he smiles at you by staring at your reflection. “You know, all the years we’ve been friends and I’ve never seen you dance.” The moment he says this has you almost bolting away. And before you could do so, he grabbed onto your arm.

“Changmin! I am not going to dance in front of you—let alone with you,” you exclaim as the boy keeps you in place. In contrast to your frown, your best friend grins as he moves to stand behind you, his hands now holding onto your forearms.

He peeks from your shoulder and says, “It’ll be fun! And I’ll be guiding you through it.” You only glare at him through the mirror. “C’mon! I won’t judge you at all.”

“Oh, be so for real! I’ve danced in front of Sunwoo before and he couldn’t keep a straight face. What makes you think you won’t laugh?”

He gasps. “See, now you need to let me see you dance!” The whine you let out does not do anything to stop his insistence. “When did you even dance in front of him?”

“I’m pretty sure he walked in on me trying to do a Wonder Girls choreo.” You roll your eyes at the memory. “I am never doing that again.”

“What choreo?” He asks as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Is it “Tell Me”?” As soon as you nod, he gasps. “That’s easy! I’m sure I can teach you right now.”

“I am not doing that! I’m too shy.”

He chuckles as he raises his chin from your shoulder. “It’s just me—there’s no need to be shy around me.” His words make your knees weak. Something about this moment has you shrinking; his hands on your forearms; the attention on you; the distance between you two.

But something about this shared moment also has your heartstrings tugging; his grin that can light up any room; his playful tone that shows how excited he is; and his determination to get your mind off what is bothering you. You almost cannot help but show a small smile. And with a sigh, you end up nodding at his request.

The two of you spend your time going through the choreography of that song, specifically the pre-chorus and chorus, with Changmin having to show and help you in every move. Although you notice the smile on his lips every time you make an awkward move, he never once burst into laughter—just occasional chuckles. And surprisingly, you enjoyed learning it under his care.

Now, you two sat on the floor. As your best friend takes a break from dancing, your eyes stare into the opened document for one of your classes. Once you attempt to write, you can feel yourself being hit with anxieties that kept you from working in the first place.

You hate being under the spotlight. Most of the time, you find yourself uncomfortable with receiving too much attention. That is why when you found Features writing, it felt perfect for you. The hobby-turned-possible-career keeps you comfortable because you can write about people’s narratives—ones worth sharing with the world. So when you now have to consider representing a staff and being part of the faces of the editorial board, you can feel all eyes on you.

At this point, you are frustrated with your inability to get work done. The sigh you let out as you type away some gibberish has your best friend looking at you with concerned eyes. But before he could say anything, you looked away from your laptop to stare at him. When you see his worried expression, you cannot help but show him a bittersweet smile.

“I don’t know what to do,” you start. Silence settles between you two for a moment, and you realize that he is giving you time to continue. “I–fuck,” you trip over your words. A chuckle leaves your mouth as you turn your head back to face your laptop. You take a moment to breathe, collecting your thoughts.

“Kevin wants me to consider running for the Features editor position.” When you do not hear your best friend interject, you decide to continue. “He actually asked me last year to consider in the case he decides to not renew his position as editor. But now that he’s going to graduate, he brought it up again. He says it would be a good opportunity for me to get a feel of the higher stakes in this field, and that it would help me consider if I will pursue journalism as a career.”

You let out a sigh before taking a look at the boy who sits beside you. “I first told him no. I think I still need to learn more about being a writer, but he says that the growth I seek comes from applying for higher positions.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Changmin, I don’t think I’m ready for such responsibilities. You know how much I hate being put under the spotlight, so being an editor would mean I represent my staff and become a face that people link with the publication.” After saying those words, you rip your gaze away from your best friend and stare up at the ceiling. “And what happens if I’m not a good editor to begin with? Being a writer is entirely different from being an editor.”

You feel his hand reach out to yours, holding it and drawing circles at the back of your hand with his thumb. The action makes you close your eyes. Although you do not crave physical touch, something about Changmin doing it to you has you wanting more—maybe it is because you know it as his love language.

“And I think a part of me is scared to become an editor and learning that I hate it after all.” Your eyes open before you turn your head back to him whose eyes are still filled with concern. “Don’t you ever get scared that what you enjoy doing now can be something you grow resentful of?”

When you have gone on with your life with one hobby you have invested so much time in, it seems impossible to ever imagine a future without it. That is what you feel when it comes to writing—a craft that you feel yourself enjoying while still being challenged. But you can almost feel the hands of fear consume you when you imagine the ‘what-ifs’ that come with taking up a position that is different from your usual.

And from how unfamiliar it is, anxiety fills you. Who can say you would be a good editor? What would happen if you fail to keep up with your duties? Is there a reality where you will be burnt out from Features writing?

But when you see your best friend flash you a comforting smile, it feels easier to let such questions go. “Of course, I feel scared,” he starts off. He rips his gaze away from you and stares off into nowhere. “I remember when I first applied for university, choosing a course was the hardest decision for me. I was forced to think of how I wanted my future to turn out because I thought my course dictated the career I ended up in.”

It is true. You remember the first time Changmin was applying to different universities. Without a clear vision of what he wanted to do in the future, he struggled to decide on a list of courses. During that period, you and Sunwoo could only do so much to help him out. But at the end of it all, he appreciates you two for listening to him when he needed it.

“You already know that I had different first-choice courses for the universities I applied for. My list of courses per college was different as well.” He brings your linked hands to his lap and looks down at it. “And I can remember how confused my parents were by that, but I just cared about what I found myself enjoying.” He lets out a sigh before laughing, “I don’t know if it was the smartest decision on my end.”

You cannot help but chuckle along with him. “Even I questioned your decisions,” you admit. Your best friend shakes his head before looking at you. “I think from my perspective, it looked like you didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, and I really didn’t,” he tells you. “I mean, the difference between you and me is that while you found yourself set on journalism and just general communication tracks, I was still figuring out what I wanted to do in the future.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as he reveals that to you. It is not like he shared with you new information for you both were aware of it. And it is not your fault that you felt more confident in what the future had in store for you as a 1st-year in high school versus your best friend who is a 3rd-year. The reality is that Changmin was envious of you—you felt so sure of yourself in your hobby. In contrast to you, he could never consider dance as a possible career to pursue.

When he sees the slight shift in your expression, he shows you a small smile. “It’s not your fault. It’s just me being unsure of what I wanted to do.” He takes a moment to recollect his thoughts. “But really, I chose my courses based on how much I enjoyed or found myself interested in them. And I found myself here.” He lets his eyes drift back down to his hand that holds yours.

“Oddly enough, I don’t see myself in any other course. No matter how much I questioned what I was doing in Early Childhood Education, I also found myself entertaining the idea of how nice it would be to explore the careers that come out of it.” He smiles to himself and says, “And I only figured out by my second year that I don’t have to pursue careers like counselor or teacher. I could still do jobs like HR or anything related to science if I wanted to.”

His eyes then drift back towards you. “It will always be a struggle, you know? You’ll never be sure if what you first thought entering university is something you’ll end up pursuing in the end. For me, I came here with an unclear vision of what I wanted to do as a career. And although I still wish I could do photography or dance, I’m actually really happy with being a preschool teacher in the end.”

You cannot help but smile at him. “I’m happy for you. You know that, right?” When the question leaves your mouth, he nods.

“Of course, I do. You never fail to remind me that,” he says. “I may not know where you entirely come from, but I understand the fear. I mean, even I feel like that with dance. But I think all that matters is that I enjoy it now.”

For a moment, silence settles on you two. Your brain is rattled with thoughts of whether or not you are capable of being an editor. But before you can say anything, your best friend interjects. “I think it’s worth giving it a shot, you know? That editor position that Kevin brought up to you.”

You cannot help but show a small frown. “I get that you’re scared to take up the responsibility of being one, but I think the experience really is something else. After all, you’re still in university—it’s the perfect time to take these positions up and explore.” You feel the frown leave your face as he shares that advice. “And you won’t be carrying the burden alone. You have the other editors to rely on.”

He shoots you a smile and says, “You are a talented writer, to begin with—I’m sure that you’ll do great as an editor. After all, I always root for you and your success.” And his words have your heart melting.

Your eyes drift down to your linked hands. Somehow, Changmin knew the ways to comfort you. Although he may not have the answer you seek at all times, he still did his best to listen and connect with you. And every day, you are thankful for him—he eases your anxieties while still building you up.

“Thank you,” you whisper out before looking back up to him. “I think I owe everything to you.”

Your best friend shakes his head and says, “You don’t owe me anything. What are you even saying?” He chuckles as he brings your linked hands closer to him, making you fall on his side. With that, your head rests on his shoulder. “We’re friends—I’d do anything for you willingly.”

The sentence may sound sad, being referred to as a friend by your crush. But the reality is that it fills you with warmth. Because no matter what feelings you harbor for him, the love he shows you is like no other. You can only hope it stays this way.

The weeks have passed since you last had your conversation with Kevin. Somehow, your topic got approved by the rest of the editorial board—it seemed like what you are writing about is relevant after all. Thankfully, you have until the start of editorial board application season to submit the finished opinion piece. You decided against letting your friend group know about your involvement in writing an opinion article just so you could surprise them.

Now, you and Jacob were officially in the last stages of wrapping up your last article with him. It is sad to know that after this, there would be no more pieces to be written with the 5th-year. It is funny to remember how much you wanted to work with him during your first year, so to finally finish up your last article with him is bittersweet.

“I can’t believe this is our last article where our bylines will be beside each other,” you say as you let your eyes drift from your laptop to the boy who sits across from you.

Jacob lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “I know, I can’t believe time has been moving so fast.”

It did feel weird that time suddenly trickles down faster when you find yourself enjoying the moments life presents you. You wish you could control it all—freeze the periods you wish to keep while fast-forwarding ones you hate to go through. But what makes these moments precious is that they do not last forever.

“Have you figured out your opinion piece article?”

You show him a small smile once you add the final touches to the article you two worked on. “Yeah, I’m going to write about my friends.” Jacob cannot help but let out an “awe” at your reveal.

You chuckle before saying, “I have gone through my life not being able to experience the joys of romance in my high school, and it bothered me at first. Back then, I used to think I was undesirable or that I was made only to work.” Then you cannot help but smile to yourself as your eyes drift back down to the laptop screen. “But I think my friends have shown me love greater than what I could ever imagine. I’m okay if I never get to go on multiple dates or bring butterflies to someone’s stomach. Right now, I’m comfortable just where I am.”

As you say those words, your brain cannot help but drift to the thought of Changmin, your best friend whom you love. You would think that such a word is reserved for later stages in a relationship, but the reality is that you always will love him—even if he may remain your best friend.

So you look back up to Jacob and say, “And I think that if life decides to bring that change to me, I’ll gladly accept it.”

The boy who sits across you nods at your words, a small smile on his lips. “Can I ask you something personal?”

You cannot help but frown for a moment. “Sure,” you say as you tilt your head to the side.

“It’s Changmin, right?” Your frown gets deeper, more confused than ever. “He’s the one you love?” As soon as he says those words, your eyes widen.

“How did you figure that out?”

He shakes his head and says, “I think it’s obvious to everyone.” You cannot help but pout at him. “I mean, I can see that Sunwoo and Chanhee have taught you love in their own ways. But I think that Changmin has shown you one that can never be forgotten.”

And your heart cannot help but ache at his words because he is right. In your years growing up, every act that Changmin has done for you is out of genuine care for your wellbeing. No matter all the times he may tease you, he always looks out for you even if you do not ask. At the same time, he supports you in your endeavors even if you may not have experience. And most importantly, he hears you out the most.

Your relationship with him is built out of genuine care for each other. What started as just having a mutual friend turned into workmates and eventually led you two to become friends. And in your years of being friends with him, all he has done is show you love. You may never be able to trace when you two started to cross the boundaries of friendship, but all that matters is that you have each other.

So you whisper out the words, “Yeah, it’s him.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “Is it wrong to be in love with him?” You do not miss the way Jacob frowns. “I mean, I was scared that I was mistaking platonic love for him as a romantic one, you know? You mentioned before how hard it can be to distinguish that.”

His frown leaves his face. As he shakes his head, he shows you a smile. “You know, you two have so much love and care for each other. And funnily enough, there are some romantic relationships I know that do not compare to what I’ve seen between you two.” As he says those words, you feel your heartstrings tug. “I guess the only thing I can ask is this: Is what you feel for Changmin different from what you feel towards Sunwoo and Chanhee?”

It is the same question Sunwoo asked you when you brought it up to him. After your conversations with Chanhee and Kevin (and your ongoing one with Jacob), you expect your answer to change. But the reality is that your answer remains the same. So when you nod, Jacob nods along.

“Then what others say doesn’t matter. At the end of it all, what you two have is special.”

You cannot help but show him a bittersweet smile. It feels almost wrong to share this with him after breaking things off with him. But you like to think that over the weeks, you and Jacob have managed to move past that.

Before you know it, Jacob lets out a sigh. “I think that’s it for this article. We’ve addressed all the comments from the editor-in-chief.” And just like that, you cannot help but feel heartache.

The finale has officially come. You did not want it to end, and the boy who sits across you can see it from your expression. “You know, Y/N, we’re still friends. Just because we aren’t working together means that we have to stop spending time together.” You cannot help but pout. “Plus, you might end up interning at the place I work at—that’s if you still decide to pursue journalism.”

You cannot help but chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.”

For a moment, silence settles between you two. As you two sit, you cannot help but let your mind drift back to when you first joined the publication. At first glance, you found yourself crushing on Jacob. And after reading his articles, you remember how much you wished to work with him. Oh, how you wish you could tell your past self that most of their dreams came true.

With that, you let out a sigh. “I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ve always wanted to work with you. It wasn’t entirely because I had a crush on you but I just loved the articles you put out.”

He shows you that grin—the same one you first found yourself melting at. Now, it is just a sight that you allow yourself to smile at. “I’m really glad I got to work with you. Even if it happened in my last year, I think you’ll be one of my memorable writing partners.” You cannot help but grin back at him. “Even for just some articles, I’m glad we had our bylines beside each other.”

The funny thing is that you are glad that your crush on him sort of brought you closer to him. If it were not for Sunwoo telling your editor about your crush on the 5th-year, you may not have ever received the opportunity to work with him. You learned more about the boy you admired from afar during your time working with him. And somehow, it resulted in him harboring similar feelings towards you. Although you two only got one date from it all, you are glad to still have each other.

A month has passed, and the broadsheets have started circulating in the university. To your surprise, the article you and Jacob worked on women’s sexuality ended up on the cover. You were happy to see that such a narrative would reach many people.

Since you two wrapped up your article on drag queens, there was not enough time to see each other. It was to be expected, of course—the different obligations and schedules prevented you two from hanging out. Nevertheless, you and Jacob would occasionally text each other whether it would be to complain about the progress of your opinion pieces or to share anything new happening on campus.

Talking about opinion pieces, you and Jacob submitted them on time. You two consulted each other non-stop, asking to read each other’s works and make any necessary edits or comments. The works that seemed like absolute garbage during the early stages turned into beautiful emotionally-charged ones. And you were glad that Jacob would trust you to read his piece in its unedited form.

To learn about his struggles to find his place both in Korea and Canada. Despite being born in Canada, he was always faced with racist remarks and microaggressions. So you would think that moving to Korea would give him the liberation of finally finding his place in the world. And yet, his growing up in a Westernized context made it all more difficult for him to connect with his classmates.

Having to be treated as an “outsider” no matter where he goes destroyed him. Like a wall being smashed by a sledgehammer; a glass being smacked off the table and shattering as it hits the ground; a rubber band being pulled until it snaps. For Jacob, having to go through such as a kid can only ruin him.

But in the middle of it all, he met Kevin. Whether it would be in the lunches they shared or talking about nothing, Kevin allowed him to take up space in a world that seemed to not have a spot for him. Whenever the boy found himself in the dark, he knew that all he needed to look for was the moon.

“I’m happy to see your byline on the cover page,” Chanhee says as he looks through the broadsheet. The two of you walk out of a building, slowly making your way to where you parked your car. “I think it might be one of my favorite articles from you and Jacob.”

You cannot help but shoot a smile at your best friend. “Thanks.”

As you two slowly pass by the athletics center, you cannot help but let your stare linger at the building. You knew that Sunwoo and Changmin were practicing for the year-end concert happening three weeks from now all while you were busying yourself with the editor application process.

It feels weird that the school year is coming to an end. Almost a month and a half left and Chanhee and Changmin will graduate while you and Sunwoo go on to the next year. At first, you did feel the anxiety start to bubble within you. What did the future have in store for you four? Would the different priorities rip you guys away?

But the reality is that you will never know, and there will never be a way to find out. And somehow, you cannot help but cherish whatever time you have left with them now. All that matters is that you still have each other now.

“Hey, I need to go to the dance studio.” You whip your head from the building to your best friend. “I said I could lend a hand in filming and taking pictures for documentary purposes,” he says with a small smile.

You shake your head and say, “It’s okay.” Your eyes look at the broadsheet Chanhee still holds. “I should say this now but you should check out the opinions section.”

With furrowed eyebrows, he flips through the pages until he reaches that portion. His eyes skim through the page until it lands on your byline. And just like that, you notice his expression shift into one of shock. “Oh my god, you ended up putting out an opinion piece?! I thought you decided against it,” he exclaims.

You show him a small smile despite his eyes still trained on the paper. “I decided against telling you and the others. I wanted to surprise you since it’s about you three.” As soon as you reveal that, you notice the way Chanhee pouts as he continues to read your article. “Oh my god, don’t read it in front of me!”

Chanhee giggles as he lets his eyes finally meet yours. “Did you know that this might be the sweetest thing anyone has done for me?”

“I know, it’s me after all,” you joke as you shrug your shoulders. And just like that, he cannot help but glare at you.

“This was supposed to be a sweet moment but you always seem to ruin it with your stupid comments.”

You let out a laugh as you smack your best friend’s arm. “I know, but I hope you enjoy reading it.”

His glare shifts back to a look full of adoration. And with that, he says, “I know that we always tell you that we’ll love whatever you write about, but this one might be my favorite. I can’t believe you think we’re worthy enough to be written about.” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you into a side hug. “I’m excited to read it.”

You wrap your arm around his waist in an attempt to reciprocate the action. “I would write thousands of stories about you guys. I hope you know that.”

If you were given only one topic to forever write about, you would not hesitate to pick your friend group. The reality is that there may not be enough words to truly describe how much love you have for them, but you can only hope that the stories that people have the privilege of reading will show them a love that is unlike any other.

“Okay,” you say as you unwrap your arm from his waist while he does the same from your shoulders. “I’ll see you sometime.”

As you shoot him a grin, Chanhee cannot help but smile back. “Yeah, get home safe, okay? I’ll make sure that we read it by tonight.”

You wave him goodbye before turning around and walking away. As you take your steps leading to the car, you cannot help but feel anxiety slowly bubble within you. Maybe your words would reach out to that one best friend—you can only hope he can read between the lines.

It is 8:34 PM. To Changmin’s surprise, practice ended earlier than expected. Almost everyone has left the dance studio, leaving him and his two best friends. The two were reading the broadsheet as they waited for him to get ready to go home. He got a copy as soon as he saw the stands filled with them.

The sight of your byline on the cover page warmed his heart—he wished he could tell you how proud he is of you in person, but your different schedules prevented him from doing so. Although he knew he could shoot you a message or ring you up, he wanted to hug you and tell you face-to-face.

He wipes away his sweat with a towel that hangs around his neck. As he makes his way to where his two friends sit to grab his jug, he does not miss the way their mouths part open with eyes filled with adoration. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What are you guys reading?” Their eyes snap towards him.

“You need to read this,” Sunwoo finally speaks up as he hands him the broadsheet. Changmin cannot help but still keep his eyebrows furrowed. Once he lets his eyes drift down to the paper, he notices that it is opened to the opinions section. He remains confused as his eyes skim through. That is until he spots your byline.

Followed by the title “Linked arms and bruised hearts,” your byline is positioned below it. His best friends do not miss the way his eyebrows shoot up. All this time, he was under the impression that you did not end up pushing through with writing an opinion piece, so to see that you have written two and a half columns worth had him surprised.

“Did you guys know they wrote an opinion piece?” He asks as his eyes snap back to Chanhee and Sunwoo. As the two shake their heads, he looks back at the broadsheet. He slowly takes a seat on the floor as his eyes remain on your article.

Linked arms and bruised heartsBy Y/N

Meet-cutes; love letters; playlists filled with romantic songs—that is all I know about love. Growing up, all the media I’ve surrounded myself with has shown me what love should be. Movies have taught me that love is grand confessions in front of a crowd of strangers while music has shown that it all comes from throwing stones at windows late at night. And the novels I’ve read are filled with poetic words that you would never hear in casual conversations.

With these media surrounding romance, I was fed with supposed “realistic” scenarios; bumping against someone in hallways and grazing hands with them as they help you pick up items that have dropped to the ground; spilling coffee on someone’s shirt and promising to make up for it through a date; being approached by someone in a bookstore who passionately talks about the book you picked up.

Aside from these storylines, I found my heart in the hands of fictional main leads who utter words of never-ending love. Their flirtatious remarks never fail to make me scream into pillows or cause butterflies to swarm my stomach.

I enjoyed it all because the feeling I got from consuming these brought the utmost joy into my fickle life. Unbeknownst to me, I never knew the consequences that came from these—especially for someone who has never experienced romantic love firsthand.

Never receiving love notes or being asked out on dates took a toll on how I perceived myself. While everyone gets to receive chocolates and flowers, I was left to imagine such a feeling through every possible form of media I can consume. At first, I told myself that I would have my moment—all it takes is time. But further down the long journey, I started to believe that I was put into this world to never experience it.

Having to think I was undesirable at the early stages of my teenage years made me believe that love is a privilege—something that not everyone can receive. The more I let such a mentality persist, the more I started to believe that my only role on Earth was work. With that, I believed that my future would have me waking up to work and going to sleep exhausted—all by myself.

That is until I met three boys who seemingly changed the trajectory of how my future would play out.

Funnily enough, I knew these three during my time chasing romance. These best friends of mine were some of the many to experience the love I desperately craved. You would think that I would hate being stuck in that position—that I would resent them for easily receiving something I longed for. But oddly enough, I was happy to bear witness to all their adventures because they showed me love I have never seen in movies.

As others give chocolates on Valentine’s Day, they would bring me home-cooked meals for no particular occasion. While people received “just because” flowers, I got “just because” playlists for they knew I would cherish them more. But these are only actions that cannot truly capture what they have shown me during the years I never knew of romantic love.

In our friend group, to love is to reestablish one’s independence—each person deserves to take up space in the world. And somehow, these three spent their time building me back up without me noticing. From my perception of being undesirable, I only started to learn how to be comfortable in my skin through the support they continued to shower me with.

Before I knew it, I found myself content with my uneventful love life. At one point, I stopped chasing the romance that artists sing of. It was only later on learned that love spoken of in the media is not always romantic; it can be platonic as well.

The love found in our friendships is not meant to be treated as second to the romantic one we seek. If anything, what we receive in our friendships shows us enough of what love overall should be; understanding of boundaries; shoulders to lean on at any time; and support even if you never ask.

I eventually found myself in a position where I could comfortably say that I was okay with my lackluster love life. The only reason I can say this is because my friends have shown me so much love that I do not need to seek it in other avenues.

I hope that when they read this, they know that I am forever indebted to them. Knowing them, they would say that this is all the bare minimum—that they would do it all without any question. But for someone whose understanding of love was skewered by media, my bruised heart has slowly healed through the care they have shown me throughout the years,

I hope that my future will always have them in it for I can never imagine a world without them. They are the reason why I know of love now—a reason why I choose to keep on going. And I now know that love is not an idea that the media monetizes off of. I exist in a reality where I got to meet my best friends—that is how I know love is real.

I used to think I would forever remain clueless about love, but the reality is that I actually know of it all now. Linking arms as you walk to nowhere; picnic dates in the middle of winter; agreements of sticking together past the age of 30—that is everything I know about love.

Changmin cannot help but feel his mouth part open as he reads your words. His heartstrings tug at your words. To learn that the reason you know of love is due to your group of four made him realize how much he does love you—and not just the platonic form.

For you, he would act as the arms that you can go back to at the end of the day; he would be your morning alarm and make sure you get out of bed in time; he would be everything you need and want because he loves you.

As soon as his eyes move back to his two best friends who can only smile, he realizes that your opinion piece is not only a commemoration of the love you receive from him, Chanhee, and Sunwoo. Rather, it is your way of finally sharing your feelings—ones that you were too afraid to tell him face-to-face.

“I have to go,” he whispers before handing back the broadsheet to the two.

Once he grabs his stuff, he dashes out of the dance studio, leaving Chanhee and Sunwoo all alone. “You think Y/N will have the guts to say it themselves?” Chanhee decides to ask the boy who sits beside him.

For Sunwoo, he would say you could never admit such feelings to your crush. That is why it is a miracle that Jacob was forward with you. But with Changmin, he cannot help but smile to himself.

“Yeah,” he voices out. “If they had the guts to write something like this, then I’m sure they want something with him after all.”

Your place feels duller than usual; the lights look dimmer; the pictures on the wall look less saturated; the air forms goosebumps all over your skin. As you sit in your kitchen with leftover bibimbap from yesterday, you stare at your phone as you eat away at the sad meal. It is not that it tastes bad, but something is preventing you from enjoying the food in front of you.

Hours have passed since you last saw Chanhee. Around this time, Sunwoo and Changmin might be finishing up their practice. The thing is you expect to receive a message at least from one of the three. Yet, your phone remains silent—no notification from them whatsoever.

At this point, you can feel the anxiety start to eat you away—it takes its time to nibble each limb of yours while you do nothing to stop it. There is no way to cease it, though. All you can do is sit and let it do its work. You can only hope that some sign from the universe would do something to keep it at bay.

And just like that, the doorbell rings.

With your mouth full of rice, beef, and stir-fried vegetables, you get off your seat and walk to the door. You take a peek into the peephole only to see the one guy you were terrified to be face-to-face with. You almost think to not open the door; maybe he will give up on waiting and walk away. But when his eyes trail from the floor to stare directly through the peephole, you freeze.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” He asks, almost like he knows you stand at the other side of the door. You wish you could do anything but just stand still. “I want to talk because I think I won’t be able to sleep well tonight if I don’t. But if you don’t want to have that conversation right now, I can wait another day.”

Your heart warms at his words. Even in a moment like this, he still cares about your comfort. Regardless of what you revealed in your opinion piece, he would willingly deal with restless nights if it meant giving you time to muster enough courage to talk about the elephant in the room. But the reality is that waiting for any other day will prolong your suffering.

When you notice Changmin slowly move away from the door, you quickly swing the door open. There he stands with eyes wide from the sudden action. As you swallow down the food in your mouth, you also swallow down your fears. You find yourself taking steps back, eyes still on him as he leaves his shoes outside before entering your place. He shuts the door behind him before dropping everything he carries to the floor but one thing—the broadsheet.

For a moment, you two stand still with no sound leaving any of your mouths. You almost think that you need to start the conversation, but the silence makes it all too difficult to speak.

“Y/N,” he calls out your name at first. You do not miss how his eyes are filled with wonder—one that resembles hope in the face of trouble. “I read it, and I loved it. I love knowing that Sunwoo, Chanhee, and I have shown you all of these.” Then his eyes trail back down to the paper he holds. “But I need to know if there’s something in between the lines or if it’s just me hoping for nothing.”

The way he stands in front of you is more vulnerable than ever, more than when he first approached you when he lost his competition. His shoulders are slumped in anxiety as he continues to look at the broadsheet that is opened to your opinion piece. And as your mouth opens in an attempt to speak, he looks back at you.

Under his stare, you know there is nothing you should worry about. But the reality is that sharing the most intimate parts of yourself with someone will always be difficult—confessing to your best friend will never be as easy as you hope for it to be.

Your mouth snaps close. As you look down to the ground, you bite the inside of your cheek as you think over the right words to say. Your brain rattles for a moment as you try to make a script on the spot. But you realize there is not enough time in the world to figure out what to tell him. And there will never be enough words to capture what you feel towards the boy who stands across from you.

“I used to think I would never have the privilege of receiving love,” you start. “You’ve read about it in that piece that’s in your hands, but it’s only a surface level of all my fears.”

Your eyes now look back up to him. His expression never falters, but it remains as fearful as yours. “I thought I was destined with a lonely future, that the reason why I was never asked out on dates or been confessed to is because there will never be space for another person in my life. So when Jacob started to show some interest in me, I thought it was the universe playing tricks on me.”

You find yourself letting out a small chuckle as you shift your weight from your left foot to the right. “I mean, you’re the one person who knows it the most. I told you that one night in the convenience store and that one time during the winter break.”

“And for a period, I thought that I was comfortable with occasional crushes because I didn’t have to commit to anything. I started to think that uncertainty was my way of sabotaging everything good coming my way, but I realized that it stemmed from my inexperience with love overall.”

You take a deep breath before saying, “But when I saw Hanhee and Byungho that one night where they were cuddling, I realized how nice it would be to just have someone to go back to at the end of a long day—to have a home in a form of a person.” You do not miss the way his eyes slowly start to fill with an emotion you cannot recognize.

“So I thought about who I would love to still see when I’m working, and I can only think about you three. I always find myself wishing that time will treat us well. I want us to remain together no matter what stage we are in our lives. And never once will I ever find myself trading our group for anything else—even for a shot in romance.” As you say those words, you notice a small smile that forms on his lips.

Because it is true—why would you trade years of genuine love and care for something that you do not know about? Why would you give up something so pure for something uncertain? And you know that love for others means taking risks, whether calculated or out of genuine impulse. And you would never consider yourself a risk taker. But you find yourself making an exception to do it just this once—one for your best friend.

“I love Sunwoo and Chanhee more than anything in the world,” you say. And now, you find yourself more scared than ever to admit the next sentence. You can hear your heartbeat out of your chest as you two stand in silence. But even if the boy across from you is dying to hear the next words, he never pushes you to say it if you are not ready.

You cannot help but smile at him. “But with you, Changmin,” you manage to choke out despite the anxiety that bubbles within you. “I wish that you will continue to link arms with me because I have found myself growing fond of it; I want you to continue accompanying me as we work on different tasks; I hope that after every day, whether boring or tiring, I can go back to you.”

And with your next words, he cannot help but feel all resolve crumble. “I think that you are the home I want to go back to.” You let your eyes flicker back down to the paper that he holds. “I found myself hoping that we’re both single when I turn 30 just so that I have more of an excuse to want you in my home.”

“And even though I have learned of love through you three, I want to experience the one I desire with you.” You let yourself smile as you look back up to him. “I hope that you will reserve enough love just for me as I already have for you.”

The next thing you know, Changmin drops the broadsheet to the ground. As he makes his way closer to you, you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. The distance between you two grows smaller. And when his face is inches away from yours, your breath hitches.

You notice the moles found on his face—one under his lip and another that rests on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a little messy from practice, with some strands slightly up. And his eyes are now filled with an emotion you cannot figure out.

You want to beg him to say something—anything, really. But when his hands reach out to grab hold of your face, all thoughts are knocked out.

His eyes flicker down to your lips before going back right to your eyes. “I will always want to be that home for you,” he whispers. “I always saw you as a place of solace for me, but I hope I can become that for you forever.” And he smiles at you before saying, “I have so much love stored in me that's made just for you.”

Before you know it, you find yourself closing the distance between you two. With eyes closed, you place your lips on his. The kiss is everything comforting and vulnerable—almost like how you would describe your relationship with him. His hands remain holding your face, his thumb occasionally sweeping across your cheek.

The warmth that fills your body is like no other—as if the sun has emerged within you. His hands on your cheeks remind you of all the seasons you have spent with him. Whether in summer or winter, he will always hold you because he loves you. And it is only starting to sink that he does love you—that he has so much love within him just to give to you.

He does not attempt to deepen it, fully aware that all of these are foreign waters. So when you find yourself parting from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath, his eyes are full of concern.

He is about to ask you something until you beat him to it. “Was that right?” As you whisper the question out, he cannot help but feel his heartstrings tug. He finds himself smiling while your eyes remain wide with curiosity. “Oh god, I just realized I kissed you without brushing my teeth!” Your exclaim does nothing but make him laugh.

“Don’t worry about what’s right. Just let me take the lead,” he says. “And I’d kiss you anytime, even after you’ve eaten or brushed your teeth.” You cannot help but smile, a giggle leaving your mouth.

The thing about Changmin is that he knows you inside out, from how you worry about everything to your fear of being vulnerable in front of anyone. But he knows how to support you—to tell you when to rest and to build a space where you do not have to be afraid to share your deepest sentiments.

Although the love you two first shared came from a place of platonic nature, it slowly shifted without you two noticing. And while everyone seemed to comment that what you two have seems to teeter between the boundary of platonic and romance, you never allowed their words to truly sway what you thought about your relationship. To you and Changmin, all that matters is what you decide on.

Your home is livelier than ever; the lights shine brighter than usual; the pictures on the wall are full of color; you find yourself warm despite the cold air. As soon as his arms wrap around you, you can feel your heart soar to heights that have never been imagined. You allow yourself to snuggle closer to him, having your face rest in the crook between his neck and shoulder. All that can be said is that you both are happy. You love each other—both platonically and romantically.

“When does this graduation end?” Sunwoo complains beside you as he lets himself melt in the chair. “If I knew this would take forever, I would have eaten something heavy for breakfast.”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone told you it would take long. That’s on you now.”

The boy scowls at you before saying, “Yeah, yeah. You’re only not complaining because you get to see your stupid boyfriend on stage.” You gasp as he says those words. “I said what I said!”

“That boyfriend you’re referring to is your best friend, by the way! And we’re here to support our other friends.”

“Yeah, no one cares. Don’t forget that I was your best friend first, so you need to take my side if we end up fighting.” From his response, you roll your eyes. You knew that Sunwoo was only joking around, saying nonsense just to pass the time.

It is 3:23 PM, and you two are seated by the bleachers as you wait for the graduation ceremony to end. From the people graduating, you two were able to recognize many faces that you would have to say goodbye to—Juyeon to name a memorable face.

“I’m just saying that I can’t believe they won’t let us sit with the Ji family. I mean, we’re practically part of them! And since you’re dating him, you’re basically an in-law.” Sunwoo’s attempt to justify his disbelief towards the situation has you chuckling.

Before you can comment, the person who stands by the lectern announces a familiar name. “Choi Chanhee; bachelor of arts degree in Photography; Magna Cum Laude.” As your best friend makes his way to the middle of the stage, you and Sunwoo get off your seats.

“Go, Chanhee!” You find yourself cheering as loud as you can.

“Chanhee-ah, you’re so cool!” The boy beside you shouts out loud in an attempt to embarrass your best friend (while embarrassing you both in the process). You notice Chanhee’s attempts to hold back his laugh as he grabs his diploma. He clearly heard your cheers all the way from the bleachers.

Once he bowed and made his way off the stage, you and Sunwoo fell back down to your seats. “Well, we succeeded in embarrassing Chanhee,” you say, which earns a laugh from your best friend.

You let out a sigh before going back to the topic. “I am not an in-law. I mean, Changmin and I only became official like a month and a half ago!” When you look at your best friend, he only stares at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, his family loves you—always have and always will. I think they’re just waiting for him to put a ring on your finger.” You laugh in disbelief.

“Moon Hyungseo; bachelor of arts degree in Psychology; renowned Features editor for two academic years; Magna Cum Laude.” With that, your conversation gets cut short. As your old editor makes his appearance, you two get off your seats and cheer him on.

“Go, Kevin hyung!” Sunwoo cheers beside you. Although Kevin may not be able to hear you guys, you know that he would still appreciate your cheers. As soon as he makes his way off the stage, you two fall back down to your chairs.

You look at your best friend and say, “Again, I just started dating Changmin. We haven’t discussed marriage at all because we are too young to begin with.” You go back to looking at the stage as more unfamiliar faces get their diplomas. “A lot of this is still new to me, you know? So I still find myself kind of nervous about this whole setup.”

The boy beside you hums. “I mean, it’s valid for you to be nervous. You two were friends before officially being together. And I know it’s still new for you, but it is for him also.” You cannot help but look back at him. “I mean, he’s only gone on dates and had one relationship back in high school. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you are.” Your attention goes back to the stage.

Sunwoo is right—you and Changmin barely had enough knowledge of what comes out of a romantic relationship, but both of you can recognize that your dynamic did slightly change. Most actions that you two did while you were still friends remained; linking arms; occasional banter; and sitting in comfortable silence.

However, with the new nature of your relationship, you started to notice that your boyfriend has gone out of his way to spend more time with you whenever possible. Aside from that, he would buy you two meals to share for every dinner, making sure that you ate the right amount of food. Of course, you would find yourself kissing him more—sometimes leading to more heated make-out sessions thanks to him. But for the most part, you were happy with what you have with him now.

Before you can say anything, the emcee calls out, “Jacob Bae; bachelor of arts degree in Korean Language and Literature; Summa Cum Laude.” The two of you two stand up once more from your seats. As you watch Jacob make his way to the dean, you cannot help but cheer him on as he grabs his diploma.

“Go, Jacob!” Your shout is loud, reaching its way to the boy who is on stage. He scans the crowd until his eyes land on you and Sunwoo. At the sight of you two clapping, he cannot help but smile back before bowing and making his way off the stage.

Once you two sit back down, you cannot help but let out a small sigh. “I think it’s still surreal that I’m with Changmin, you know?” You voice out your concerns to your best friend. “I mean, I never once imagined myself being with my best friend.”

In your peripheral vision, you see the way Sunwoo nods. “I still can’t believe my two childhood besties are together. Like, you’re going to make me third-wheel every time Chanhee is not with us.” You roll your eyes as you smack his arm. He lets out a chuckle at your reaction. “But if I’m going to be honest, I’m glad that you two have each other.”

You smile at his words as your eyes remain on the stage. “Lee Jaehyun; bachelor of arts degree in Archaeology; Magna Cum Laude.” As soon as the emcee calls out the name, you spot Hyunjae making his way to the middle of the stage. You and Sunwoo get off your seats to cheer him on, but you cannot help but remember your conversation with Chanhee.

“Yeah, Hyunjae hyung and I are just friends,” Chanhee says as he scrolls through the photos on his camera.

Your friend group is seated by your hideout. While Chanhee assesses his photos, Sunwoo is busy animating his final project. You are also writing one of your final papers for class all while Changmin is adding some final edits to his thesis paper. Although you two were working, your boyfriend could not help but keep his hand on your thigh—not in an attempt to arouse you but just to hold you out of pure comfort.

“Really? How come?” You decide to ask as you rip your eyes away from the screen.

Chanhee looks away from his camera to look at you. “I’ve mentioned this already to Changmin, but I think we’re just friends. We did like each other at first, but the dates we went on made us realize that maybe it’s better to keep it platonic.” You only hum as you stare at the boy who sits across from you. “Hyunjae also admitted that he still has something complicated with his ex.”

Sunwoo clicks his tongue. “Kim Younghoon, right? The culinary student?” Chanhee nods at his words. “Yeah, I think I heard about that before. I didn’t know they would get back together.”

Chanhee can only shrug. “I mean, I don’t know what will happen between the two. And if Hyunjae and I ever decide to revisit the idea of dating, I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he finds himself admitting. “But now, I’m okay with where I am now. I’m happy with the love I receive from you guys.” As he says those words, you cannot help but smile. You knew he was referencing your opinion piece.

“Honestly, me too,” Sunwoo chimes in with eyes remaining on his tablet as he draws away. “I hate to flatter Y/N once more, but I think that opinion piece did make me realize how okay I am with being single. And it’s not like I’ll give up on romantic love entirely, but I’m comfortable waiting it out.”

You pout at your best friend’s words before saying, “Thanks guys, I mean it.”

“Of course, it means a lot that you wrote about us. Even if it was your attempt to confess to Changmin, we’ll still take it,” Chanhee says, only making your boyfriend giggle. “How ironic that you talked about being okay with platonic love while your main goal was to get with Changmin after all.” You know your best friend says it sarcastically, but you want to be clear with your point.

“Hey! The main goal of the piece was really to talk about how fulfilled I feel from the love that comes from you guys. Aren’t you guys happy that I don’t use romantic love as my basis for self-worth anymore?”

“Of course we’re happy. I mean, that’s all we want for you,” Changmin says as he looks at you. “We never wanted you to think you’re worth any less just because you never got love notes or chocolates from admirers.” He takes a look at his two other best friends. “I think we all had this silent agreement to help in rebuilding your self-esteem. I think all of us wanted to make sure that everyone can be comfortable independently while still having shoulders to lean on for support.”

As he says those words, you cannot help but nod along with him. In your group, the one thing you all care about the most is boosting each other’s self-esteem. The reality is that it is hard to reestablish that sense of independence and self-worth all by yourself. That is why friends play an important role as they support you, whether through cheering you on in certain endeavors or just in general reassurance.

“Yeah, I think that I never really found myself being confident in my skills in photography and video editing until I met you three. I mean, it pushed me to make that documentary for the K-Pop student idols coverage,” Chanhee says with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me to your group.”

Sunwoo smiles at his best friend who sits beside him and says, “I don’t know if we ever told you, but our group never felt complete until you came into the picture. You helped to get that ball rolling—finding ways to help us find happiness in being independent. And along the journey, you reminded us of the importance of leaning on each other.” You notice the way Chanhee pouts at his words. “I hope you know how much we appreciate you for looking out for us.”

Before you know it, tears stream down Chanhee’s cheeks. “Guys, I can’t believe you’re making me cry right now.” You and Changmin stand up from your seats, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand as you two make your way to the other side of the picnic table. Sunwoo has already scooted closer to Chanhee, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. With that, you and Changmin hug your best friend who cannot help but cry from all the love he receives.

“I love you, Chanhee,” you whisper into his hair. You let your chin rest on his head as you look at Sunwoo and Changmin. “And I love you both. Thank you for teaching me what it means to love and to be loved.”

You cannot help but smile at the memory. The love felt in your friend group never fails to tug on your heartstrings. The reality is that you were lucky to have them—not everyone has the privilege of being friends with the three. Although you like to call them your demons who never fail to rile you up or press your buttons, you know that the love they shower you with will be greater than whatever anyone can show you.

As soon as Hyunjae makes his way off the stage, you and Sunwoo go back to sitting down. “Do you think Changmin and I will end up like Chanhee and Hyunjae?” You decide to finally ask. A part of you fears that what you two have is a mistake—that you both mistook whatever feelings you harbor for each other.

But Sunwoo always finds a way to reassure you while telling you the truth. “We’ll never know for sure because only time can tell what’s in store for you two.” You find yourself nodding at his words. “But for me, I think what you have with Changmin is special. I don’t think anything can compare to what you two have.”

You find yourself smiling at his words before looking at him. “I love you, Sunwoo. You know that, right?” He looks back at you with a small smile before nodding.

“I love you, too. I have always known that since our first days being seatmates in grade school. I knew that the universe brought us together for a reason, and I’m glad that I will always have you in my life.” From his words, you cannot help but lean your head on his shoulder. As he wraps his arm around your shoulders, you watch more unfamiliar faces come and go.

As soon as many unfamiliar students grabbed their diplomas, you notice that they have finally started to call students with special awards. And the emcee’s next words make you smile. “Now, to formally award the student with the most outstanding graduate thesis, we hereby present Ji Changmin; bachelor of science degree in Early Childhood Education; Summa Cum Laude.” As soon as they call out your boyfriend’s name, you and Sunwoo immediately get off your seats and cheer your hearts out.

The sight of Changmin walking up to the middle of the stage with a smile pulls at your heartstrings—you are proud of everything that he does. He always finds ways to continuously prove himself, and you hope he knows that everyone recognizes his efforts. And more than that, you hope that he sees that these achievements are only a fraction of who he is. Changmin is more than just awards—he is everything good found in this world.

“Changmin-ah! I love you!” You find yourself shouting out loud. Despite wanting to stay out of the spotlight on most occasions, there is no sense of shame within you as you cheer those words out. You want the world to know that you would gladly be under the light if it meant showing your support for the boy who you love.

Your shout is loud as it reaches all the way to Changmin. His eyes flicker towards you, and his smile gets bigger at the sight of you. He raises his pinky out towards you—a promise that all he does will be for you and himself. And you find yourself doing the same, promising him that all you want is for both of you to succeed with each other’s support.

“I can’t believe it’s only going to be me and Sunwoo.” The four of you are by your hideout, sitting on the picnic table for one last time as a complete group. You find yourself leaning your head on Changmin’s shoulder with arms still linked with each other. “I can’t keep being stuck with that loser!” Your eyes rest on the boy you have known for more than twelve years.

Sunwoo glares at you. “Yah! You think I like being stuck with you?” As you two make faces at each other, you can feel Changmin’s shoulders shake from his chuckle.

“Did you bring the multi-tool?” Chanhee finally asks his best friend who sits beside him. Once Sunwoo hands it to him, he smiles at you three. “What shall we carve on this little table of ours?”

“Why don’t you just carve our initials? It’s simple,” you suggest, only to earn groans from a particular someone you seem to be stuck with.

“Boring! Think of something fun, you know?” Sunwoo’s response only has you rolling your eyes. “What about a diamond? You know, because it has four sides and we’re four people.”

Chanhee cannot help but scowl at him. “Even worse than what Y/N suggested.” Sunwoo only frowns at him. “What about you, Changmin? Any ideas?”

For a moment, he hums as he thinks of anything possible to carve. You almost start to think he has no suggestions with how long his hum lasts. That is until he suggests a symbol perfect to describe your four.

“What about a bandaged heart? You know, we all have bruised hearts from what life decides to bring our way, but we keep on going because we have each other.” Your boyfriend’s suggestion makes you three smile.

“Ah, you stole that from Y/N’s opinion piece,” Chanhee playfully scolds Changmin. But he finds himself nodding before saying, “But I think it does perfectly describe us.”

As he slowly starts to carve out the symbol, Sunwoo decides to speak up. “I was thinking we can drag Eric to join us here if you don’t mind?” The question is more directed towards you, making you hum in agreement. “He has this other friend who I think you’ll get along with. His name is Haknyeon.” You find yourself smiling at your best friend’s words.

“I’m down for that,” you say before lifting your head off your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I mean, as long as you’re there, I don’t mind.”

As you admit that to Sunwoo, he cannot help but smile back. However, he quickly covers it up by saying, “Ugh, so obsessed with me! Changmin, how do you deal with Y/N?” You gasp at your best friend’s words. What is even worse is that your boyfriend says nothing to defend you, only laughs along.

“Yah! Ji Changmin! How could you let him say that?!” Despite your complaints, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, smothering your left cheek with kisses. The sight makes Sunwoo and Chanhee roll their eyes, but everyone is happy to see the new shift in the relationship.

Once Chanhee finishes carving out a beautiful image of a bandaged heart, everyone cannot help but smile at the sight. The lines of the heart are a little jagged—not very neat but it is clear to see that it is a heart. The bandage on it, however, is nice and clean. You cannot help but think the symbol is perfect to capture your friend group.

Although the bandaged heart may look a little rough, the idea still lives forever on this picnic table that became a getaway for your group. This place has witnessed all the laughs and tears you can ever recall in your college life. You hope that the next group of friends that stumble upon this spot will find solace the same way you four did.

Sunwoo shoots a look at Chanhee before saying, “Come on, let’s leave these two lovebirds to do whatever shit they need to do.” As soon as he stands up, Chanhee follows him. But before they decide to leave you two, Sunwoo says, “Please do not have sex on the table.”

You find yourself reeling at your best friend’s words. “Yah! Who do you think we are?”

Your two best friends look at each other before their eyes land back on you and Changmin. “We’re just saying that your boyfriend is quite scandalous.” Once you look at your boyfriend, you notice the frown on his face that is accompanied by cheeks that are dusted pink from what his friends revealed.

“And we’re off!” Chanheee exclaims. Just like that, your two best friends make their way out of the hideout, leaving you and your boyfriend all alone.

Although Changmin has his arm wrapped around your waist, you cannot help but shoot him a look of suspicion. “So, what type of kinks have you not revealed to me? I thought we knew everything about each other?” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before placing another kiss on your cheek.

“That conversation is for another day,” he whispers with a smile. You only roll your eyes at his attempt to change the topic. He then says, “I want you to tell me about your plans for next year.” And with that, you show him a small smile before going on a tangent on what you have in store for the Features staff.

Around a month ago, you received news that you would take over as the Features editor. The day you got the news happened to land on the same day as Sunwoo’s and Changmin’s year-end concert. Your boyfriend was recognized for his beautifully crafted choreographies, and you remember how happy you were to see the standing ovations he received. So when you told him during dinner that you’ll be the incoming Features editor, you remember the joy that took over his face. It was one for the books—the day brought only good news.

A few days after the year-end concert, Kevin held one last meeting with the Features staff as a whole. It happened over lunch in the restaurant of Mr. Lim’s, the same owner whom you interviewed for the small business coverage. The food was to die for; the sour taste of the Kimchinigang, a pork stew that is mixed with vegetables and kimchi; the savory taste of the Beef Pares jajangmyeon, a black bean noodle dish accompanied with braised beef; and the sweet taste of turon hotteok, a banana-filled pancake.

Everything about that lunch felt comforting, from the food to the people you were with. You wish you could have frozen that moment—make time stand still even for a few minutes longer. But of course, moments like these always come to an end. It feels bittersweet to recall.

“Do you think you can pass me some soup?” Yunjin asks from beside you while she hands her bowl to you, eyes staring at the spicy pork stew. As soon as you pour enough soup with pieces of pork and vegetables, she signals you to stop.

You pass her the bowl with a smile and ask, “So, will I see you next year?”

She smiles at you. “Of course, I like it here.” She looks around the table to see that the staff is finishing up their meals. “I think I’m just going to miss a lot of people, but,” her eyes then land on you. “I’ll still be with you.”

Your heart warms at her words. The grin on your face is something that cannot be wiped. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this editor shit, so I’m glad I’ll at least have some familiar faces.”

Yunjin cannot help but nudge your side before taking a sip of her soup. “You’re not alone. I mean, me and Chaeyeon unnie will be here.” You let your eyes lie on the girl Yunjin sits across from, seeing that she is in the middle of a conversation with Seungcheol.

“Yeah,” you say as you smile to yourself.

Before you can say anymore, you feel the person on your other side nudging you. You roll your eyes before looking at the boy who seemingly interrupted your thoughts. “And what do you want from me, Mr. Bae?”

Jacob chuckles as he takes one more bite of the pancake. “Are you ready for Kevin’s speech?” You cannot help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “You think Kevin would end his term as an editor without some parting words?”

Before you can share your thoughts, you notice your editor get off his seat with a glass filled with some unknown cocktail in his hand. Everyone snaps out of their conversation as they stare at the boy who clears his throat.

“I think that it’s only right to say something before officially ending my term as your editor,” he starts off. His eyes scan over the people who stay seated, a smile on his lips. “I’ve been the Features editor for two years—some of you guys I worked with for those two entire years while others only one.”

“I have to admit that being an editor is not easy,” he chuckles. “I mean, there were so many times where I even questioned why I ended up becoming one because I thought I wasn’t the right person for the job.”

He bites on his bottom lip as he thinks over the next words to be said. “I used to think that being an editor would be a lonely and pressuring job—one that would have me always act quickly if any issue arises or think quickly to handle all the concerns that may be brought to my attention. And to be fair, it is that, but it’s only the surface of what it means to be an editor.”

“I learned in my two years that I am not just someone who will just guide you throughout all your stay in the publication—I grow with you in the same way you grow as a writer.” His words tug on your heartstrings. Your eyes are now wide due to his moving words.

“I want to thank you all for letting me work with you. It’s been my pleasure to read your pitches and stories that bring change to the community. But I also want to say that it’s been such an honor to get to know you all not only as writers but as individuals.” He takes a moment to breathe. “I have witnessed growth happen to each one of you, and I'm glad I became someone you guys can rely on. Thank you for choosing Features.”

His eyes then land on you, and he flashes you a smile. “Y/N, I know the process of deliberating and accomplishing the application was a difficult one. But I want to tell you how proud I am of you.” You can feel your lips quiver at his words. “I’m glad to hand over my position to you officially.”

Before you know it, Kevin makes his way towards you, finding his spot behind you as he rests his hand on your shoulder. As he rubs your shoulder, he brings his mouth close to your ear only for you to hear. And he whispers, “I still mean what I said then.”

His last sentence is a nod to the individual consultation you had with him regarding the position and your opinion piece. That one statement reminds you that he still thinks you are destined for greatness, and you cannot help but feel heartache. You will never find yourself forgetting the time Kevin spent to foster a space of care and growth not only for you but for the rest of your staff.

And you realize at that moment that you are now passed on with that duty—to build up your staff to become better writers while still looking out for them like you would with your friends. Because your staff will always be your friends before they are writers who work under your care. No matter what position you hold, you know that they are people you can rely on if you need to—the same goes for the editorial board.

When you feel Jacob wrap his arm around you, you notice the way he rubs on your arm. His touch is a comforting one—one where you can find yourself entering a space that is built for you to be vulnerable. And you swear you are not the type of person who will cry in front of anyone. To begin with, you already find it difficult to be vulnerable with your friends.

But at that moment, you feel the waterworks turn on. The tears slowly trail down your face as you bite on your bottom lip. Accompanied by Jacob’s comforting rubs, you feel the way he pulls you to his side so that you are closer to him. You wish you could find the right words to say at that moment, but you realize that the rest of the staff do not expect you to say anything because they understand how bittersweet this moment is.

With the way Kevin and Jacob hold you in an attempt to comfort you, you realize how indebted you are to these two. They have done nothing but care for you almost in the same way Sunwoo, Changmin, and Chanhee have for you. And it pains you to know that you will not see their faces on campus for the next year—that they will never see you doing your editor duties.

But you realize that does not have to be the case because you now know that the working relationship you have with the two has now blossomed into one of friendship. You now know you are not bidding them farewell, but an “I’ll message you whenever” instead. You are glad to have joined the publication because this choice brought you to them.

You were proud of how much you two have achieved during this difficult journey. You two have come so far—from high schoolers who were still navigating the uncertainties of adolescent years to adults who have achieved heights never imagined. Although you two still had to navigate the joys and struggles of adulthood outside of college years, you knew that you had each other to rely on.

“I’m proud of you,” your boyfriend says as soon as you finish listing some plans for the next academic year. You cannot help but smile at his words. “I mean, I’ve seen you from just being a writer to taking a spot on the editorial board. I’m so glad I got to witness that growth.”

You let your hand reach out to his cheek, your thumb grazing against his cheek. “You know, I’m also proud of you, right?” He shows you a small smile. “I mean, your passion for dance still shows, and I’m glad that you were recognized for your talents and efforts. Despite some losses, you found a way to bounce back,” you say. “And I’m glad that you were able to figure out a career path that works for you.”

He unwraps one arm from your waist so that he can let his hand rest on top of yours that remains on his face. “I’m glad that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with me. I know how hard it is for you on most days, but I’m happy you’re taking steps to allow for that change.” And you cannot help but feel your bottom lip quiver at his words.

“I love you, Changmin,” you whisper out. You bring your face closer to his so that you can rest your forehead against his. You let your eyes close before saying, “I’m glad I got to learn all about love through you.”

You feel him give you a peck on the lips. The action makes you giggle. As you open your eyes, you see how big his smile is. “I love you, too. Thank you for being my reason to keep on going.”

In your time knowing Changmin, you learned that linked arms always come with bruised hearts—that trusting someone means having to expose your most vulnerable side to them. Although it is hard to take such steps, the feeling that comes from it after is liberating.

The reality is that loving someone means building spaces for them to tell you their deepest sentiments. It also means supporting them in all that their heart lies on—helping to reestablish their independence. But most importantly, it means giving them reasons to keep going on the journey you both embark on.

You have learned about love from your best friends more than romantic media will ever show you. And every day, you are glad to continuously learn all about it through them. And now, all the love that is stored within you will grow in abundance because your friends have spent their time filling you with it.

But most of all, you are happy to know that you are not destined for loneliness in the end. You do not have to think about going back home to a colorless home after every hard day at work. Instead, you knew that your future would be full of warmth and color—all thanks to the one person who has taught you the most about love.

if you liked this, please take some time to reblog this!

#zzoguri works #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #the boyz #ji changmin #the boyz x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin fluff #the boyz fluff #q x reader #kyu x reader #of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going)

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mirikitakato · 4 months ago

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[Translation] Shylock SSR Card: Conjectures on a Night of Scintillating Butterflies

Include Card Story, Card Episode and Home-screen voiceline.

Event: Tanabata 2024 - A Spell For You Beneath Starlit Skies Characters: Shylock, Lennox, Akira.

Together, they make candies~

Card Story: Whispering a wish to the stars

Shylock: Well then, to celebrate this momentous day...

Lennox & Akira: Cheers!

After my experience as a Sage’s wizard ended, a farewell party was held in the dining hall under the guise of a congratulatory gathering.

Lennox: Sage, you’ve worked hard all day.

Shylock: Aside from this drink, you have something else from us as well...

Shylock: “Invibelle”

Lennox: “Forsettao Meiuvat”

I reached as if catching a star that had fallen from the night sky, a piece of sugar appeared in my palm.

Shylock: Please accept this as a small token of our appreciation. You must be tired after experiencing the duties of a Sage’s wizard today.

Akira: Wow...Thank you so much! Not only did I have my dream of wanting to use magic come true, but I also got sugar from Shylock... ...Um, I don't want to just keep receiving your gifts. Is there anything you two would like me to do for you in return?

Shylock: Oh my. As for me, just seeing your sparkling smile at the unknown experience is enough... But refusing such a kind offer from the Sage is not gentlemanly. If you don’t mind, could you teach me something fun that I can do without using magic?

Akira: Me teaching Shylock...?

Shylock: Yes. Seeing you get excited about unknown experiences all day, I felt like I wanted to get drunk on new experience as well. Just like you experienced a world with magic, I would like to taste the world without magic that you see every day. ...So, please teach me. Teacher Akira.

Akira: T-teacher?

Lennox: Haha. Indeed, it's a rare opportunity to have Sage as our teacher. I ask you too, Teacher Akira.

Akira: Lennox too...! ...Alright. I, Maki Akira, will do my best as a teacher! (...But what could I do to make them happy?)

I casually looked down and noticed the sugar in my hand.

Akira: (...That's it! That might work...) Alright, let's begin the lesson!

Shylock & Lennox: *clap clap*

Lennox: "Candy making"...That's the topic we gonna learn today?

Akira: Yes! See, you can create sugar instantly with magic, right? So, I thought it would be interesting to try making something sweet like sugar ourselves, without using magic.

Shylock: Fufu, I'm looking forward to the lesson the Sage has planned for us.

Shylock & Lennox: I’m in your care, teacher Akira.

And so, Shylock and Lennox's “no-magic-experience” began.

Episode 2

Akira: First, let's put the Stardust Sugar and water into the pot…Let's see, the amount is...

Digging up memories from my childhood, I put sugar and water into the pot and put it on the fire.

Lennox: The color is changing. It's turning slight yellow...How long do we keep this on the fire?

Akira: Until the yellow becomes darker...like the color of Snow and White's eyes.

Shylock: Snow and White's...

Shylock & Lennox: ……

Akira: (It’s the first time I see them both staring intently into the pot like that…) ...Okay, I think it's about right. Let's move on to the next step.

I turned off the heat, poured it into a mold, and waited about 5 minutes. When I touched the surface of the candy with a spoon...

Akira: Oh, no... It's not hardened...! I'm sorry, it seems I've failed...

Shylock: Don't worry about it. Isn't this part of the experience of doing things without magic?It’d be boring if everything went well right away. Failure is a good spice.

Lennox: Yes. There's no need to rush. Let's try again as many times as it takes to get it right.And I'm sure this time will be fun too, since we’re doing it with you.

Akira: Shylock, Lennox...Thank you.Maybe we can find a different use for this unhardened candy...

Lennox: ...Yeah. It's sweet and delicious. It has a slightly fragrant aroma too, which is pretty charming.

Shylock: If the taste is fine, it's easy. I'll try various things with it later. Now that we've decided what to do with this candy... Sage, would you like to try again?

Akira: Yes! But I wonder why it didn't harden last time...

Shylock: Maybe the sugar in your world and stardust sugar have different properties.

Akira: I see. For example, when making it with stardust sugar, maybe it needs to be heated a little more? Let's boil the stardust sugar with water again as an experiment.

Shylock: A beautiful honey color... It was about this color last time, right?

Akira: Yes.From there, let's get it a little closer to the color of Nero's eyes...

Lennox: ...Ah.

All: Now!

Quickly, we removed the pot from the heat and poured it into the mold.

Akira: (I hope it works this time...)

We waited for the heat to cool and gently tapped the surface with a spoon...

Akira: It's hardened! I did it!

Lennox: Good job, Teacher Akira.

Shylock: Like the sunrise spreading over the horizon...It's a beautiful color.

Akira: Yes, the appearance is perfect!...Next is the taste.

We looked at each other and simultaneously put the golden jewel into our mouths.

Episode 3

Shylock: Hmm. As soon as I put it in my mouth, a delicate sweetness danced upon my tongue, accompanied by a delightful aroma.

Lennox: It's a flavor Mitile and Riquet would love. Sage, may I make some more for the children?

Akira: Yes! Of course!

After the candy-making had settled down, Shylock stayed in the kitchen as if he had something he wanted to do, and Lennox went around distributing candy to the children.

I wonder if I was able to do something that Shylock and Lennox would enjoy...

Akira: (Considering that they are both long-lived wizards, and I made a big mistake at the beginning of the lesson...)

Shylock: I've kept you waiting, Sage.

Akira: Shylock!

Shylock: If you'd like, please try this.

When I received the glass he offered, a sweet smell similar to caramel sauce tickled my nose.

Akira: Is this perhaps...

Shylock: It's a special drink I made by arranging the candy that didn't harden. In this way, things thought to be failures are reborn into a new form, or make us contemplate the reasons why things didn't work out. Precisely because we didn't use magic, this moment came into being. And because it required effort, it was dear and unique. Sage. Thank you for the enjoyable lesson.

Akira: I'm glad... I'm relieved to hear you say that.

As I breathed a sigh of relief, my eyes fell on the hand of Shylock that wasn't holding the glass.

Akira: …..Wow, the candy Shylock is holding is cute.

He held out three star-shaped candies, each on a little stick. Their golden glow was aimed straight at me.

Shylock: I made these three stars secretly as a gift for Sage.

Akira: Is that so, secretly for......Ehhhh!? Can I really have such beautiful candies?

Shylock: Of course. And as a bonus, I'll grant you as many wishes as there are candies.

Akira: T-that's totally not what you would call a “bonus”…

Shylock: It's rare to hear the wishes of Sage, who is always modest. Please, don't hesitate to tell me your wish.

Akira: Shylock... Thank you. I wonder what I should wish for...

The three star-shaped candies seemed to sparkle like stars shining in the night sky.

Akira: Shylock is amazing. You don't use any magic but still make me excited. I actually learned from Shylock how to enjoy things without using magic!

Shylock: Fufu, it's because you taught me the fun of not using magic.

Smiling, Shylock leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered.

Shylock: ...I'm also looking forward to hearing what kind of wish the Sage will whisper to these stars.

Card Episode: I'll be happy to grant any wish of yours.

Akira: Hmm...

Shylock: Sage, is something troubling you?

Akira: Oh, Shylock! It's not so much a trouble as it is...I've been thinking about what to wish for with the gift you gave me the other day. When you say I can have as many as three wishes, I suddenly can't really think of anything.

Shylock: Fufu... You said “as many” and not “only three”. That's a very humble thing to say for a Sage.

Akira: Uhm, I did have a few ideas. But when I think about it carefully, I feel like I should fulfill them myself rather than asking Shylock for them...

Shylock: You're so ascetic and modest. Granting your wish is also a reward for me. From cute requests to difficult ones, I'll be happy to grant any wish. So please don't hesitate to ask for anything.

Akira: Ahaha, thank you. But it's a very precious right, so please let me think about it a little more. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Shylock...

Shylock: There's no deadline, so please take your time. Besides, to see you, a humble person, struggling with the desire for a wish...that sight is surely beautiful beyond measure.

----Home-screen Voiceline----

“For me, a year is as fleeting as a moment. But if I’m longing for you so much that I can’t wait, I don’t want to lie to myself. I might even recklessly cross the Milky Way to see you.”

#mahoyaku #translation #shylock

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mythrae · 1 year ago

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An Appalling Ally

Summary: Orin the Red reveals to Lord Enver Gortash how she got rid of her competition as Bhaal's Chosen.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), discussion of graphic depictions of violence, non-consensual, incest, also some light smut

Author's Notes:

Not beta'd so please be kind

Thank you to everyone who read the first part! 🫶🏻🥹✨ love u

Please pay attention to warnings I listed, I know these topics can be very triggering!

Click to read Part One here!

Click to read on AO3 here!

“WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS DID YOU DO TO HER?”

Lord Enver Gortash stood and banged his fists on his wooden desk, knocking over his wine-filled chalice. The deep red liquid bled on the table and spilled to the floor, dripping on the feet of Orin the Red. She stood patiently, a grotesque smile stretched across her face.

She had summoned herself to his study, upsetting his guards as she broke into Wyrm's Crossing late in the evening under the guise of a fan-girl, seeking the soon-to-be Archduke's affections. When he had invited her in, hoping for a little amusement from the halfling, she had transformed in front of him, showing her true self — and her true intentions for gaining an audience with him.

“I told you, Little Tyrant. I simply got rid of her.” She replied with a smirk. “And so I am here to fulfill my duties as Bhaal’s newest chosen, including helping you and Ketheric enslave the Elder Brain with the Crown of Karsus.”

He reached over his desk and grabbed the changeling’s shoulders. “Mythrae has been missing for days, Orin. Where is she?” He shouted at the woman in front of him, his fingernails digging into her pale, marbled skin.

“Now now, no need to get so hasty!” She laughed, shrugging his hands off and flashing her ring of teleportation to him. “If things get too out of hand, I have my grandfather's gift, hm? So let’s try and be more… civil, shall we?”

His face turned to stone as he sat back in his seat. He knew he had to take control of his temper, or the little minx would be out of his grasp. He already detested her, from what Mythrae has spoken of her sister, but actually working with her sounded abhorrent to the Chosen of Bane.

But how else was he going to find his betrothed?

"Speak, Orin. Tell me where she is."

“Oh, but that would be no fun, wouldn’t it?” She asked, placing her hands on the table. “It would be more thrilling for me to show you instead.”

The stench of death and blood filled Gortash’s nostrils as she leaned in close to him, her blackened lips dangerously close to his own. Her eyes, fully white, looked at him like a piece of meat, asking to be devoured by her alone.

Gods, what a truly vile creature.

He waved his hand at her, reclining back in his chair and opening the space between them. “Fine, have it your way. Show me what happened.”

“With pleasure.” She sneered. “I’ll put on quite a show for you, Enver.”

“Don’t call me that.” He nearly spat. “It’s Lord Gortash to you.”

“Whatever you say, Little Lordling.”

Orin's body started to transform, the sound of her bones cracking and skin shifting making Gortash feel uneasy. She was truly a lover of the macabre and grotesque, and loved putting on quite a disgusting show whenever she morphed herself. Before long, he saw she had become a reflection of himself.

"Remember that letter you wrote to her? After the two of you stole the Crown of Karsus?" She asked, his own voice filling his study.

Gortash nodded. Yes, he remembered. It was the last correspondence he had with Mythrae.

"Well, what you had written was very lovely, but I had to make some... changes, you see. Put my own spin on it." His reflection, controlled by Orin herself, paced around his desk as he spoke.

"What did you tell her?"

"There was no way I could get her alone up here," she gestured out to the window behind Gortash, the city still alive so late in the night, "so I told her to meet me — or I guess, you — in the Temple of Bhaal. Oh, and she looked rather ravishing. Of course, she would if she was planning on seeing her betrothed..."

So she knows, he thought to himself, and that's why she's acting this way.

"My dearest kin looked too exquisite, you see," Orin continued, "I just couldn't keep my hands to myself."

The tyrant's stone face quickly changed to one of worry. “What… what did you do to her?”

“Patience, patience, patience, boy!” Orin growled at him, “Now, where was I…”

Enver’s composure with the changeling was wearing thin, his fingers anxiously tapping on his desk while straightening out his back.

“Ah, yes! When I had Mythrae all to myself at the Temple of Bhaal. If only her guard was higher, hm? She wouldn't have been such an easy whore for me."

“You did not…” He started, struggling to find the words he wanted to say.

“Oh, yes I did!” She cut him off before he found his voice. "And you should have heard her cries for help, they were quite lovely!”

He watched as his reflection reached for their head, the sick sound of cracking neck bones pounding against his eardrums, and now his lover stood before him.

“Gortash, no! Please, stop! It hurts!” He heard Mythrae’s voice leaving the changeling's lips.

He could feel his anger boiling through his entire body as the sound of her voice filled his thoughts.

“Enough of this!" He yelled, his tapping fingers now balling into a fist. "Tell me where she is!”

“What, you don’t want to hear more about how you deflowered her?” Orin teased, taking her arms and pushing everything off of Gortash's desk. She laid her body — Mythrae's body — on top of it, lying back like she was relaxing in a field of flowers.

“How I plucked all her petals using your body, like a child to a daisy," she reached up and pulled at the air with her fingers, "pluck, pluck, pluck, until I made a mess of her? The audience truly loved the show!"

"I wish to hear of no such horrendous things. I only want to know where Mythrae is." He repeated his request, doing all that he could to hold back his rage for the Bhaalspawn.

"Oh, if only you could have seen her face, Gortash." She drabbled on, ignoring him. "The look of betrayal she gave me when I had her trapped on Bhaal's altar, how her face contorted in pain when I first ent-"

"What happened to her? Out with it!"

“And when I could use her no more, after she was spent," Orin pulled out a short sword, tainted dark red, "I took my very favorite blade, and sliced her head right open!”

Gortash froze in his seat, processing the words she spoke.

Did Orin... kill her?

"Oh, and her blood was so warm as I felt it spill out of her skull. Delicious indeed. A moment I will cherish with my very favorite blood-kin!"

He still was at a complete loss for words, staring at Mythrae's form lying in front of him.

"... though it is a shame, really." She tutted while toying with her blade. "She was no true Chosen if she was able to let you in and distract herself from her real purpose. I will not be as easily swayed, Lord Gortash." Her skin began to shift once more, the changeling back in her original form as she sat up on his desk, spreading her legs wide open for him.

In some grotesque form of seduction, she placed the blade of her short sword in between her legs and rubbed it against her armored mound. Gortash watched as her fingers tightened around the hilt as she moaned dramatically, getting off from the pressure on her arousal, as well as the eyes of the dark haired man watching her.

Vile, wretched woman.

"As if I would ever bed with someone like you." He uttered as he looked away, disgusted at the slightest thought of touching her skin in any sort intimate way.

"I have my ways, Little Tyrant." She hissed in disapproval, turning away from him and sliding her body off his desk. "If I could take your pretty little wife all to myself, I can take you, too."

In that moment, Lord Enver Gortash lost all control.

“Fuck you, Orin." His words were filled with poison, "You are no true Chosen of Bhaal. You’re an imposter!”

“Angry, are we?" Orin laughed, licking the essence of her arousal off her blade. "Be careful now, for we need to work together. Unless you think that I should become the Archduchess? You and I would have so much fun together."

In a fit of rage, Gortash reached for chalice on the floor and threw it at the dastardly changeling. Before the glass left his hands, Orin already had her fingers wrapped around her ring, and he heard the glass shattering into pieces against the wall.

With a displeased sigh, he fell back in his chair, still in shock of it all. Being forced to work with Orin the Red. His future as the Archduke potentially at risk. His woman, his love, his equal stolen from him.

He didn’t even know if she was alive, though he assumed if Orin got her hands on her, she was as good as gone.

He filled his head with thoughts of her, in much happier times. The first time he saw her, when he had completely bewitched him by her looks alone. When they kissed for the first time, right in his office. When he first told her that he loved her, the way her eyes sparkled — one red and one grey — as she repeated his words back to him. That night when they looked over Baldur's Gate as he slid the ring on her finger, when she had promised herself to him.

They were supposed to rule together. They were supposed to have a family together. But now, it was as good as gone.

Gortash was not a crying man. Being a politician, he kept most of his emotions locked away. And even then, he never liked to shed tears, for he felt it was a sign of weakness in a man.

Tonight, he cried. Oh, hells, he cried.

Tomorrow, it would be back to business as usual. He had a plan, after all, and although he needed the help of Orin the Red, he intended to follow through. He would not become a failure like so many others before him.

But for now, he wept in his chair as the new moon rose above the city, mourning the loss of his one true love.

#some angst for your Saturday night :)#enver gortash #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #mythrae's oc #orin the red #the dark urge #the dark urge spoilers #bg3 dark urge #dark urge spoilers #dark urge #mythrae writes

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thesoulesscollection · 5 months ago

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Beat The Hand That Sins (Thsc Choc Fic)

Heya! Here's a little writer's blurb. I wanted to write a piece depicting the turbulent dynamic between Candy with her grandson, Choc.

By the way, please read the tags, Candy isn't a good person, she's very flawed, traumatized even, and downright abusive, most if not all having it directed at Choc.

Choc ‘fun fact’ is he's ambidextrous, is able to write with both hands fluidly yet naturally born a leftie and has a better preference for it.

Choc's the type of person who will talk about his trauma in a almost positively cheerful way, brushing it off as a joke he could laugh at now while anyone around him is highly uncomfortable and concerned by

^ Although at first, his advice would come out as helpful, if some were to really think deeper into what he says, it's far from so. It's one that's twisted up by trauma under the fatherly guise of ‘knowing what's best’ for people.

Tw/Tags: Heavy Angst, Whump, Graphic Child Abuse/Neglect, Corporal Punnishments, Physical Abuse, Verbal Insults, Dehumanizing Language, Abusive Familial Relationships, & Implied Religious Themes

1967: Choc, 11yo & Candy, 66yo

On the ground, curled up in a tight little ball, Choc's wheezing, his good eye not swollen shut is fixated to the wall ahead. Breathing ragged he stayed still, emotionless, crying won't protect him. Soon thereafter he goes imaging happy thoughts, more a sweetened escape from cruel reality until it breaks apart by the fantastical seams once he hears her voice.

“Get up you inept brat”

It's what kept him relatively sane for the most part. Until his grandmother hovers above his twisted little form with clear disdain. The ugly sneer on her wrinkled face, her strong french accent clipped in impatience at his sorry state, and gloved fists tells him it was far from over.

“G-grammy… Please”

A harsh scoff and her cold hand pinch around the back of his neck, immediately it shuts him up. Choc should've known better than to talk back, past experiences such as this reminds him as only pain will come to him if he chose to be stubborn. When he's made to stand on unsteady feet, nearly buckling under him, he does feel himself sway a little. Though that is when the backhanded slap across his face on the good side, not yet badly bruised such as with the other, elicits a startled gasp.

“How many times do I have to remind you to not be so careless? To not speak unless you are spoken to?”

Wincing at the sting freshly blossoming in his round cheeks, Choc swallowed back the pain, silently nodding along. Best not to show what hurts, always better to tough out, pray that it won't be too bad. Last time around the age of six, stupidly having been brought up through heavy wails, he was in pain and couldn't feel his legs. His grandmother decided to give him a plentiful amount of lashes on his back, on each corresponding limb, and left him to sleep in the mess that's meshed with his tears, snot, and other ungodly bodily fluids.

After a while the punishments, getting severe with each passing year, eventually do tend to blur together. Is it bad he stopped caring or rather no longer felt a thing?

Choc pushed it back to the recess of his mind.

“I shouldn't be expecting anything highly from you, should I?”

Once again the boy responds mutely, keeping his gaze locked on the ground, fingers digs in the old unwashed shirt worn daily, smelling of rotting stink. She barely allows him to clean in the idea he was at fault for his messy disarray so he shouldn't be rewarded with cleanliness or anything remotely caring. Unless he pleads his case to her, pathetically miserable it may be to earn her forgiveness which would never be granted, he still does it and will do chores galore, even if it would last from dawn to dusk to do all. But desperation called upon so, he'll work down to the bone, exhausted terribly he can sleep anywhere.

“You're a freakish imp in disguise of the devil's making. How can I be so blind not to see this. Your underhanded antics and cynical attitude” She rambled in vile anger. “What you wrote to deface me, our family and over what we believe”

This whole (one-sided) argument and physical discourse started because the elderly woman had taken note of his left hand at work, writing in a little journal in his room. A raggedy book yellowing in aged use was his only safe place to scribble away his inner worries. She read it, every page detailing his feelings, his thoughts on her, the family's fight over social standing, and the religion she prayed on her knees so rigorously over. Now it's been torn to shreds and he was beat for it.

“What you wrote was deplorable. Sinful. You don't dare begin to understand and know what I've done for you and your sister to be where we are now” While the woman firmly persists, her wide frame easily shadows his who's back is pressed flat against the wall. “You shall be thankful you are here in the first place, to be at mercy you aren't completely feeble such as with your mother. If it wasn't for our holiness, you wouldn't be a thing”

Choc curled away, his shaky hands clenched to fists, fighting the weak urge to cry, took this as a cue to speak, “I'm sorry”

“And what did I tell you, boy, about using your left hand?”

His right protectively covered the left hand, his cheeks were lit on the fire of shame. “I-I don't like writing with my right hand… It's. It's was un-u-uncomfortable”

“Give me your left hand” She orders, given no room for argument yet Choc resists, laying his left hand deep into his chest. “Now”

“I-I forget! Please!”

No matter what he says or goes to do, she is quicker to grab him by the ear, neck, arm, or in this case, his matted blond hair. Then she went for his left arm and got roughly yanked behind him, Choc for sure heard the bone in his shoulder pop. A pained hiss presses out his clenched teeth when she decides to throw his thin body on the nearest table. He faintly hears past the ringing in his ears, the rattling of a chest drawer open, she's in a desperate search for something. The tingling ache in his limp arm already tells him she dislocated it, he panics over the realization. Breath caught in his throat Choc squeezes his eyes shut.

Though in hesitancy, he cracks one eye open a smidge to see what his grandmother literally brought to the table, being a long slender stick made from smooth metal. Anxiously switching his blurry sight to his left hand as it lays on the table, palm flat on the bumpy oak surface.

“You made me do this. Take this as a learning experience as it hurts me more than it will for you”

Eventually Choc is pulled away from the table, his free hand, his right, the proper respectable one, grips the corner for dear life. In a sudden he was close to doubling over, bruised knees knocking together, almost giving out once the metal hits skin. Not his left hand but instead it is directed at back, likely used as a sly tactic to surprise him to alertness. She knows the boy slips into another state of mind.

“I want you to at least be conscious with me to learn your lesson. So stand up proper, I ask of you to keep your eyes on the wall and repeat to me the number of lashes I give you”

With a shake of the head, tremors is what it's called, Choc simply does what's asked of him, straightens his slumped posture and he blinks away the tears. Arm outstretched, hand ready to take the lashes, he steadies himself to take the punishments given. Rather he should be thankful she's merciful to primarily give his left hand and back the treatment. Although having been beaten to an inch of his life, she can no doubt be crueler about it.

“O-One!”

Voice cracks to an inhuman pitch which Choc grew embarrassed by, biting down at his lips hard enough to bleed. Grandma Candy is at his side, hearing his groggy whines with keen precision, no considerations, and it earns him another hit. This time, probably miscalculated, though it wouldn't really take him by surprise if it wasn't, she aims for his upper arm, a sliver of a long cut slashed across his forearm.

“Two!” He calls out. Then another two right after. “Three! Four!”

Soon he loses count. Mind went cloudy with time and intensity. However she won't lighten up. All Choc knows is how his voice follows in repeating the number of lashes the metal ruler gives him. Musky sweat profusely seeped out cut pores, the sour scent lingers heavy in the air.

In due time, she tires herself out, her old body can't keep up as it once was in her younger years.

Choc heaves a broken sigh, unable to pull his locked gaze from the wall.

Whatever his poor ailing mother had to deal with when she was alive, in her own childhood must've been ten times worse so he doesn't think harder on it. He wanted to do his best to preserve a positive memory of his mother and not sully himself into the idea his treatment was worse than hers.

“Do you apologize and reap for what you sow with bad intentions?”

“Yes, I have” Choc stumbled a little. Left hand was swollen and bruised like a bad fruit. Any movement whether small or big, even with an involuntary twitch caused him to wince. Likely the bruises will last for a couple weeks and he can take it in if it's broken. Either way he isn't looking forward to anything in the future. The side eyed glares and his need to give them half baked excuses.

“Good. You do realize I do this for you to learn that you can't keep biting the hand that feeds and cares for you? One day and it always will return to slap you back down to the fiery pits of hell”

As she dutifully promised he wouldn't be able to write as well as any remaining sinful deeds with said hand. It took a longer period for him to get remotely accustomed to using his right hand; it still was like a chainsaw to butter but he got there to garner less scrutiny.

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twistedtummies2 · 1 year ago

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Natural Predators (Trade; Implied Vore)

So...this is something a little different. I'm labeling this as "Implied Vore" because...no ACTUAL vore occurs. This was an interesting challenge: @hooter-n-company and I were chatting about an idea involving her OC boi, Taoka Latronis (who may be remembered as the antagonist of the four part story "Glamour"), encountering the Octavinelle Trio. Taoka, of course, is based on Tamatoa from "Moana," and is a crab person. I remind you that octopi and eels are very, VERY noteworthy predators of crabs. You can guess where the conversation went from there. ;) Anyway, the challenge of this was writing a story where the implications were there, and I could have fun with a lot of voracious TEASING...but to NOT actually include the act itself in any way, shape, or form. That, to me, sounded like something unique to attempt, and the concept of Taoka meeting these three scheming louses and the fun one could have with the issue was very appealing and funny to me. So, I agreed to write it, and sort of squeeeeeezed it in-between comms, since I didn't think it would be too taxing or take me too long. The story ended up almost 8000 words in length, which...is actually the cap I put on commissions, meaning it was QUITE long. Go figure. XD I finished it all in one day, which is very unusual for me. I usually don't get THAT much work done in just one day, so it shows how much juice there was flowing for this concept. ANYWAY...hope you all enjoy Taoka meeting three of his worst nightmares at Night Raven College. ;) P.S.: If you recognize the song Taoka sings at one point in the story...good. LOL

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A cheerful, peppy whistle came from a lone figure, who stalked through the unusually quiet halls of Octavinelle. The figure in question was a student of NRC…but closer inspection of the young man’s uniform quickly indicated he didn’t belong in the undersea dorm. The indigo-hued vest, accompanied by a red-and-indigo-striped arm ribbon, showed that he was a member of Pomefiore. The glamorous makeup, golden pieces of jewelry, and highly-stylized, strange purple hair, all certainly lent credence to his participation in a dorm largely devoted to fashion and spectacle. With that said, Taoka Latronis mostly felt quite at home in this dorm. He smiled as he peered out through the glass walls at the ocean beyond. While currently in his humanoid guise, the crab boy in disguise felt a certain familiar warmth in his chest as he gazed out at the vast expanse of coral. Unlike some decapods, he very much liked the water…but then again, just “some decapod” had never exactly described him, or so he proudly believed. “I could get used to bein’ around here,” mumbled Taoka, nodding to himself as he swaggered along with an easy-breezy sort of stride. The guitar case strapped to his back bounced slightly as he went. He felt his posture straighten with almost every step as he drew nearer and nearer to his chosen location. “Feels like I’m back on top o’ the food chain…right in my natural habitat…heh. Bet I could show some o’ the seafood here who’s boss, if given the chance…” The mention of the word “seafood” ushered a rumble from his belly. Taoka hummed to himself and licked his plump, painted lips, but soon shook his head, stance dipping as he glanced about carefully. Despite his egotistical words, he wasn’t TOTALLY comfortable here. After all…he wasn’t the apex predator in THIS dorm. It was a risk he felt willing to take, however. He’d only just recently escaped the time under house arrest that his dorm leader, Vil, had put him under, following the “Triple-S Debacle.” Now that he was free to go places, Taoka had decided it was time to take action in following his dreams and figuring out his personal desires and ambitions. In short…he needed a place to practice his music. Preferably, a place with an audience, where he could sing and/or play…and perhaps even make a little money on the side. Hey, money spoke to him…especially coins…shiny, beautiful, sparkling coins… Taoka had frozen in place at the thought, his eyes shimmering at the mere thought…then he smacked his cheek and blushed slightly, embarrassed with himself. “Keep it together, babe,” he muttered to himself. “Ya don’t wanna blow this audition. Wasn’t easy for the Housewarden to get it for ya…”

Indeed, it had been Vil who had - with surprising generosity - arranged the interview Taoka was heading to: the on-campus restaurant, the Mostro Lounge, had announced that it was going to be seeking performers for a live house band. Before this, all music at the Lounge simply came from the radio playing over the loudspeakers. Now, for at least some part of the day, there would be live musical accompaniment for diners to enjoy. Taoka had all but leapt at the chance…but had hesitated when he realized where the Lounge was. Surprisingly, Taoka had never come to Octavinelle before, let alone the Mostro Lounge. He didn’t know much about the place, except that it was supposed to be a very ritzy sort of joint. He had no idea who ran the restaurant…although he DID know who ran Octavinelle. For his fellow Pomefiore students, the shudder of fear that went through him at the thought of THEM was a total mystery…but anyone with knowledge of marine biology would probably guess the reason. “It’s alright,” Taoka said to himself, taking a deep breath as he came nearer and nearer to the famous place. “Just keep calm an’ show ‘em yer stuff. Long as THEY aren’t around, ya got nothin’ to fear. Heh…in fact, they oughta be afraid of YOU. That’s right, babe! You go in an’ show ‘em yer stuff…an’ if they don’t like it? Maybe ya got other ways of makin’ sure you see eye to eye…” Snickering with wicked anticipation, Taoka picked up his pace, adjusting the guitar case strap. It was only moments later that he finally found himself at the Lounge. Unlike the halls, the fine restaurant was packed full of chattering customers, all laughing and gabbing between bites of food and sips of fruity drinks. Chandeliers with lights shaped like jellyfish provided an almost ethereal illumination to the place, accompanied by the bioluminescent algae beyond the huge pane of glass on one of the walls, like a giant aquarium. Taoka whistled, impressed by the expertly-made, expensive-looking furnishings and rich decor. “Whew! This place is even fancier than I figured,” he chuckled. He sniffed at the air…and then let out what could only be described as a sort of wincing sigh as he picked up the scent of seafood and other savory things. His empty belly whined needily, and he gave it a pat, rubbing at it through his vest and shirt. “Easy there, stomach,” he almost pouted. “Yer gonna get plenty to play with soon enough. Business first.” Nodding to himself, Taoka stepped further into the Lounge, and looked around. It wasn’t long till he saw an employee - dressed in the almost mafia-esque costume of an Octavinelle Dorm Uniform - standing at the reception desk. However, they seemed to be a bit more concerned with the cellphone in their hands than with any new arrivals. Taoka smirked and approached the desk, knocking on it with his gloved hand. “Hey,” he grunted. “Eyes up here, babe.”

The receptionist yelped, fumbling with their phone and jolting slightly. Taoka’s smirk widened as his eyes narrowed; a quick look up and down the student’s form showed him the familiar sight of a seagull’s feathered tail, sprouting from the small of their back. The gull demi had a round face and a plump body, with eyes of a warm, rich, yellow-amber color; the sweet hue of honey. “Oh! Uh…h-hello there, sir,” the gull-demi chirped out, quickly trying to compose himself. “Welcome to the Mostro Lounge. Do you have a reservation?” Taoka hummed in the back of his throat as he leaned forward on the reception desk. The gull took a step back, tail twitching nervously. Taoka’s smirk became a full-on grin, as he noticed the way the little bird boy - about the same age as himself, but noticeably smaller in height - gazed at him with flustered apprehension. His belly rumbled yet again, this time in a lower, almost ominous fashion: while humans could not always recognize it, beast-people of all sorts seemed programmed to recognize their natural predators no matter what form they took. Sometimes it was a scent thing, other times a case of close observation, and still other times it just seemed to be an innate instinct. Either way…crabs like him and little, adorable gulls didn’t exactly get along. And the anxiety in the receptionist’s eyes indicated which side each occupied on the food web. “More of an appointment, really,” Taoka practically purred, his voice smooth and slippery. “Got a Taoka Latronis written down somewhere…” Taoka quickly glanced at the name tag the desk worker wore. “...Larin?” The gull boy - Larin - timidly moved to pick up a clipboard, and scanned through the papers it held. He looked up at Taoka a few times, worriedly; Taoka just smiled patiently. “It’s okay, babe,” he cooed at one point. “If there’s any vacancies…I could just stay for some lunch. I’m gettin’ REAL hungry…” He licked his teeth and cackled as Larin shuddered, the feathers of his tail shaking. Finally, the pudgy little gull found what he was looking for. “Ah! H-Here you are…you, um…y-you have a meeting with the boss, right?” “That’s about the size of it,” Taoka answered with a nod, and jabbed a thumb towards the guitar case on his back. “Lookin’ to become part of the house band I heard he’s making.” “W-Well…I’m sure you’ll do well,” chuckled Larin, with a nervous smile…then all but tip-toed out from behind the desk. Taoka watched every single move the little gull made as he came into full view, never once blinking, his smile remaining sly, seductive, and more than a little predatory. “If you’ll, um…j-just follow me, please.” “Mmmm…lead the way, babe,” rumbled Taoka, in his most sultry voice. He chortled darkly at the quiver that went through the demi-bird, and followed him as Larin led the crab-in-human’s-clothing through the dining area of the Lounge.

The restaurant was large, as well as presently busy; it was not a short trip from the main part of the place to the “backstage” spaces. Taoka twined his way between waiters and customers alike…a couple times, when he saw a particularly cute face, he would give them a light, playful bump with his hip. “Sorry, babe!” he would teasingly chirp, and grin as the human or lesser beastman in question would blush and grumble. Other times, he’d catch some giving him a blushing expression, or even a somewhat frightened look. Awink and a lick of the lips made them hastily avert their eyes, for one reason or another. When he wasn’t teasing the guests and waiting staff, Taoka was smirking at Larin, who kept glancing back over his shoulder, trembling slightly, his feathered tail twitching with every other step. He inhaled and rumbled at the scent of fear that came from the young seagull-man. As they left the crowded dining space, moving past the bar into the quieter, more sparsely-populated backrooms and hall, Taoka moved to stand beside Larin rather than directly behind him. He gave a smug sort of smile to the seagull, who glanced up at him nervously…just in time to see Taoka rubbing his belly, as it let out another greedy gurgle. “Do you all serve chicken here?” he asked, innocently. “I could really go for some poultry right about now…” Larin just whimpered and didn’t answer as he looked away. Taoka sniggered and smiled toothily. He didn’t ACTUALLY plan on eating Larin…at least not today…but, oh, how DELIGHTFUL it was watching him squirm… It wasn’t too long thereafter that they finally reached the entrance to the manager’s office. It was closed off by a large and rather fancy-looking door…par the course, at this point, Taoka supposed. “I’ll go in and announce you,” Larin said, trying to keep up a businesslike tone and demeanor. Taoka nodded, and patiently leaned back against the opposite wall. As Larin entered, he couldn’t help but allow a wicked thought to enter his mind; if the employees and guests of this place were sooo easy to ruffle the feathers of (pun only partially intended), he wondered if their leader would be equally easy to scare and subdue. Oh, he’d play nice, but if they showed any sign of turning him away…well…he WAS genuinely hungry. And humans were such, SUCH good little morsels… Taoka smacked his lips at that thought, but it left almost as soon as it came…at least partially due to Larin’s reappearance as he crept back into the hall from the door. “The boss will see you now,” he said. “Thanks, babe,” Taoka replied. Larin nodded back…then stiffened, his face turning a shade of strawberry as Latronis’ one good hand swept out and cupped his cheek and part of his jawline. The taller boy leaned in close, with a smile like a sea serpent. “Y’know, you’re pretty cute,” he crooned. “Maybe sometime you an’ I can…get some lunch together?” Larin looked utterly mortified…but he was also blushing more than ever. Unable to speak, he just sputtered. Taoka laughed lightly and playfully patted him on the head. “Think about it, chicken,” he teased with a wink, and left Larin to his own devices as he stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him.

Up to now, dearest reader, Taoka had felt confident, and very pleased with himself. He had little fear as he entered the office of the master of the Mostro Lounge. But there are many sayings about those who feel perhaps too much pride, and perhaps abuse their presumed position a bit too much. A lot of them could apply here. For within a matter of about…three seconds, give or take, after entering the office…EVERYTHING changed for Taoka Latronis. Instantly, his confidence seemed to drop into his feet, as a chill fell over his spine. His swaggering peacock posture slackened, and his vainglorious smile seemed to be slapped off his face by an invisible hand. All this was in response to the tall, willowy pair of figures he saw standing ahead of him, one on either side of the large, expensive-looking desk at the other end of the VIP Room. Each was dressed in a dorm uniform, and looked almost identical, from their mismatched eyes of gold and olive, to their teal-toned hairdos, each of which bore a single long, black lock. “You two?” murmured Taoka, voice becoming somewhat shaky. The Leech Twins smiled wider in response to Taoka’s near-whispered words; Jade’s was its usual practiced, patient, cool-and-collected self. Floyd’s grin, meanwhile, showed perhaps a few too many sharp, jagged, dagger-like teeth…teeth that, if they so chose, could easily crush and stab through a crab’s shell, shattering it like fragile glass. Taoka felt nervous in an instant. Perhaps more than anyone else at all of Night Raven, he had good reason to fear the Leech Brothers. Eels, after all, were one of the most prominent natural enemies many crabs had to face. They were part of why he avoided Octavinelle, and why he’d asked Vil to kindly handle arranging the interview…but if he’d known the Twins were working at the Lounge, he wouldn’t have even gone that far. Already, the musician felt his rung on the food chain ladder get lower…he was pondering if he really wanted to stay in the room, when the manager had such fearsome help… …But before he could question this too deeply, a voice finally spoke up. It was smooth and luxurious, but with a certain bold quality that was hard to define. It came from the figure who sat with his back to Taoka, in a large, plush-looking swivel armchair that was presently turned away from the young half-decapod. Over the top of the chair’s back - which, itself, was covered by what looked like a huge gray trenchcoat - Latronis could catch a glimpse of silvery hair. “Never mind them,” the voice from the chair said. “Come in…come in, Mr. Latronis! No need to be shy. After all, we mustn’t lurk in doorways. It’s rude. One can’t make business arrangements like this…” A slender hand, clad in what looked like a white kid glove, stretched out from behind the chair, dropping what appeared to be a manilla folder onto the desk behind the figure. It sat beside a dark-colored fedora. Then, the chair turned around, revealing the bespectacled figure - garbed in a black three-piece suit - who occupied the seat. Eyes the color of the deep blue sea itself zeroed in on Taoka, as a devious, duplicitous smile slid across soft, plump-looking lips, which quirked over a tiny birthmark near the chin. “...Without seeing each other face to face.”

Every drop of color seemed to drain from Taoka Latronis’ face as he immediately recognized the lithe, somewhat curvy person whom he now realized ran the Mostro Lounge. His heart seemed to jump up a few beats as his breath hitched. Every ounce of confidence he still held after seeing the Leech Twins vanished in a split second as terror gripped his very soul. “A-Azul…Ashengrotto?” he exclaimed, his voice unusually high-pitched as it cracked and squeaked. Azul merely smiled wider, folding his hands before him on his desk as he raised one eyebrow. “Yes, that would be me,” he replied. “And I’m glad to see my reputation precedes me.” “Ha Ha Ha! Little Crab Cake makes such silly sooouuunds!” sang out Floyd, grinning and giggling at the squeaky tone of Taoka’s voice. “He usually sounds all cool, but now he’s making noises like a scared flounder! It’s almost cuuuute!” “Now, now, Floyd,” tutted Jade, his own smile and posture completely unchanged. “We mustn’t tease a client. Especially not under such circumstances. I imagine he’s quite nervous enough, considering he’s in a room with three of his kind’s most dangerous and feared natural predators. We must make him feel comfortable. Isn’t that right, Azul?” “Of course,” purred Azul in reply, as he and Jade shared a rather sneaky look with each other. “Just like any client.” He then looked back at Taoka, who was still standing, with knees almost knocking together, near the doorway. “And you ARE a client, aren’t you, Mr. Latronis?” he crooned. Taoka had to repress the urge to let out a moaning, groaning sound of pure, ever-rising dread. Eels were bad enough company for a crab like him…but octopi? They were another story. Above all others in Night Raven College, the mere THOUGHT of the Octopus - of Azul - made Taoka Latronis whimper. In the wild, while crabs had several predators, few were as purely nightmarish as cephalopods: it wasn’t just that they ate crabs that made them frightening. It was the manners and the “morals” (one must note the quotation marks) that octopi had, when feasting on crustaceans, which made them so particularly horrible. Cecaelia like Azul were not much better…in fact, as they had humanoid intelligence, and not just animal hunting instincts, they were arguably even worse. “Helloooo?” Floyd’s voice cut through Taoka’s grim musings. He tilted his head, his smile disappearing as he blinked owlishly. “Ehhhh? What’s the matter, Crab Cake? Catfish got your tongue?” “Perhaps he’s simply speechless at being given the opportunity,” suggested Jade, oh-so-sweetly. Taoka just gulped nervously. “Y-Yeah, well…um…I…” His words failed him. They felt foreign and faint in his own mouth. Floyd’s smile returned and he heard Jade chuckle under his breath. Azul shook his head with apparent amusement, adjusting his glasses in his usual tic. “Come now, Mr. Latronis,” he soothed. “Compose yourself. You came here to audition, didn’t you?” “I…I did, yeah…just…j-just…” “Just what?” Taoka bit his lip before, in an unusually soft voice, admitting: “I didn’t…think I’d be…au-auditioning f-f-for…you.”

Azul blinked just once, cocking his head ever so slightly to the right. “I am the dorm leader of Octavinelle,” he reminded Taoka, in a calm, patient way. “Did you really think anybody else would be in charge of this place? Vil said you wanted to interview with the manager. I am the manager. And the owner. And the Housewarden. In short…no one else COULD be in charge.” Taoka blinked twice…then felt his cheeks heat up as he looked down almost guiltily at his shoes, and kicked at an invisible rock. “Y’know, in hindsight, that’s a good point,” he mumbled under his breath. All three of the Octavinelle trio laughed softly. Azul stretched out a hand, gesturing towards the large, well-cushioned sofas in the center of the room as he rose from his desk. "“Sit down,” he invited. Taoka paused only a moment longer, and then began to take a few steps forward…but on the third step, he saw Azul’s smile widen, and a flicker of what he swore could only be the look of someone who had successfully lured their prey into a trap flashed in those deep blue eyes. Something about that simple gesture IMMEDIATELY killed any amount of courage the crab had. “On second thought, I-I think I’m a little too early!” he suddenly blurted out, and spun around on his heel before briskly marching towards the door. “I’ll just c-come back later, I’m sure you’re very busy-YEEP!” Taoka froze and cowered as - seemingly out of nowhere - Floyd and Jade moved to block the door and bar his way. Each of the twins wore matching fanged smiles that made Taoka’s blood run cold…he felt goosebumps prickle his skin and began to tremble anew as he heard Jade’s stomach bubble, and saw Floyd’s tongue trace the tips of his pointed teeth… …Then the crab boy stiffened and flinched as a long, lean-but-well-toned arm draped itself across his shoulders. With obvious foreboding on his face, Taoka looked to see who the arm belonged to…and thought he might faint as he found Azul Ashengrotto’s smiling face only inches away from his own. “Nonsense, nonsense!” sang Azul, waving his other hand around in a flippant gesture. “I’m never too busy to discuss a potential new employee. And from what your Housewarden tells me, you could be a great…asset to me.” Taoka peeped as he felt Azul’s hip bump against him on those words. He’d teased enough “preythings” to know what that combo of words and gestures meant. “But…but…I’m not so sure that-” “Come,” Azul interrupted, in a firm voice, and Taoka felt the hand on his shoulder grip more tightly, hinting at the octopus’ harnessed strength…something very few at Night Raven ever suspected, given his aversion to great physical exertion. “Have a seat.” Azul thus led Taoka to the twin couches in the center of the office. The whole time, his smile never faded, and he never blinked, smiling at Taoka with a sort of thinly-veiled anticipation. Taoka gave a very, VERY nervous smile in return; already he could imagine that collected smirk transforming into a gaping set of jaws, ready to consume him, or a set of tentacles forming from where the octo-man’s legs were, ready to ensnare him…but such nightmarish imagery did not come to pass. Still, Taoka found it hard to relax, even as he sat on the (admittedly VERY nice and well-cushioned) sofa. Azul sat directly across from him, prim and proper. Taoka considered rising and trying to make another break for it…but he felt the presence of the Leech Twins behind him before he could act on it.

“Now then,” Azul began, crossing his arms over his chest and slinging one leg over the other as he leaned back in his own seat. “Is there anything you want to say before we start?” The question sounded a bit too much like Azul was asking him if he had any last words for Taoka’s personal comfort. Nevertheless, Taoka realized that there was no turning back now: he removed his guitar case and placed it on the seat beside him on the sofa. He was here for an audition, it was time to get serious. Still scared, the crabby youth tried to compose himself, straightening his posture and opening his mouth to speak…only to be interrupted when his stomach let out a VERY loud and greasy gurgle. Azul’s smile fell in an instant, his eyes widening. Now worried the sound would ruin the interview, Taoka’s nerves rang alarm bells…but before he could apologize, Floyd’s face suddenly lurched into view, as the gangly eel-man dropped his head onto the back of the couch, chin in his folded arms as he looked directly into the seated decapod’s purple eyes. “Awww…is Crab Cake hungryyyyy?” crooned Floyd. Breath that stank too much OF crab cakes puffed into Taoka’s face, making the musician cough briefly. Nervously, he nodded. Azul tutted and shook his head. “Oh, dear…I hate conducting business when my client has an empty stomach,” he declared, and smiled indulgently. “Would you care for a bite?” Taoka was very, VERY afraid of answering that question, with so many crab-munching creatures surrounding and smiling at him…but he finally managed to nod, tugging on his collar afterwards. Had it gotten warmer in this room…? “Ah…ha ha…i-if by that ya mean a totally normal, not-involving-my-shell kind of snack, then…I guess I wouldn’t mind,” he said. He tried to sound like he was joking, but somehow he knew he had failed. Azul let out a sort of scoffing laugh. “Of course,” he replied. He seemd almost offended. “Really, I’m not like those fuzzy mongrels in Savanaclaw. You don’t think I’d seriously consider taking a bite out of a possible employee, do you?” “Yeah! We just swallow them whole!” teased Floyd. “Floyd, don’t fib,” Jade scolded, but his own smile never disappeared once. “You know the rules: we don’t eat them till AFTER they fail an interview.” Taoka felt like his lungs were seizing up at those words. Azul just sighed and rolled his eyes, looking almost mournful. “Ignore them,” he advised, seriously. “They do this sort of thing ALL the time.” Taoka said nothing. He silently wondered if “interviewees” made it out of this office alive all the time, too.

“Jade, if you’re quite done terrorizing our guest and client, could you perhaps see about having some of the special served in here, along with an appropriate drink of choice.” “Will sparkling lemonade suffice?” Jade asked, politely. “Yes, that should do nicely,” Azul nodded, and smiled back at Taoka. “No objections?” “N-Nope! None here, um…boss. Uh, c-can I call you boss?” Azul narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. It was hard to tell what he was thinking about that question. “I think, for now, you can simply call me Azul,” he replied, and then smiled. “After all, upperclassman or not, possible employer or not, we ARE both students of Night Raven College.” The fact Azul had not mentioned the fact he was a superior predator, as well, helped put Taoka a little more at ease. But only a little. Jade bowed to Azul respectfully, then turned to his brother. “Come on, Floyd. I’ll carry the food, you can carry the drinks.” “Ehhhh? Can’t you do it yourself?” pouted Floyd. “Yes, if necessary, but it’s much easier when there’s two,” Jade replied, as if he were speaking to a small child. “But I wanna stay and play with Crab Cake!” whined Floyd, and grinned at Taoka right afterwards. “Maybe I could give him a nice friendly squeeze, huuuuh? See if he’s easier to break in human form than in crab form? I bet he’d be all…CRUNCHY…” If Floyd’s words didn’t scare the Hades out of Taoka, the smile on his face certainly did…but it seemed Jade was in no mood for his brother’s nonsense as, without warning, he stretched out a hand and grabbed Floyd by the ear. “AH! H-HEY! HEY, LEMME GO!” squealed Floyd, scrabbling to break free. Jade just shook his head in amusement, and smiled a calm, tranquil smile as he bowed his head to Taoka, as if this was all totally casual and completely everyday. “Apologies for his forwardness,” he replied. “I’ll be back shortly with some vittles, as requested.” Taoka just blinked. “Uh…r-right, that’s…that’s good, thanks.” Jade smiled a tiny bit wider, then turned and dragged the still yelping and complaining Floyd out of the room, shutting the door to the VIP office behind them both.

Now, the crab was alone with the octopus. For a few moments there was an awkward silence between them. Azul smiled. Just smiled. Taoka noticed the way the restauranteur’s blue eyes seemed to scan up and down his own body. “Ah…m-may I ask you a question?” stammered Taoka, hoping to break the uncomfortable quiet. “If you feel you must,” replied Azul, somewhat cryptically. “How come you agreed to hear me out?” Taoka asked. “I mean…do you just trust Vil’s judgment that much?” “Well, yes, for one thing, I do,” Azul replied, frankly, folding his hands in his lap. “Not only do I consider him to be a particularly dependable and intelligent Housewarden, but I believe he is the single most discerning judge of talent, particularly where the arts are concerned, on the entire campus. The only other person who might rival him there is Professor Crewel. So if he takes the time to recommend someone, even obliquely, I listen.” Taoka nodded in understanding. He supposed all that sounded logical enough. “Besides,” Azul went on, quite casually, but with a smile that was perhaps just slightly too broad, “Based on his description, I could hardly let someone with such good taste go without a chance.” The crab-man quivered till his golden necklace rattled. He really didn’t like the way Azul emphasized three of those words. “Well…wh-what is that chance going to involve?” he asked at length. Azul paused, as if pondering how to answer…but before he could, the door opened up again. Jade and Floyd re-entered the office, one carrying a silver platter, and the other a pair of drinks.

“For your dining pleasure, gentlemen,” purred Jade, as he placed the platter in the center of the glass-topped table, and opened the lid, revealing a steaming dish of freshly-made shrimp scampi. “Yeah, yeah, here ya go,” grumbled Floyd, apparently still grouchy over his earlier treatment as he handed both Taoka and Azul their glasses of sparkling lemonade. He then plucked a couple pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and gave them to each. Azul placed his chopsticks on the table…then removed one of his gloves, revealing his long, sturdy, yet elegant fingers. Taoka watched as Azul plucked one piece of shrimp up off the plate between his forefinger and thumb, and lifted it up to his face. He paused, smiling as he inspected the piece of seafood…before opening his mouth and tossing the entire shrimp inside. Taoka could hear the sound of Azul’s teeth mulching the cooked meat before a soft swallow sent the masticated stuff down his throat. “Excellent,” he judged, and wiped his fingers on a napkin before replacing the glove on his hand as he looked at the Leech Brothers. “Tell the cooks they’ve done a fine job, when we’re done here.” Jade bowed and murmured that it would be done. Floyd just snorted, placing his hands behind his head and rolling his eyes. “Go ahead,” Ashengrotto urged Latronis, who had watched all of this with rapt attention. He picked up his glass of lemonade as he spoke, tilting it towards Taoka as if in toast. “Try some. You can eat while I explain how this is going to work.” Taoka hesitated for just a moment; the food smelled delicious, but something about the showy way Azul had eaten his first bite had bothered him. Of course, if any of the three had wanted to poison him, it seemed unlikely they’d do so this way. So, he lifted his chopsticks and plucked a piece of shrimp from the scampi. He popped it into his mouth…and immediately felt some his tension ease up as he chewed and swallowed it. The savory, spicy, buttery seasoning filled his mouth with a wonderful flavor, and the shrimp itself was cooked to perfection, with an excellent texture. “Well?” asked Azul, as he took a sip of lemonade. “It’s…it’s REALLY good,” smiled Taoka, trying to hold back just how delicious he thought it all was. “I know,” smiled Azul, but he still seemed pleased to hear it. “Perhaps sometime we can give you a nice sampler; plenty of food to go with one of those.” “I doubt that would be such a good idea,” Jade spoke up. “The sampler does include crab meat.” “Ewww, that’d be like one of us eating smoked eel,” sneered Floyd. “And we all know eel tastes so much better raw,” grinned Jade, diabolically. “Huh?” Floyd blinked in confusion. “Nothing,” said Jade, innocently.

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be toooooo bad, either way,” shrugged Floyd, and grinned toothily. “I mean, crabs DO eat other crabs, yeeeaaah?” “Boys, as amusing as it is to hear you both go on like that, I think our guest is going to be ill if you keep that up,” drawled Azul. “Apologies,” said Jade. Floyd just yawned, boredly. Taoka swallowed his mouthful of shrimp and chased it down with some lemonade. The flavor of the citrus drink helped chase away his anxiety. “So…again, I have to ask, how is this going to work?” he inquired after a few bites of food, the emptiness in his belly replaced with a warm and filling feeling. Azul took another sip of his own drink before finally answering: “This audition will proceed more or less like a typical audition, I suppose: you will play and sing a song of your choice. I will listen, along with my friends here.” He indicated Floyd and Jade. “Once you have finished, I shall give you a brief critique of what I heard, and declare if you’re suitable for a role in the house band I want to put together,” Azul went on, lightly stirring his drink with a twist of his wrist. “If I decide that you are, then I’ll take you on here at the Lounge for three unpaid weeks. Got that? Three. Weeks. A ‘trial run,’ so to speak. And if, after those three weeks, I determine your skills are sufficient and the audiences like you, I’ll keep you on - paid work, this time - for the remainder of the semester and into the next term. After that, you would need to re-apply.” Taoka mumbled something through a full mouth and stuffed cheeks…then, when he saw the frowns on the trio’s faces, he realized he was talking with his mouth full and couldn’t be understood. He hastily swallowed, stifling a belch in one fist. “Ahem…that, uh…th-that sounds reasonable,” he said. He paused, then thought to ask, “What if I fail, at any point? Today or later on?” Azul shrugged, once again waving a hand about airily. “Oh, I just…throw a little salt on you, and then gobble you up! HA HA HA HA HA HA!” The head of Octavinelle exploded into cackling laughter…then stopped abruptly when he saw the look of absolute horror on Taoka’s face. His smile vanished and was replaced with an almost bored look. “I’m jesting, merely jesting.” “O-Oh. Right.” “It’s an audition. If you fail, you simply go back to your dorm room and have to find another avenue, like any other case such as this. As for the end of those three weeks, if you get them…” Azul smirked. “Well…we’ll worry about that if it even becomes a problem.”

“I see,” Taoka replied, and nodded in agreement. “Alright. I…I think all that sounds fair.” “Excellent,” Azul said, and put down his drink before snapping his fingers. A moment later, Jade and Floyd were suddenly sitting on either side of him on the couch; one sat straight and proper, while the other threw his heels up onto the table…at least until Azul coughed and ordered him to get them off. Floyd then rolled his eyes and obeyed. “As soon as you are ready,” Azul said, steepling his hands as he leaned back. “We’re all ears.” Taoka paused…then sighed through his nose. He had rather hoped he’d have more time to eat…but he guessed it was time to get down to business. His heart was still beating very quickly as he pulled his guitar out of its case and positioned it. He glanced repeatedly at the trio as he adjusted the strings. He had not felt this much pressure since his time onstage at the Triple-S…indeed, he wasn’t sure he had EVER felt this much pressure. Despite Azul’s words, the presence of the three higher predators made it harder for him to feel totally relaxed…and besides, just because AZUL claimed he wouldn’t do anything, that didn’t say anything about the Leech Twins. Whether he was playing for his life, or playing for a chance at a job, this was going to be perhaps the most important audition he’d ever tried. Nevertheless, as he got his guitar ready, Taoka plucked up his courage, and screwed it to the sticking place. He smiled his most daring smile at the trio, earning an arched eyebrow from each in the process. “Okay, gents,” he smirked, trying to sound his most confident, a cocksure twinkle returning to his eye as he let his mind sink into the world of his music. “Lemme lay somethin’ good on ya…” And without another word, Taoka strummed the guitar and began to play. The melody he played was strange and almost otherworldly; like something that came from the realm of the fae, or perhaps from the very depths of the ocean’s most mysterious fathoms…the music building up as he let it play on for a bit, eyes closed before he took a breath, and allowed the first lyrical notes to whisper forth, like a voice from beyond…

“It’s only forever…not long at all…lost and lonely…” Then, the music jumped into a higher gear; still mysterious, still strange, but with a certain adventurous pep, as the lyrics jumped to attention. Taoka’s voice was filled with a strange, contradictory tone: sympathetic, yet somehow mocking; not cruel, but playful… “No one can blame you, for walking away: with too much rejection, no love injection. Life can’t be easy; it’s not always swell.” His voice dropped an octave, with pain painting the words. “Don’t tell me ‘truth hurts,’ little girl…” He opened his eyes, looking down at his gloved hand. “...Because it hurts like Hell.” Then, a sly, slippery smile came to his face and he chuckled, closing his eyes once more. He shook his head to the beat as the song became slithery and inviting, almost hypnotic. “But down in the Underground, you’ll find someone true. Down in the Underground: a land serene, a crystal moon!” The smile became a grin as the music kicked up another notch, almost triumphant in nature. “Ah-ha! It’s only forever!” he almost laughed through the song. “That’s not long at all! Lost and lonely…that’s Underground! UNDERGROUND!” The final note echoed through the office…and finally, the song ended with a few last, haunting strums of the guitar. Taoka sighed…then looked towards his listeners expectantly. “Well?” he checked. “What didja think of that?”

Floyd and Jade’s eyes were very wide. They looked at each other…then back at Taoka…then grinned and applauded. “YAAAAY!” cheered Floyd. “That was short, but I was reeeeaaaaally feeling it, Crab Cake! More! I wanna hear more, c’moooon!” “An excellent display of your talent,” agreed Jade, quite serenely. “I think perhaps you could do well for the purpose of a house band. What do you think, Azul?” The player and the eel’s looked towards Azul. Taoka felt his smile falter. The octopus’ blue eyes were hidden by the glare of his glasses, making it hard to tell what he was thinking. A shadow seemed to have passed over him, which made Taoka’s anxiety kick up a notch. Finally, Azul inhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring…and applauded politely. “Very nicely sung,” he said, crisply. “I must admit, however, your guitar playing needs some work. ” “So I’ve been told,” mumbled Taoka, sourly, to himself. “Now, now, I don’t mean to say it’s bad,” smiled Azul, and his blue eyes were now visible as he leaned forward again. “But it sounded…a trifle forced, so to speak. Over-rehearsed. So much of the emotion that came from what you just gave me was gleamed from your vocals. Therefore, I think perhaps an instrumental role in the band is not for you.” Taoka felt his heart begin to sink…but that was before Azul continued speaking. “No. What I want from you is…your voice,” he almost hissed, seeming excited by the thought. “There is a dusky, smoky, yet absolutely golden quality to your singing that I think would suit the atmosphere of my Lounge just right. Especially if we give you the proper accompaniment and the best possible pieces. How would a position as the lead singer suit you?” Taoka’s heart leapt up again. His eyes widened…and an extremely wide smile stretched across his face. “The…the LEAD singer?” he checked…then, hearing his own voice break again, he immediately coughed and tried to cool down, lounging back easily in his seat and smirking it what he hoped was a nonchalant, barely-interested way. “Uh, I mean…yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a nice gig, babe. If ya think you can handle me in that role, heh heh…” Azul’s smile faded. “I think I can. But there is one condition.” “What’s that?” “Do NOT call me ‘babe.’” “Oh. Sorry. Uh…boss?” “Hmmm…boss will do,” smiled Azul, and stretched out a hand across the table. “Your trial run will begin a week from today. I’ll send you further information later, including the identities of your fellow band-mates. I imagine you’ll want to get in touch with them.” “That’d be helpful. Thanks, ba-er, boss.”

“Not at all,” Azul purred, and gave Taoka’s hand a firm squeeze before leaning in close. “Just be sure your voice remains as…appetizing to the ears as it is now, and I think there should be little trouble.” Taoka’s smile became more nervous and he nodded. He tried to pull his hand away…but Azul held it fast. The cephalo-man’s smile had become hard and sharp as a knife. “The time will be lunch hour,” he said. “I’d advise you to be punctual. Otherwise…perhaps I’ll make it into a lunch break.” Taoka gulped as Azul finally released his hand. He quickly stood up and gathered his guitar, putting it back in its case. “R-Right!” he said, and let out a somewhat hysterical little chuckle. “We-Well, uh…nice doin’ business with you all! And thanks so much!” “No thanks are necessary,” Azul said, and sipped his drink before adding, “It’s just what I do. It’s what I LIVE for: helping my fellow students, and especially underclassmen in need. As the guardian of the Sea Witch’s benevolent spirit, this is simply my way of bringing that spirit to life.” Taoka scratched the back of his head. “Right…well, uh…I guess that’s pretty nice of you.” “Yes, it is,” agreed Azul, then looked at the eels. “Now, boys? Please show him out.” Floyd and Jade got up from their seats and moved towards Taoka. Floyd gripped the demi-crab in disguise by the shoulders, and Taoka stiffened as he was then guided towards the door, which Jade opened in a courtly manner. “It was a pleasure to eat-I mean, meet you,” Jade said with a not-so-subtly teasing smile. “Make sure ya sing something super duper cool like that next time, Crab Cake!” Floyd grinned. “Don’t make me squeeze your shell off!” Before Taoka could respond to the teases, he was all but hurled out the door, stumbling as the office was shut and locked behind him. He blinked at the door…then took a deep breath, and sighed heavily, shaking his head as he hurriedly hustled back down the hall towards the main areas of the Mostro Lounge. “Never again,” he shuddered to himself, remembering those hungry stares and frightening words…but it wasn’t long till the fear left him, and a grin of purest, most delighted joy colored his face. He’d gotten the job. He’d gotten a position even better than he’d expected, in fact! He was going to be the LEAD SINGER. All the spotlight, all the attention, all the love…squarely on him and his shoulders. “I guess sometimes it’s worth taking risks,” he chuckled, and all but danced his way out of the Lounge, absolutely elated.

Even as Taoka left, however…back at the Lounge, Floyd and Jade were laughing. “AHHHH-HA-HA HA HA HA HA!” howled Floyd, clutching his chest with one hand and slapping his knee with the other. “D-Did you see his face? Did you see how SCARED he was! Awww, the poor wittle Krabby Patty, I just wanted to SQUISH him soooo much!”

“Perhaps we were a little TOO mischievous,” Jade suggested…but he clearly didn’t agree with his own sentiment, as he was stifling mad giggles between almost every word. “After all, we weren’t REALLY going to eat him.” Azul, who was still seated on the sofa, plucked a single piece of shrimp off the platter with his chopsticks. “No,” he murmured, as he inspected the piece of shrimp quietly. “No, you weren’t, were you?”

He popped the shrimp into his mouth and ate it up. As he did so, the Twins immediately stopped laughing and looked towards him. Neither had missed the word choices, nor the emphases Azul had. “Eh?” Floyd frowned, crinkling his nose. “What’re you saying it that creepy way for, huuuh?” “Creepy?” puffed Azul, indignantly. “Creepy? Me? Oh, please, I’m no worse than either of you.” “Whatever THAT means,” pouted Floyd, crossing his arms and sitting down on the opposite couch in a huff, like a sulking child. “I must admit, I’m a little surprised, Azul,” Jade said as he stood beside the same couch. “Surprised?” repeated Ashengrotto, as he took a drink of lemonade. “Well, you had said that you wanted to avoid choosing anyone without them showing proper experience onstage, before a crowd, or having any formal references,” Jade said. “Heeeey, that’s right!” Floyd realized. “In fact, I don’t think you even seemed interested until Betta Fishy toldja he was a crab!” “Well, after all,” said Azul, with a mask-like smile, “We undersea types have to stick together, regardless of dormitory boundaries.” The Twins looked skeptical. “Azul,” Jade finally asked, slowly. “Did you…agree to see him…BECAUSE he was a crab?” “I think that’s what I just implied, yes,” Azul replied, taking another sip of his drink. “That’s not what I mean,” said Jade. “I meant to ask, did you agree because he was a crab specifically, not merely a fellow ‘undersea type’?” Azul just gave a devious smile and adjusted his glasses, before lifting another piece of shrimp up. “Is that a yes? ‘Cause I don’t get it. What makes bein’ a crab so special?” Floyd frowned. “I mean, they’re just food for us, back in the ocean, aren’t they?” Azul once again said nothing. He simply popped the shrimp into his mouth and ate it. It took about ten seconds for realization to flow over the Leech Twins’ faces. “You weren’t just teasing, like we were,” Jade recognized. “He has three weeks to prove he’s worth being on my payroll,” Azul said, as if this were an obvious answer. “The way I see it, this is a win-win situation. For his part, he gets the experience and the spotlight he seems to crave. For my part, if he impresses me and our customers enough in that time, I get a good headliner for my house band. I also get a new connection to Pomefiore, and to Vil: something that could lead to some special reward. And of course, I get the credit for assisting an underclassmen in another dorm, who needed a helping tentacle.” He licked his lips subtly. “Otherwise, if he fails…well. Then I’ve earned three whole weeks of at least halfway-tolerable entertainment for my customers, all without needing to pay the lead singer a thing. And I think we all know he wouldn’t be the first student to go ‘mysteriously absent,’ the Headmage’s ‘special rules’ or not. After the disaster I heard happened at the Triple-S competition, it wouldn’t be hard to give an explanation for that absence, either, would it?” “Wow. You are…really despicable, when you wanna be, aren’tcha?” blinked Floyd. “That’s why you both stay around me,” Azul reminded him, and looked into his reflection in his glass of lemonade, a greedy glint in his eye. “Anyway, it’s time to get back to business. I want you both to start advertising the new entertainment more vigorously, and bring me people you think would serve his voice well with their talents. After all, we’re going to need more than a snack-I mean, singer, to provide a proper band.”

The End…?

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