#we're gonna stick to a post for every other chapter I think

[firstelevens]

sugar pie, honey bunch (chapter four)

As a rule, Bucky tries to avoid admitting it when Steve is right. It’s a holdover from when they were younger, a safeguard against unwittingly agreeing to something that would inevitably get thrown back at Bucky while he was trying to keep his ninety-pound best friend from starting a fistfight with the last person to say something mildly shitty within earshot of him. He doesn’t really need to stick to the rule anymore, given that Steve has since bulked up and moved to another country (and now understands teenaged Bucky’s plight, because it turns out that the only person more constantly ready to fight than Steve Rogers is Peggy Carter), but it’s habit at this point.

Still, on the third weekend of baking, Bucky is finally willing to concede that Steve wasn’t wrong. Being back in the tent might actually be kind of fun.

read chapter four on AO3 | start from the beginning

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 267 (spoilers)

We're coming to the end of the manga 😭

But our girl has come back! After 150 chapters? Nobara enters the fight with the predictions everyone had about her coming true: she has an eyepatch now and she used Resonance on Sukuna's last finger.

Last December I made a meta post outlining every piece of information we had on the situation and how those come together to facilitate Nobara's return. So if you're confused about that, read the post to get a feel for the mechanics that are at play here before they get revealed in the next chapters.

It's so funny how you could instantly tell that Yuta is inside Gojo and vice versa 😂

We get new information that switching souls unlike possessions doesn't grant the user access to the memories of the host. The same is true for Rika ingesting body parts to use copy on others.

We get info on how Yuta's copy works and it's not as overpowered like that but how did Yuta use copy on Inumaki before he lost his arm? It could be that Yuta, as he said, made BV to limit his usage but it could also be that Yuta can use copy without cannibalism but his count is limited to 3 or 4 CT as Yuki told us once.

Using Rika to copy more CT after that might be why body parts are required now 🤔

It's cute how Ui Ui is just sleeping while leaning on Yuji.

Yessssss!

The thing why this works so late in the manga is that Nobara didn't have open story plots left over after getting "killed". Outside of meeting Saori (which will happen when she's alive) her character arc was complete which was why the setup of her death itself was the biggest reason why we didn't believe she died.

For Megumi this is another thing though. He's full of incomplete character development, open plot threads and set ups. And I'm not gonna lie it's making me nervous how Gege will resolve all of that.

Even Sukuna still has open stuff going on: what were his origins? Why did he look sad in Yorozu's flashback? Why did he decide to turn into 20 fingers?

The last chapter will be extra long so with that and the three other chapters there is enough space at least to tackle Sukuna and Megumi together, but man...

Is it just me or do others also think that Gege has enough material and support/fame to just... make Jujutsu Kaisen 2 when he wants to? Like straight up give the manga a Shibuya like ending with the merger wreaking havoc and then make a time jump to 2024 and start JJK even more Kaisen...

Resonance

It's not shown but Utahime and Gramps might have used their support again to increase Nobara's CE output.

Also why was it just now that she woke up? Did sth happen that triggered it or was it a double effort from those around her to get her out of her coma?

And what if they actually did switch training with Nobara? Nobody told Yuji of course but it could've happened to get a healer inside of her and to get her up to speed to what was happening right now so she could make an effort to properly wake up again

When Nobara uses Resonance Yuji has a tear in his eyes 😢

And it's another blink and you'll miss it panel but after Dismantle with Yuji's next punch Sukuna pukes out his fingers again! 4 or 5 are on the ground now

So they will defeat him by literally ripping him apart from Megumi until he's 20 fingers again.

The thing is Sukuna has consumed his old body too and it might not be possible to get that out of Megumi. Megumi will not only carry mental scars from this, as well as whatever the Bath might've done to him, but part of Sukuna's essence might very well stick with him until he dies.

But also this fingers puking out business very well guarantees that Sukuna won't die by the end of the manga... jjk2

What will happen to Tengen and the merger is another big mystery right now.

The three-fold visual of Sukuna getting hit by Resonance, Dismantle and then Black Flash is awesome and shows how Sukuna is at the end of his rope. As said at the end of the last chapter, this might've very well been the last Shinjuku chapter.

I can see next chapter starting with a Sukuna flashback that should (!) turn around until we land back with Megumi.

Overall an awesome comeback for Nobara with all our she's alive theories confirmed. Now the only things left are a deep dive into Sukuna and a Megumi resolution...

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: The Love She Holds

Series: “She” Word count: 2,7k+ Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Reader Warnings: 18+; mayans mc typical warnings, unwanted touch, SMUT kinda A/n: What we're all been waiting for ✨ PS. If I reread this one more time before posting I'll probably scrape it all bcs I'm never satisfied 😩 If you enjoyed reading this please reblog and let me know your thoughts!

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

For the next few days, Angel can’t look you in the eyes—hell, he can’t even bring himself to leave his room when he hears you shuffling around the apartment. He waits for the sound of the lock shifting in the door before he can bring himself to stick his head out of his safe haven. 

Angel knows he’s the one that fucked up this whole thing with you. He was lonely, and you were in his life for such a long ass time. You’ve never let him down—not even once. You are the sweetest person he’s ever met, yet you can still kick his ass when he’s being a dick. Falling in love with you was inevitable, but he didn’t know it would happen so fast—so soon. 

The man sighs as he leans his elbows on the wooden counter, listening to the wheezing of the coffee machine as hot black liquid spurts into the mug. The sound was tickling his nerves in a certain—very annoying—way. It didn’t make him even slightly angry before the bath incident, but now he just can’t stand it—it makes his head hurt. 

He slams his fist onto the counter, cursing loudly. The coffee spills over the edge of the mug and barely misses his hand. 

“I should fuckin’ do something,” he murmurs to himself through clenched teeth. Since when was he afraid to go after a woman he loves? He’s never been a goddamn pussy. What changed?

You are just so different than anyone Angel’s ever been with. He doesn’t want to lose you—can’t fucking stand the thought of you walking away. He has to do something. 

He drops Maverick off at Felipe’s house—gives them some abuelo-nieto time while he drives over to the bar where you work. It’s a shithole—a very suspicious one at that—yet the parking lot in front is almost full. The neon sign above the door flashes on and off when Angel slams the door of his car shut. Jesus, it’s gonna give someone a headache or a fucking seizure.

Entering this building was probably one of the worst mistakes in life—the man thinks as he’s greeted by a couple almost going at it by the entrance. The skinny blond dude has his hand down the poor girl’s skimpy skirt as she moans loudly in his ear, hips rolling into his palm. Fucking disgusting. 

He was doing the same exact shit back in the day when he was dumb, reckless, and didn’t care about anyone other than himself. But now the view makes him almost gag. 

The brunet pushes past the lovebirds—or rather fuckbirds—through the narrow hallway to the main area. The dimmed red lights flashing above his head and the music that makes every wall pulse with the beat make it seem like more of a club rather than a bar. He’s surprised when he takes a few more steps and a woman dressed in booty shorts with her whole tits out passes by him with a tray full of colorful shots. What the fuck is this place?

Angel looks around wildly, searching the topless women’s faces in fear he’ll recognize one of them. He pushes past the swaying bodies in the middle of the room, and then he sees you—working behind the bar.

He’s relieved when he notices that your chest is covered by one of those bralette thingies you like to wear so much. But he’s not sure whether this relief comes from not wanting the pathetic men around the bar to stare at your perfect body or not wanting to get another surprise boner in front of you. 

“You didn’t tell me you’re a bartender now,” he yells through the loud music as your gaze finds him, your eyes widening in shock.

You serve one of the men at the bar a bottle of beer, popping the cap simultaneously, then you come back to Angel and squint at him, trying to find a clue as to why he turned up at your workplace and how he even knew where to find you. This bar was almost an hour's drive away from Santo Padre. 

“What the hell are you doing here? I do not have time to put up with your shit right now, Angel,” you sneer at him as you lean over the bar in hopes he’ll hear you better, take the hint and retreat back to his car. 

“I’m fucking sorry, alright?!” He throws his hands in the air in exasperation, almost knocking a drink out of some poor girl’s hand.

You blink once, then twice, and your eyebrows scrunch up in annoyance, “Fuck off.” You whip around and go the opposite way to serve another customer. 

That’s definitely not how Angel imagined this conversation would go. He didn’t know you were that mad at him. He was a moron to think you’d accept his apology without a peep in the middle of a sea of drunk strangers. This wasn’t a goddamn telenovela. 

The man sighs deeply in annoyance before following you to the other side of the bar. “Querida, can we talk? Give me five fucking minutes.”

At first, he’s sure you’ll just ignore him as your eyes almost pop out of your skull—that’s how hard you roll them at his words—but then you turn to him with teary eyes. “I’m at work. I can’t. You really couldn’t wait and ambush me when I’m home?” 

“It was an impulse,” he admits. Angel knew it was pretty dumb to think that if he came here, you’d drop everything, so he could explain himself and get rid of this guilt that’s been eating him alive for the past few days. “Please, querida.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” you curse under your breath before waving over the other bartender and shouting through the noise to her that you’re taking a break. 

You join Angel on the other side of the counter and tug at his kutte, leading him toward the exit. Before you can even reach the hallway, someone bumps into you, their hands grabbing at your naked waist. 

“Hey there, bonita,” the man greets you. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes makes your eyes widen—you know it very well. 

Angel stands there for a second, his left brow raised in annoyance and confusion because you seem to know this guy—and he really doesn’t like that thought. He pushes the stranger’s hands off your body with a sneer. 

“Man, don’t fucking touch her like that.”

You catch Angel’s forearm and squeeze almost painfully, your nails digging into his inked skin. You don’t turn your head toward him even for a quarter of a second. 

“The hell? We’re friends, big guy.” The man’s deep voice and graying beard confuse him even more. Since when do you fancy fucking grandpas? 

“Uh, Cesar, hi,” you greet him, your voice squeaky and the upward quirk of your lips fake. The second the stranger’s gaze falls over your grip on the brunet’s arm, you release him. “Sorry, I’ve actually just finished my shift.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.” Cesar’s eyebrows and nose scrunch threateningly. Who the fuck is this guy to be talking to you like that?

You reply without missing a beat, “My kid’s got a fever. It’s an emergency.”

The old guy looks between your face and Angel’s before the grimace falls. The smirk taking its place isn’t any less threatening. “You must be the baby daddy, huh?” he asks, but his tone is clearly mocking.

You pray in your head that Angel will hold his short temper at bay. You know, one wrong word to Cesar equals a shit ton of trouble—even the satisfaction of wiping that disgusting smirk off his face wasn’t worth it. 

“Mi niña hermosa. So fucking good at riding, she got herself a biker,” Cesar almost moans those words out as his hand finds your hip, fingers toying with the belt loop of your dress pants. You don’t move to slap his hand away.

Angel raises his fist to punch him, his teeth gritting against each other almost audibly. Before he can deliver that hit, you push him aside and usher him out of the door. You don’t say another word to that Cesar guy—not even a goodbye—as he slips a bill into your back pocket and slaps your ass.

Angel is fucking livid because you know how to take care of yourself, he saw you kill a man before, crush his skull with your goddamn boot, and yet you just take the disrespect in silence. It’s not like you.

Once you’re out the door and out of earshot, he explodes. “Why the fuck did you let him treat you like that?!” His voice reverberates through the night air, earning the two of you a few concerned and annoyed glances from the bystanders. 

“That’s my boss. Now shut up and take me home,” you mumble, exhausted, looking around the parking lot in search of Angel’s car. “I spent an hour in the car with that dick to even get here, and now I’m going back after not even half of my shift just because you couldn’t wait to talk,” you rant, almost stumbling over your words.

When you reach the car, and he opens the door at the passenger side like always, he’s surprised to catch a glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. He joins you inside with a sigh, concerned eyes finding your head turned away from him as you stare through the side window. 

“Cariño, I’m sorry,” Angel whispers, his hand reaching to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with your bare arm. “Every single time I feel like we’re closer than ever and that maybe you feel something toward me too, you fucking push me away.”

“I know, I’m—”

You cut him off before he has a chance to apologize again, “No, I’m speaking right now. You’ve never yelled at me before. Not like that. You scared the shit out of me, and I blamed myself. Wondered what the hell I did to deserve it. But I didn’t do shit.” You throw your arms in the air, gesticulating toward him. You still refuse to meet his eyes. “You fucked up. Not me. You’re the one that’s been playing with my feelings all this time, and god forbid I try to even out the stakes.”

Angel’s now the one tearing up as his eyes widen at your words. “Querida, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it.” His fingers find solace in tugging on his hair in frustration.  “And I never wanted you to feel like I’m playing with your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

You turn away from him again, biting your lip to keep the sobs inside. “Please, just drive me home, Angel.” The desperation in your voice is heartbreaking. 

So he does what you ask of him and drives you home in silence. He doesn’t have it in him to try again when you’re already struggling, trying to keep the whimpers from wrecking your body. And when you pull up in front of your apartment building with a heavy heart, he lets you jump out of the car and rush to the door. 

He stays in his seat, trying to recollect himself—it doesn’t help, he still hates himself for making you feel this way. It takes a while for him to get inside the apartment, he dreads that when he walks in, you’ll tell him to take his shit and get out of your life. 

Angel knows he fucked up, and you were right; he played with your feelings—played with his own too. He slept in your bed almost every night, cuddled with you, kissed your forehead and told you ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’. How was it any different from how he’d treat Nails, Luisa, or any other woman he loved? Minus the sex. And when you challenged that unspoken boundary—on purpose or not—he chickened out and treated you like a plague. What the hell was wrong with him?

The apartment is swallowed in darkness when he enters it. You’re nowhere to be seen, and he figures out you’ve probably shut yourself inside your room, maybe even locked the door, so he wouldn’t be able to come in. He wouldn’t blame you.

He sits on the couch in the gloom and stares into the void. He’ll wait for you to come to him once you’re ready—he’ll sit here for hours if he has to. Angel needs to fix this, tell you what’s really been on his mind the past couple of days—tell you how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how fucking terrifying it is. 

Three hours pass, and he’s almost dozed off on the couch, his head tilted forward, his back slumped, and his eyelids drooping with every second. The wooden floor creaks underneath your footsteps, waking him up completely. The sleepiness evaporates into thin air as he straightens up and finds your frame in the darkness. 

You switch on one of the lamps in the corner of the room. Its warm glow takes over its surroundings, but not overwhelmingly so. Angel squints a little as your frame drops onto the couch beside him. You sniffle softly before leaning your head on his shoulder.

His heart shatters just a little bit more, and his voice carries it, breaking in the middle of the sentence, “I’m sorry, cariño.”

You don’t acknowledge his apology—you don’t really need to. Your next words are all the forgiveness he could ever want. 

“I love you, Angel,” you mumble against his arm. It’s a quiet confession, yet it echoes in his mind like a mantra.

He feels your tears soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. The man blinks in shock once, or twice, then pulls you into his lap and presses a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“You know I love you too, right? More than any woman I’ve ever loved,” he admits, and it pains him, but it’s the truth.

He loved Luisa and Stephanie, but those feelings pale in comparison to what he feels for you. Angel never experienced this overwhelming want to protect someone from the whole goddamn world—the pure need to spend every single minute of his life with them and care about them more than he’s ever cared about himself. He feels that for you—like he could throw himself into a burning fire if someone promised him his sacrifice would give you and Maverick safety for the rest of your lives. 

You straighten up in his arms and cradle his jaw in your palms. When your eyes meet, you see that burning fire in them. He doesn’t need to say anything else—you understand him without words. 

Your lips press against his tentatively at first, tasting the love and longing. But Angel has a different idea. He pulls you flush against his chest, hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His tongue grazes the plush of your lips, and you part them for him without a second thought. 

That night, he fucks you on the couch in the middle of your living room, your back pressed against the cushions as he slides inside you with a guttural groan. It’s sweet and needy. The desire you harbored for each other finally released into the world—he’s far past feeling guilty, and sorry for a woman that’s long gone.

Your moans reverberate through the room, and all he can think about is how perfectly he fits inside you—like you were made just for him. One look into your eyes, and he knows you’re thinking the same thing. 

Your nails bite into the bare skin of his back, and the pain is so lovely—he could get drunk on it. He pushes deeper and deeper until you’re a whimpering, clenching mess beneath him. It’s a picture that burns into his brain, he’ll never be able to get it out—not that he’ll ever want to. 

When he spills inside you with a groan, you pull him flush against your naked frame, cradling his face in your palms and leaving sweet pecks anywhere you can reach. 

He’s addicted already, he’ll never be able to give you away now—not a chance in the world. Angel’s love for you is burned into his heart permanently. 

Taglist: @neverland14353 @darklydeliciousdesires @spnaquakindgdom @dreamy-caramel @mars469

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you Chp.20

Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 5443

Summary: Back in public Minho tries to build up the courage to open up about what really happened without revealing too much. His friends support him every step of the way, hearing some things for the first time as well. Chan has to decide how open he really wants to be and walks the fine line of supporting his boyfriend and keeping their relationship a secret. Especially after Minho's first performance doesn't go as planned.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, panic attack, mention of throwing up, dizziness, anxious!min, protective!chan

A/N: Looking back at this series, this is by far one of my most cherished chapters. Not only has the group learned to stick together when one of them isn't exactly stable, but also Chan and Minho finally pull at the same string. I love how the growth in both of them has been visible for you guys and I do hope this chapter proves it once more. We're almost at the end, which makes me a little nostaglic because chapter one was one of my first posts back in October (we haven't missed a week🤭). I hope you enjoy it, I'll see you next week for the last one (sobbing)🖤

Chp.19| Chp. 21

All I know is you saved me and you know it Saved me and you know it Always thought I was hard to love ' Til you made it seem so easy Easy ~ Camila Cabello

During dinner, Chan's hand kept slipping beneath the table, resting on Minho's thigh or grabbing his hand. Now that he knew, he wondered how he hadn't realized Felix and Changbin were acting the same way he and Minho had been. The secret glances, hands brushing against each other in passing, the soft smiles they shared when no one was watching. Jisung suddenly got everyone's attention. "As we all know, we have two couples amongst our group," he announced, quiet enough only for them to hear. "The funniest part about it is Chan and Changbin thinking they've been discreet, whilst Minho and Felix knew damn well the opposite is the case." 

Seungmin blinked at Chan. "You thought what? You've been drooling over Minho since we debuted." 

"Don't even start," their leader sighed heavily and hung his head, not noticing Minho's surprised glance. 

“As you all know, the rest of us have our own thing going on,” Jisung added.

"See? No reason to panic about telling the kids," Minho told Chan kindly and patted his back. "We're all grownups here." 

"Are we, though?" Felix giggled. 

"Now that we all know, no one has to sneak around the house anymore to be with one another," Seungmin concluded Jisung's announcement. 

"Amen," Felix agreed. 

"Fuck me. The house is gonna turn into a mess," Chan sighed and buried his face in his hands. 

"You think you're the only one allowed to have fun?" Jeongin asked sassily. He received a warning glare from his leader. “Also, what makes you think it wasn’t a mess before you knew?”

"I could use a drink," Minho announced cheerfully and waved over a waiter. "Anyone else? I'm paying." 

Chan chuckled softly and agreed. He could use one himself. Once everyone seemed to busy themselves with side conversations, Chan leaned a little closer to Minho. "You're so pretty, it's unreal," he whispered in his ear. Minho blushed softly. 

"Stop it," he chuckled. 

"I mean it. I've never seen someone as beautiful as you," he confessed and watched him bite his lower lip. Right, praises were something he had a thing for. "My beautiful kitten." 

Minho gasped softly, his pupils widening at the pet name. "Channie, stop," he whispered lovingly. "Not here." 

"Why not?" he asked, smirking softly. 

“You know damn well why not,” he rolled his eyes fondly.

-

Minho stared at his plate, pushing its contents from left to right for the thousandth time. He was feeling incredibly sick because he was so nervous about their press conference in a few hours. 

"Minho hyung? Aren't you hungry?" Jisung asked gently. Minho snapped out of his thoughts. 

He realized all of them were staring at him and smiled weakly, pushing his plate away. "I'm too anxious right now," he admitted as he reached for his water. But as he brought it closer to his lips, his grip around his glass got tighter as he noticed his hand trembling. 

"Can we do anything to help?" Felix spoke up next to him softly. 

"I don't think so," he shook his head and chewed on his lower lip. "I guess now that it's time, I'm scared there'll be consequences for you guys. It’s not exactly a great way to kick off promotions." 

"Whatever it is, we'll stand behind you, Min," Chan assured him. 

Minho met his eyes across the table and smiled weakly. "Are you saying this as my boyfriend or the leader of this group?" 

"Minho," Chan said softly.

"You should put the group first today, Chan. We both know that," he told him kindly. Chan lowered his gaze at the table for a moment. "I'm not afraid of the consequences because I know if I keep going like this, it'll end much worse for me,” he told them and rubbed his face tiredly. “I just don’t want you all to suffer from the news.” 

"They either get all eight of us or none of us," Changbin spoke up. 

"I'm sick of people trying to separate us," Hyunjin agreed. 

"We have your back, Minho hyung. There's nothing they can do about that," Seungmin agreed. 

"Fuck them all," Jeongin concluded with a grin. 

"Even if we didn’t worry about the consequences, Chan doesn't function without you..as we all saw repeatedly," Jisung commented dryly. 

“Thanks, Hannie,” Chan gently rolled his eyes.

Minho chuckled softly at all of them and rolled his eyes playfully. "When you put it that way, what's there to worry about." 

Felix smiled and looked at him. "Can we give you a hug?" 

"Fine," he sighed softly, secretly longing for nothing else than some physical comfort right now. He got up, and all of them gathered around him in a big group hug. Minho smiled softly and buried his face in Chan's chest as the warmth of his members finally gave him some comfort. "I love you guys," he told them after a moment. "I'm sorry for all that shit I'm putting you through currently." 

"Stop it, Minho hyung. We all have rough moments being in this industry," Changbin comforted him. 

"That's why there are seven others who have our back at all times," Hyunjin agreed. 

Once they reached their destination and had to enter the room where they'd be interviewed, Minho felt nauseous all over again. The staff would possibly kill him, or maybe he'd just get in serious trouble. Their names were announced, and they all left his side one by one, taking their places. Minho's stomach turned once more as he saw his place. Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Seungmin, and Jeongin were sitting on higher chairs in the back in that order. Felix was in the front row on the left, Jisung on the right, and the place in their midst was empty. They weren’t joking when they said they'd always be around him, protecting him. Minho's stage name was announced and he gave himself a mental push before walking out on stage, putting on a perfectly convincing, practiced smile. He sat down and nervously adjusted his suit jacket. 

They started out easy with some general questions about their next comeback, upcoming concerts, and already published songs. Minho didn't have to talk much and was able to fool around with the boys a little. He carefully adjusted his glasses as an interviewer called his name. 

"You've been on a break recently after collapsing on stage. Our readers are wondering what you think about said event and how you plan to continue?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. 

"As my team has already explained, I was injured and overworked at the event in question, which is why I collapsed and-," Minho stopped in his tracks, realizing this was the moment. He shouldn't just answer with the scripted version of what the staff had written up for him in case of such a question. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Actually, I would like to make my own statement if you allow me to." 

"Please go on," she encouraged him. 

"About two months before this performance, my mental health was starting to get worse. I had trouble taking care of and trusting in myself. It got better whenever I was around my members. At some point, I defined myself through my performance only. When I got injured, I had to take a step back, which made this much harder for me. I got into a massive fight with one of the most important people in my life, which really took a toll on me," Minho said and saw some staff members in the back looking at each other nervously. "I had trouble eating, I didn't get enough sleep, and I practiced too much and too long. Because of that, my injury got worse, and I let it happen, thinking the pain I felt was the punishment I deserved for not being able to perform. I was awful to be around, and I didn’t treat the ones I call my family well, pushing them away when all they wanted was to help. I didn't have the resources to be there for them because I barely had any left for myself, which I'm very sorry for," he continued as pictures were taken of him, and he knew there were live recordings as well. 

No going back now. 

"I didn't collapse because I was injured or tired. My mental health and body couldn't keep up with what I was doing anymore. I've spent two days unconscious at the hospital, which is what made my members decide I needed to take a break. I don't regret collapsing because I wouldn't have stopped this harmful behavior otherwise and-," he stopped as his voice started shaking and swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. Suddenly, Felix took his hand and smiled at him encouragingly while Jisung rested his hand on his knee. Chan followed his heart and wrapped his arms around him from behind, ensuring he knew they were there. Minho inhaled softly and rested his hand on Chan's arm, steadying himself. "I know I’ll make myself vulnerable by saying this, but I think it's important we start normalizing that your beloved idols are humans, too. This is why I want to announce that after everything that happened, I’ve decided to see a therapist. I'm not ashamed of it, and if I want to keep being part of this family and doing my best for our fans, I need to take care of myself better," he concluded and exhaled softly.

"We want to announce that we stand behind Minho and fully support his decision. We ask our fans to show our Minho how much he means to us all and how much he is worth. Please be patient with us during this process," Chan spoke up behind him, noticing how much Minho was shaking, glancing at the staff. "Thank you so much for being here. This will be all for today." 

They all got up, making sure to surround Minho as they left the stage. Minho felt dizzy and flinched a little as suddenly two of their press advisors approached them, saying his name. They seemed ready to call him out for his shit. Chan wrapped his arm around him protectively and told them to back off, not caring that reporters were still taking pictures. Finally, they made it backstage. Chan stepped in front of him, removing his microphone for him. "Give me a moment," he mumbled as his stomach protested, quickly pushing through them and making his way to the bathroom. He ripped the door open to one of the stalls and crouched down, throwing up. All the anxiety and nervousness got to him, combined with the realization that, for the first time, he did the opposite of what he had been advised to do. Once his stomach had calmed down, Minho carefully pushed himself up and sniffled softly, trying to swallow a panic attack threatening to creep in. He pushed the door open and slowly stepped outside, flinching heavily as he saw his friends standing at the sink, all watching him worriedly. "I can't even throw up in peace?" he joked tiredly and made his way over to a sink, shakily turning on the water. He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands, thanking Hyunjin quietly, who gave him some paper towels. 

"Do you feel better after telling the truth?" Seungmin asked. 

"I'm glad it's not a secret anymore," he told them, leaning against the sink. "But besides that, no. I'm a minute away from a full-blown panic attack," he admitted, knowing there was no use hiding it. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees and inhaling shakily. "They'll kill me, won't they?" 

Jisung was the first one to react and stepped in front of him. "Deep breaths, Minho hyung. You'll be okay." He hugged him as he stood up straight again and soothingly rubbed his back. The others let them, knowing Jisung often found comfort in Minho when he was panicking, so it fit for him to try and return the favor. Jeongin grabbed a few paper towels, made them wet, and wrung them out before carefully placing them on the back of Minho's neck. Felix stepped next to them and gently ran his hand through his hair as Jisung guided Minho in his breathing. 

Once he had calmed down, Chan took over, pulling him into a tight hug and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm so proud of you. That was very brave." 

"I don't feel very brave right now," he gave back, making his friends chuckle. He barely noticed Changbin removing the paper towels from his neck and leaning his forehead against Chan's. "Let's go back to the hotel, please?" 

“We could stay in for the night and order takeout,” Jeongin proposed. “We’ll just meet up in one room and order there.” 

Minho smiled thankfully and nodded. “That would be nice.” 

-

"May we ask what sent you down the spiral of mental issues?" their interviewer spoke up, clearly talking to Minho. They were currently at a radio station, giving an interview about their upcoming album. Of course, the press conference from yesterday would be a topic; Minho had expected nothing less.

Minho shifted in his seat and thought for a moment. He was aware of the camera moving a little closer on him as they’d also film and upload the whole session. "As I've said, the hate, the injury, lack of sleep, and slowly stop eating altogether have all played their part in this process. It’s been weeks of feeling like shit, and I’m glad I got through the worst of it by now." 

“Many of our listeners thought it was very brave of you to open up like that since we usually don’t see this happening,” she told him with a kind smile. “That must’ve been scary.”

“It was. It still is,” he chuckled, and Jisung flashed him a gentle smile across the table. He knew how it was.

“Nevertheless, most people out there are very grateful you did that. How does that make you feel?” she asked curiously. 

“It’s a relief to hear that people can relate to my situation and don’t look down on me because of it. Also, if me opening up about my struggles helps someone, I don’t get why it is an issue to do so,” he said.

“I think a lot of people out there can relate to the feeling of trying to function when you actually feel like giving up,” Felix added.

“We’ve all been there before,” Seungmin agreed. “Maybe not as heavily, but we’ve all certainly had our struggles in the industry.”

“I think what made it so difficult was seeing Minho hyung go through it,” Hyunjin said gently. “Usually, we come to him with these issues, so no one really knew how to help.”

“Which didn’t stop them from trying, though,” Minho said reassuringly, smiling at him. “I just haven’t been so easy to deal with.”

“How has this situation been for you as a leader?” she asked, turning to Chan, sitting beside Minho quietly. 

“Oh, he struggled the most with it,” Changbin answered for him, and they all chuckled. “Minho’s always been his partner in leading the team with him.”

“That was certainly missed, yeah,” Chan laughed, winking at Minho. "I realized how much I rely on him in certain areas and I know I should've stepped up more." 

"What about that fight you mentioned? Was it with one of the members or someone else?" she asked Minho.

"That was me," Chan spoke up before Minho could answer. "I've been very difficult to deal with, and Minho didn't give up on me, which made things grow tense. I've accused him of complete bullshit to save myself and been very harsh towards him, which didn’t help him deal with his own issues." 

"But, we’ve all talked it out and are doing better than ever," Minho added with a nervous smile. 

"I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you mean you were difficult to deal with?" she asked. Everyone grew quiet for a moment, tension slowly rising at the question. She glanced at them, apologetically. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her with a warm smile and exchanged a look with Minho, who looked back at him questioningly. “I’m just trying to figure out how to start.”

“You don’t have to go in depth,” Minho assured him gently.

Chan inhaled softly before grabbing his hand beneath the table. He knew it could be seen on camera, but he couldn’t care less now. "I've been depressed, shutting everyone out for two weeks. I let some things get to me, and Minho was the only one I let near me. I didn't explain exactly how I was feeling, but he was there to hold me when I couldn't go on anymore and broke down crying repeatedly," Chan said, and everyone grew quiet. Their friends looked at Minho and Chan worriedly, hearing for the first time how much Minho actually dealt with. Minho swallowed hard. He could tell by the sound of his voice alone that Chan was having a hard time talking about it. "I've been dragging him down with me and my issues. After our fight, we both dealt with it differently. But none of us were feeling well. I’d never say I was doing as bad as him those past few weeks. Nevertheless-," his voice broke, and the grip on his hand grew tighter. 

"Chan," Minho said gently, turning a little and seeing the tears in his boyfriend's eyes.

Chan stopped for a moment, gathering himself as he found peace in Minho's soft coffee eyes. "Nevertheless, Minho saved my life even though he couldn’t stand being in a room with me at that time. And I'll be forever grateful for that. I gave up on everyone, including myself. A few weeks before Minho’s incident, I accidentally sent my goodbye message to Minho after spontaneously deciding to leave the group. I didn’t feel like I could lead them anymore and thought they’d do better without me. I knew they had Min, who would do his best to carry them through it," he said, his voice shaking as a tear ran down his cheeks. Minho blinked softly as tears brimmed his own eyes and swallowed hard, knowing he had to be strong for them in this moment. Chan wiped away the tears and exhaled shakily. "He climbed up to my balcony, even though he’s deathly scared of heights, to stop me, thinking I was talking about something else, and I-," he trailed off before holding Minho's hand up. "So yes, for everyone asking why I called him love when he collapsed or gifted him this ring, it's because I really, really love him, and I want him to know that."

Minho smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He hadn’t expected him to be that open. 

“Gosh, it sounds like you two have been through a lot lately,” she said with a compassionate smile. “Feel free to step away for a bit if you need a moment,” she told them, seeing how hard Chan was fighting back tears.

Chan exchanged a look with Minho, debating if they should take her up on that. Minho got up, still holding his hand. “Come on, Channie hyung,” he said gently, placing his headset on the table.

Minho pulled him close as soon as they were outside, his heart breaking a little at how tightly Chan clung to him, hiding his face in his shirt. “You did great, Channie love. I’m so proud of you,” he told him quietly.

“You’re right, this is scary,” he said quietly. 

“I got you,” he promised with a gentle smile, fondling his hair. “I love you so much. Thank you for having my back in there,” he whispered.

Chan pulled back and smiled as Minho wiped his cheeks for him. “I love you too, baby,” he told him quietly. He held up his pinky finger for him. “You and me against the world?”

Minho’s face softened as he returned the gesture, linking them together. “Always…Let’s go back in?”

“May I get a kiss first?” he asked.

Minho glanced around quickly before nodding. He connected their lips to a short but loving kiss and gently patted his back. “Alright, come on.”

-

The others watched them leave before turning back to their interviewer. “That is quite some story,” she said. 

“Yeah, it’s been a lot going on the past few weeks,” Jisung agreed. 

“I suppose that hasn’t been easy for you all either?” 

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Felix told her. “Those two have formed a very deep bond over the past few years, so we all knew they could do this once they started to get along again.” 

“A very deep bond? Do you mean like very good friends? Or are the rumors true, and there’s more?”

“You could call them our parents by now. These two are so in sync it’s annoying,” Jeongin lightened the mood as they came back inside and sat down. 

“As charming as always,” Chan commented dryly.

“We’ve been blessed with a few chaotic kids. It’s only natural that we had to step up and lead them,” Minho winked at Jeongin, who stuck out his tongue at him. “See?” he asked, making everyone laugh. 

"Your friends have been telling me about that deep bond you share. Our listeners would love to know if the rumors are true?" she asked and Minho looked at Chan. 

Chan looked almost a little anxious as he met his eyes, swallowing hard at the pure love and adoration in his boyfriend's doe eyes. Minho smiled gently, taking Chan's hand and squeezing it. "Chan means a lot to me, which is why fighting with him had taken such a toll on me. We're a team and we work best when we're together," Minho said, keeping his eyes on Chan. "I love him, that sums it up well." 

"Platonic love or-?" she asked curiously. 

Minho could tell Chan wasn't quite ready to open up that much today and simply smiled, still not looking away from him. "No comment." 

Chan chuckled, finger brushing over his ring delicately. He turned toward their interviewer, taking a deep breath. "As I said, I love him too. That's all I have for you right now."

Felix and Changbin grinned as they watched them, Jisung exchanged a fond glance with Hyunjin and Jeongin winked at Seungmin. They all knew damn well how very obvious those statements have been without saying much or admitting anything. At the end of the day, their hyungs knew how to dance along the fine line. 

"Well…I wish you the best of luck then to keep what you have right now," she said with a knowing smile. 

A few weeks later

Minho adjusted his newest stage outfit and sighed after cracking his neck. He was tired and already longed to be wrapped up in Chan's arms and back in bed. He had gotten through most of his performances for the day already and was about to perform for the last time. "Can I borrow that one for a moment?" he asked Felix, who was walking past him with a fan. 

"You can keep it," Felix told him, and Minho nodded thankfully. 

He closed his eyes as the cool air hit his face and took a few deep breaths. His head was hurting a little from all the noise, so he made his way outside their dressing room, leaning against the wall. 

Only a few seconds later, the door opened again. "Are you okay?" Chan asked caringly.��

Minho nodded and flashed him a small smile. "I'm okay. It's too loud in there," he told him. 

"Understandable," he nodded agreeingly and rolled his eyes fondly. "But seriously, are you sure you’re feeling?" 

"Yeah," he nodded. 

"Your knee's alright?" he asked. 

"It has been for a while now, yes," he told him amused. 

"You're not feeling dizzy or anything?" Chan made sure, and Minho shook his head. 

"I'm overwhelmed, that's all. Today there have been a lot of bright lights and loud noises. I'm getting a bit of a headache, but I'll get through the last performance and relax later," he assured him. 

Chan stepped in front of him and gently massaged the back of his neck before going up to his temples. Minho moaned softly at the relieving touch and closed his eyes. "I'm proud of you, baby. You've worked hard today." 

"Thank you," he smiled shyly and opened his eyes again. "I missed being on stage like this."

"I know you did," he nodded and kissed his forehead. "Have I told you how much your new hair color suits you yet?" he asked, brushing back Minho's currently dark purplish hair. 

"Only a million times," he winked at him. "I like it too, no worries," he giggled. 

"So pretty." Chan gave him a short kiss. "Can I walk you to the stage?" 

"Sure," he smiled sweetly and laughed as their friends all came outside. 

"We wouldn't want to miss your last performance," Jisung smiled. 

"You guys are so sweet," Minho told them and took Chan's hand. "Alright, let's go." 

"Good luck," Chan told him right before he left, and Minho took his place on stage. 

He was feeling alright throughout the performance, hitting his notes beautifully and dancing smoothly as always. 

"Gosh, he sounds so good," Jisung beamed excitedly as Minho hit a high note.

"Is he okay, though?" Felix frowned softly. 

"Right? It looked like he stumbled a bit," Jeongin nodded nervously. 

"He's shaking," Seungmin added. 

"Please shut up," Chan said anxiously, seeing all of it himself. His eyes haven’t left Minho the entire performance. 

Minho knew the song was coming to an end and felt relieved, knowing he'd soon be back home. He stepped forward at the end and panted heavily, finally feeling how exhausted his body actually was. He squinted his eyes as the audience began to blur in front of him, and felt dizziness taking over his body. Not again. Minho pulled his earpiece out as a high-pitched tone rang through his ear and clutched his chest, pained. Fuck. He nervously glanced to the stage exit, debating if he should risk staying where he was or getting off stage before another debacle. 

"What the fuck is he doing?" Changbin asked worriedly. 

"He doesn't look good," Hyunjin agreed. They all glanced at Chan, who was anxiously chewing on his lower lip. The moment Minho sank down to his knees, head hanging low as he tried to hide his pain, Jisung, Felix, and Changbin held Chan back. 

"Hey, let me go! He needs help!" he protested. 

"Chan hyung, you can't storm on stage now, okay?" Seungmin told him. 

"There's staff already out there to help him," Jeongin pointed out as someone brought him water. 

"I told them it would be too much for him," Chan said weakly. 

"We know, he knows as well," Felix said calmingly. 

"Fuck it, I'm getting him off stage," Chan groaned and pushed them off before making his way on stage. 

"Fucks sake, Chan," Felix groaned. 

Minho looked up at him, surprised as Chan was suddenly kneeling down next to him and cupping his face. "Relax," he whispered, noticing the anxiety in Chan's eyes. "We're on stage, angel." 

"You got dizzy?" he asked gently, and Minho nodded. 

"It was a little too much," he told him tiredly. "My body hurt and gave up on me for a minute." 

"You think you can get up?" he asked, and Minho nodded bravely, letting Chan help him up. Chan wrapped his arm around him tightly and led him off the stage. As soon as they were backstage, Chan snapped at one of their staff members. "I told you it would be too much!" 

"Chan," Minho cut him off sharply, and everyone looked at him worriedly. "I said I would be fine. I overestimated myself, and my body showed me that I was not ready for this yet. It's fine, let it be." 

"You wouldn't have done it if they hadn't suggested it. You're trying to satisfy them again," he told him. 

Minho tiredly rubbed his hurting head and looked at the staff members. "Can you get the car, please? I need a break." They nodded at him and quickly called their car. 

"Wrong place, wrong time, Chan hyung," Jisung told him gently, letting Minho brace himself on his shoulder. "Come on, let's sit down somewhere until the car's here." Seungmin came to help and wrapped his arm around his waist, steadying him. 

Felix gently rested his hand on Chan's arm. "He needs his boyfriend now, not our leader," he told him softly, and Chan glanced at him nervously. 

"I just want him to be okay again," he confessed weakly. 

"We know," Changbin told him kindly. 

"You can still talk about schedules later. Right now, he needs a hug and you telling him he did amazing today," Hyunjin told him. 

"Go on," Jeongin gave him a gentle push. 

Chan groaned softly but did as they said and walked over to them. He crouched in front of Minho, and his heart fluttered at his boyfriend's tired smile. "Sorry, I lost my temper back there."

"You were worried, it’s alright," he told him kindly, not noticing Seungmin and Jisung leaving them alone. Minho gently reached out for him and fondled his hair. "I promise you, I'm okay. Just very tired." 

"I'm sorry I got scared for a second," he confessed and sat on the sofa next to him. Minho turned slightly and pressed his forehead against Chan's. Their hands found each other, and Minho squeezed it gently. 

"I'm here, I’m still conscious," he promised. 

Chan pulled him into his lap and hugged him close as Minho sank against him with a soft sigh. "You were amazing today. I'm really proud of you," he told him. 

"Thanks, Channie hyung," he smiled sweetly and closed his eyes. "I'm so tired," he said softly. 

"You can sleep. I'll take care of everything else," he assured him. Minho didn't need a second invitation. 

Chan carried him to the car later, protecting his head as he leaned down to sit him inside. He sat down next to him, letting him sleep on his shoulder. He carried him inside once they reached home. At home, he laid him down on his bed and filled the bathtub with warm water to soothe his hurting body. He got him undressed and into the tub, bracing him as he very gently washed his hair and body. Minho was only half awake throughout the process, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

Chan got him dressed again before carrying him downstairs and sitting on the sofa with him on his lap. Felix handed him a plate with some food, and Chan started feeding Minho slowly. Minho was barely able to keep his eyes open but made sure to eat a little, knowing he needed the energy. He grew heavy against him and fell asleep as soon as Chan started running his hand through his hair. 

The others all made sure to eat quietly and only talked with their voices lowered to give him some rest. Later, they put on a movie and gathered on the sofa around them, knowing if Minho woke up, he'd feel better seeing them continuing their day as always. He woke up later with a massive headache and winced softly as he moved on top of him. 

Chan looked down worriedly. "What's wrong?" 

"Headache," he groaned, melting into him as Chan massaged his scalp and temples. Felix came over with a glass of water and a pain pill for him, which he took, thankfully. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep again, curling up in Chan's arms. 

Chan kept on lovingly massaging his head for a while and smiled softly as Minho grew calm again. The others all slowly went to bed until it was just Chan, Jisung, and Minho left. 

"You need help carrying him upstairs?" Jisung offered quietly. Chan glanced down at Minho sleeping peacefully on his chest. 

"I think we'll just stay on the sofa for the night," he shook his head. "I don't want to wake him up again." 

"Alright," he nodded and gently patted Chan's shoulder. "Sleep well, Chan hyung." 

"You too, Hannie," he smiled and watched him leave. Chan got comfortable on the sofa and pulled Minho down with him, who stirred in his sleep. "It's fine, keep sleeping," he told him quietly, fondling his hair. Minho cuddled into him, and soon Chan fell asleep right after. 

Chp.19| Chp. 21

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[sassylegshayne]

marry me, idiot. chapter two

SURPRISE UPDATE!! I wasn't planning on posting chapter two yet but I'm just so excited that you guys are enjoying this piece so much!! I'm honestly having so much fun writing it!! chapter two is 3.5K words! lmk what y'all think!! xx mwah

series masterlist

"what's your ring size"

The text from Erin, the executive assistant, lit up your screen just past midnight.

You quickly responded, noting that it may have been a bit urgent if she texted you about it. You made sure to question her, your curiosity got the best of you.

"I have to buy you a ring before tomorrow Imfao, need a ring for the shoot"

The what? Spencer had failed to mention exactly what changed in his schedule, prompting you to quickly check your own.

"Spencer," You chastised him as you shut off the television, the episode of Friends almost over, causing a groan in frustration from him. "You didn't tell me we have a fucking shoot tomorrow!"

You huffed, your brows furrowed. Spencer couldn't hide the turn of his lips, his smile cracking through.

"Calm down, honey, it'll be fine." He put emphasis on the pet name, his voice just a bit lower than normal. Your eyes widened, surprised at every part of it, even more so as he placed a hand on your bare thigh.

"You okay?" He quipped, reaching across your lap for the remote, turning the show back on. Spencer gave your thigh a soft squeeze, enjoying this intimacy with you and the confusion that was written on your face.

"Did you lose your mind, Spence?" You felt like omething was short circuiting or misfiring in your mind because this isn't your Spencer. Your Spencer is nervous, fumbles with his words, making the most out of pocket comments in any situation, he doesn't do wel| with physical affection.

This Spencer was touching you, on purpose. He seemed so calm, do relaxed that it was managing to put you on edge.

"What? What're you talking about, dude?" Spence furrowed his brow, shaking his head lightly. "You're gonna be my wife in like a year, we can't start fighting the day we get engaged, it's a terrible look."

"The shoot tomorrow is gonna be chill, I was texting lan about it. Everyone at work is gonna know that it's fake so we'll be okay. He said that we're gonna stick to poses he seemed 'subtly romantic, whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean." Spencer was nonchalant, waving his hands around a bit as he spoke.

You nodded slowly, brows furrowed.

"Okay, yeah, that's fine. But what does that mean? Are they gonna make us be all cute and cuddly?" You sighed, nerves evident.

"Aren't we already?"

You would find out the following morning after the two of you arrived early to the building, clocks just shy of 7AM.

You rubbed your eyes, yawning as you entered wardrobe together, quickly being pulled in opposite directions to get ready. Spencer found his mind wandering to you as he went through the motions, curious about how it looked for you, what your time was entailing. You two finally met again at the front of the office, where you're greeted with a small group. Kiana, Spencer, and Brennan chatting as they awaited you.

You couldn't help but take in the simple outfit Spencer wore, it suited him well. He had a short sleeve, olive green button-up on, paired with dark khakis. It fit him so well that you knew Ki had picked it.

Spencer was glad to be ushered out of the building, finding himself speechless as soon as his eyes landed on you. You had on a tea length, light green dress. It had soft layers, accenting everything about you so beautifully; swaying with you as you walk.

Kianna had been saving the dress to gift to you, but as soon as she read the email, disregarding whether or not it was a joke, her heart called for it. She had the vision in her mind in an instant.

She's always known about the feelings you and Spencer had for each other, but couldn't bring herself to spill your guys' secrets. So she adapted early on, deciding to constantly poke at the two of you, dubbing you two work spouses.

Somewhere in the years since it started, as your feelings grew for each other, and Kiana heard everything from both of you, all she wanted was for the two of you to get together. She was so beyond excited with the stupid situation you'd put yourselves in.

Brennan drove the three of you out, both Spencer and you surprised to find that this was going to be a location shoot.

Kiana explained the ideas to you, talking about the field she had found that she thought was adorable. She went over some of the photo ideas, showing the two of you some references. She grinned as she spoke, evidently excited.

"Kiana, please take a deep breath, you're making me anxious." You laughed a bit, brows furrowed as she rolled her eyes. "I'm just excited, it's gonna be so cute and I'm excited to see y'all all cuddled up together."

She cackled a bit, turning around to grin at the two of you as Brennan tried to stifle his laughter.

With all the effort Kiana had already put into this, you could only imagine the delight she's taking in this.

Once you arrived, you stretched, yawning as Spencer approached you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You smiled brightly up at him, turning after a camera shutter sounds off. You find Kiana behind the lens.

On instinct you raise your free middle finger at her, used to this treatment already. Spencer copied you, his mind on the exact same page as yours.

Another shutter as Brennan and her laugh, Kiana giving a thumbs up as you and a Spencer hold in laughter.

"You guys nailed it, that's the perfect vibe for the shoot. Go get lost in the field while we set shit up." She waves you off, popping the trunk of Brennan's car.

Spencer hums the theme for Animal Crossing as you wander, laughing softly.

"This is chill, right? Like, Ki didn't pick out terrible stuff for us to do like, pose wise." Spencer shrugged as the two of you came to a stop. You stood, squinting as you faced him, the sun shining brightly now.

"I'm cool with everything, but can we agree to say something if we're not cool with it?" You held up your hand, your pinky finger extended to him.

Spencer scoffed, linking his finger with yours and shaking.

"Hell yeah, dude," He laughed as he kept shaking your intertwined hands. "Consent is key."

You doubled over in laughter, clutching your stomach as you shook your head. Spence rested his hand on your shoulder after a few moments, trying to calm you down.

"You really are The Chosen, Shayne was so spot on." Spencer rolled his eyes, pulling you into a hug. You rested your head on his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist.

You smiled as you finally caught sight of Kiana and Brennan positioned in front of you two. They were far enough away to be out of earshot, done purposefully by Kiana's call, but close enough for Brennan to work his magic.

Everyone of you had a very busy day ahead, so this would be a quiet time for each of you to enjoy.

You lifted your head, pulling Spencer's attention as he followed your gaze, laughing softly.

"You think they've been there a while, babe?" He asked, his tone shifting in the same way it did yesterday. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, squeezing you softly as you smiled at the camera.

You shifted a bit, chewing your lip as you tried to pretend that his tone and names didn't have an effect on you.

"They definitely have, I think Ki's gonna cry soon." You stated, turning to smile at Spencer, your heart melting as your eyes met. You played the moment up as he chuckled, knowing you were right, you cupped his cheek softly. Spencer followed your lead, resting one hand on your waist as his other rested atop your hand on his face.

"Oh shit," Spencer jumped a bit, Kiana's gasp heard as loud as could be as you two separate. He dug in his pocket for a second before grinning. "You need this."

He held his hand out, presenting your ring to you. It had completely slipped your mind, the conversation with Erin felt like it happened days ago.

It was a simple ring, but it was perfect. The silver band held a single faux diamond.

"Erin said it's stainless steel and cubic zirconia, you can wear it as much or as little as you want to, I think." Spencer spoke as you laughed, holding up your right hand, giving him the chance to slip on the ring for the first time.

The both of you could feel an intimacy in this moment, a shift in the air.

"Wrong hand!! Wrong hand, no!" Screams pulled your attention from the moment as Ki and Brennan frantically yell at you two, waving their hands around wildly. You two laugh as you lift up your left hand now. The tension you both felt in the moment had dissipated quickly, Spencer making no show of putting it on now.

You fiddle with it for a second before flicking your ring finger to the pair that had interrupted your bubble. Spencer laughs as the camera shutters again.

You liked to imagine that everytime your heart fluttered was when Brennan shot, because you hadn't noticed the sound again until now, so lost in your time with your best friend. He breaks you from your thoughts as Spencer grabs your waist, bracing your back with his other arm as he spins you away from the camera. He dips you as your mixed laughters fill the air around you once again.

The two of you spend a bit longer together, Kiana yelling instructions for how to pose before calling you in closer. The closer shots were very full of natural smiles and laughter, as your small group continued to crack each other up.

You soon wrapped, finally checking your phone, finding it just past ten in the morning. Your stomach growled as you all piled into the car again, agreeing to hit a drive thru.

"I'm honestly really upset with the two of you." Brennan spoke solemnly as Spencer and you slummed into the backseat, out of his eyesight in the rearview.

"I'm gonna be editing all day because there were too many good shots. I'm gonna have to stare at you two all day long."

You arrived back to the office, Erin's schedule, the one she rushed to add to your calendars this morning as you both changed, directed you towards the Pit stage.

Kiana was quick to push you two back to wardrobe, claiming that you couldn't wear your same outfits, it would out everything.

You slipped your jeans back on, and opted for a black pizza place shirt you kept at your desk. You greeted Spencer back at the stage, finding him in the same pants, now with his navy blue shirt from this morning.

Two identical yellow stools sat centerstage, a table placed in front of it. The lighting seemed more dim than usual, and maybe a more warm toned, too.

Eventually the pair of you were situated at the table, being told over and over again to scoot closer as they check the framing for the cameras.

"Okay!" Kiana clapped loudly as Spencer adjusted himself on the stool, looking to you with furrowed brows. You two were used to being close and touching, but it felt weird on camera.

You both decided to keep the physical affection to a bare minimum on screen, not wanting the internet to run too far with their ideas. It didn't mean the two of you were great at remembering that, but for the most part, this was the closest you two had been durning filming.

The weight setting in as you realize this would also be the first video with just you two, and it was a big joke.

You giggled a bit, earning a glare from Ki that silences you quickly.

"We're gonna do our announcement video. wanted to wait until you guys were more comfortable with faking a relationship, but we need this in case it leaks or anyone posts anything about it." She grinned, nodding. The both of you nodded along, Spencer rubbing his palms on his pants nervously.

He felt like he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs until his voice gave out. There wasn't a project Smosh had presented to a Spence that scared him, but he was a bundle of nervousness and terror right now. He was so scared by how natural all of this came to the both of you, granted, it had only been the one photoshoot. Still, the ring on your finger that you continued to fidget with weighed so heavily on his heart; he wanted so badly for it to be real.

"Spence? You good?" You ask, smiling softly as you glance at him, taking his right hand in your left, squeezing it gently. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he felt the cold metal of the ring press into his skin.

"Yeah, let's do this shit." He nodded, squinting his eyes as he smouldered at the camera, causing you to chuckle.

"Okay, let's do an intro, just introduce yourself and your roles, then you guys can take any explaining you'd like to do from there." Kiana grinned, giving you guys two thumbs up as she stood offstage.

You tooka deep breath, giving Spencera small hug before settling back in place, smiling brightly.

"Hey guys," You grin, waving at the camera.

"The editors are taking over the channel, Shayne and Courtney are no more." Spencer grinned, laughing softly. You rolled your eyes at him as Shayne's laugh is heard off camera.

"If you don't know who we are by now, this is Spencer." you gesture to the man beside you as he waves at the camera. "He's an editor here, and my best friend."

"Thank you, thank you. My college here with me today is Y/N." He began, grinning softly as he watched you pose, resting your head on your hands. "She's also an editor here, she's my best friend, and she's my fiance.'

He swiveled back to the camera, grinning brightly as you squealed, holding your left hand out proudly to the fans. A bright blush was apparent across your cheeks and Spencer's.

"So yeah, that's what this whole video is about today, which is probably a big shock to you guys, so we'd like to explain a little bit." You smiled brightly, grabbing Spencer's hand from his thigh to intertwine your fingers.

"Ki, how long have we been together? Cut this part, also, just, yanno.." Spencer trailed, waving his other hand around as he squinted, looking for Kiana.

"I'd say no less than two or three years." She shrugged, a few people mumbling in agreement.

"Four?" You shrugged, as Spencer mirrored your movement squeezing your hand.

"Cool, all good now, carry on." He laughed, as you shook your head, smiling at him as he began to get back on track.

"We've actually been dating for a little over four years now" He chuckled, chewing his lip glanced over at you. "We kinda just kept it to ourselves for a while, unintentionally. Like, we already posted about each other and cuddled and did super couple-ly shit, so the title change wasn't a big deal."

You couldn't stop yourself from staring at Spencer as he spoke, sounding so sincere and genuine that it tugged at your heart strings.

"We did also talk about keeping it from you guys, which wasn't easy, but we liked having the privacy of our relationship; it was fun to think that no one but us knew about us." You turned a bit, bumping your knees with his as Spencer stared down at his lap, grinning. This felt unreal. He couldn't believe this was something you two were in for together.

"We didn't intentionally keep it from everyone at Smosh, though!" You were quick to defend yourselves, eyes wide.

"That was an accident, but they found out when we moved in together, like, two years ago, so it's all cool now!" You grinned, winking at you gave the camera a thumbs up, Spence unable to contain his laughter beside you.

"It was just because we weren't quite prepared for how everyone on the internet would react, more so me than Spencer." You chuckled as he raised his brows, shrugging.

"Now I'm excited as fuck!" You grinned, bouncing in your seat a bit as Spencer laughed again.

He huffed, rolling his eyes as he pouted.

"C'mon, we're gonna have to edit that." He spoke low, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter, which spurred Spencer into a fit of his own. You two continued laughing for a bit, wiping tears when you calmed down, mindlessly creating more work for yourselves, again.

"We figured since we were gonna tell you guys about it, or since the internet figures everything out, why not make it more interesting? Plenty of people around Smosh have gotten married, sure." He scoffed, waving his hand as he spoke, feigning seriousness. You couldn't contain your giggles as Spencer spoke, nodding along with everything he said.

"Not once in those weddings were both of the parties Smosh employees, let alone two that were shipped online already!" He exclaimed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side for a warm hug.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as you grinned at the camera, resting your head on his shoulder.

"What all of that means is that this wedding is a pretty big deal for everyone here at Smosh. Especially with so many of our close friends being our coworkers." You spoke, gesturing to the people behind the cameras. A small cheer rang out from a few people in the crew, causing the both of you to smile.

"Soon, we will be uploading wedding themed Smosh videos!" You squealed, jumping a bit as you squeezed Spencer before you sat back onto your stool.

"We're not gonna do like, wedding videos, but themed ones, kinda like how the Smosh Games series worked. That means you're gonna get to see our usual content, just with a wedding twist. We have a Wedding Party Try Not to Laugh planned, right, Ki?" Spencer grinned, feeling the excitement bubbling in his chest the more he spoke.

Kiana called out an excited 'yes', her thumbs up again as some cheers erupted from the crew. Spoiling an upcoming video was not a concern for her at the moment as she watched her two best friends fall more in love with each other.

Ki was thankful that the lights were still bright enough to keep her from your sights as she stood, teary-eyed, her hands clutched at her chest.

"I think we have some video games, maybe a couple of our other original series too!" You grinned, nodding as you looked to Spencer, finding him already looking at you.

You two were pulled away as Kiana called for an outro. You were quick to start the end card part, glad to have an excuse to stop yourself from staring into Spencer's blue eyes.

The two of you quickly took off your mics before heading in opposite directions for lunch. You brought up the idea this morning on your way in together.

You were worried that Spencer would get tired of seeing you so much, especially with everything happening this quickly.

He was quick to insist that your assumption was false, claiming he'd spend forever with you, winking. Spencer was allowed to make these jokes now, you two were literally, well, more technically engaged. Still counts.

It was almost ironic when you enter your office to find Spencer eating at his desk.

You had initially headed in the opposite direction to find Patrick, needing to talk to him about a scene in a new skit.

You couldn't seem to figure out how exactly he wanted to timeline to run in the video, so it was fairly important.

After no luck with your search for the writer, you headed back towards your office, settling on ordering delivery.

You sat in your chair beside him, laughing softly.

"I thought you didn't wanna spend time with me on your lunch break." He chuckled as he wiped his mouth, setting down a container in front of you.

Spencer knew you well enough to order your food for you, expecting to find you seated beside him eventually. You like to make lunch plans with others early, you didn't often eat by yourself. You'd turn up at your desk after not making plans. He cared about you so much, fuck.

You couldn't help the blush the appeared on your cheeks every single time that Spencer did this, no matter how often it was.

He'd come in after you most mornings, greeting you with a kiss on the forehead as he places a coffee on your desk before sitting at his own. He'd check the time before you did, mindlessly ordering lunch for the two of you as you got lost in your work. You had a habit of accidentally working your way through your break, unless Spencer set a box in front of you, unaccepting of any money you tried to give him.

It was the little things that made you fall in love with you best friend. Love wasn't a word you used to describe your feelings to Kiana, scared you'd have to watch her explode, but you knew you were in love with Spencer.

You love him, romantically, and he loves you, platonically. That's fine.

"Spencer, I love spending time with you," You huffed, pouting softly as you popped open the box, finding your go-to order inside.

You hold your left hand up between the two of you. "I'm literally, technically about to spend forever with you, dude."

He laughed, flicking you off as he placed his headphones on, choosing to squeeze in some editing on his lunch break in-between your shoots.

In reality, Spencer didn't think he could spend his break talking to you like everything was normal. He still wanted to scream, maybe until he passed out now.

You scrolled on your phone, occasionally nudging the man beside you to show him something, Spencer huffing a breath of air out of his nose each time.

When you stood, Spencer was quick to pull off his headphones, rubbing his eyes a bit.

"Call time, big boy." You chuckled, reaching your hand down to rub his shoulder softly before you made your way towards the Pit set, again.

Spencer followed behind you, brows furrowed when his eyes landed on a certain someone standing on the stage. He subconsciously knew you had stopped to stare in confusion too.

[moonsidesong]

just caught up with Your Turn To Die and absolutely adored it the whole way through. it goes unbelievably hard. calling it Danganronpa But Good feels like an insult. but like... yeah what if danganronpa was good? or rather. game that makes me wish danganronpa was good.

it really keeps you on your toes the Entire time, which is why i ended up saving like......... every five to ten minutes, most times. i would say the only slower part is the minigames during chapter 2? but, i thought those were fun, and they were still broken up by plot important stuff, so i really didnt mind.

ive heard the game had a soundtrack release on CD a few years ago, but i cant seem to find much information about it? much less any resell listings. how sad... i love cd...

i wanna talk more in depth from here on out so spoilers under the cut! warning thoughts very disjointed. and i havent seen absolutely Everything the game has to offer yet (havent done any of the side stories, we'll do them soon probably) so if my takes are disproven by anything ive yet to see please do not tell me htank you

first off OHHH MY GODDDD THIS GAME IS SO MUCH LESS CREEPY ABOUT THE MINORS AND ITS SUCH A BREATH OF FRESH AIR COMPARED TO DANGANRONPA. its not perfect, of course, i do not entirely love the jokes(???) about keiji (known grown adult man) going on dates with sara (known teenage girl), but like, this game does not make me feel gross all the time? thank u nankidai for not making your teacher character with a close relationship with one of his former students a groomer! the bare minimum! im gonna hit kodaka with a stick this should not be a point in the game's favor.

anyway! ended chapter 2 with Reko and Sou (shin) alive, ended chapter 3 having lost Reko .. . :( shes my favorite... i was so sad... ranmaru we're not friends anymore/.... you suck... you killed my best girl... we um, did make a grand total of 175 save files though, so at some point me and the friend i played with are gonna go back and scrub through anything and everything that we missed. maybe after we do the side stories though, not sure yet. reko yabusame i swear to god i will crawl into the screen and kill ranmaru myself for you. i will save you. i love you so much mwah

for years ive only known midori as The Guy That Kids On Danganronpa Discourse Instagram Put Overdramatic Yet Also Somehow Extremely Haphazard Trigger Warnings on every post that included him, so i was really excited to meet him. and boy he did not disappoint this guys NUTS!!! HES CRAZAY!!!!!!!! he has such a perfectly striking look about him. i love how he almost never stops looking straight at you, and how his suit is stark black so it obscures a lot of his shape when he's in the dark, its so cool. they absolutely nailed the atmosphere whenever you're around this guy.

but the first jumpscare when he like reaches out at you from the coffin just kinda made me laugh. me when i get you

also, if you're this far in to care about my opinions on games you probably know that i am Known Danganronpa V3 Hater. i think in particular Kokichi Ouma is way too good of a character for how dogwater the game's actual plot is, and Shin Tsukimi, while not being the same, obviously, scratches that itch of a guy trapped in a death game that spends all his time lying and living under a persona because he's afraid of dying perfectly While Being In A Game That Doesnt Make Me Feel Like Eating Sheet Metal . i love this dude and his ugly several clashing colors outfit. he wants my ass like mega dead right now but thats not important surely

also, i think its sweet that joe and sara are just best friends and they rarely ever even entertain the idea that they had romantic feelings for each other. i think its extra sweet and tragic that joe was able to tell sara he loved her in the end, meaning it as his best friend. and the way the game completely ceases showing you flashbacks of him after that point and just lets the image of the hallucinations replace his actual memory overtime is so good and haunting. this doubled down by the way her memory of him is completely locked up as soon as she starts trying to actually remember the way he really was, its so good.

i think thats all i have to say for now, but umm!!! really really good im excited to go back and fill in the gaps i missed. especially regarding kanna becasue i have a lot of theories about her that i hope im on the right track about #lol. but even if i dont i want to see her i miss her. yaay!!! i love when video games are good. i love you video games.

ill probably make more posts down the line with more thoughts after i let them marinade in my brain for a while... mostly when i have thoughts ive been sending them to the friend im playing with so we can discuss theories together LOL

[an-aura-about-you]

ok I have eaten some food, got my emotional support tv show on, and have mostly gotten over the weird bout of pity that stopped me in my tracks somewhere in the middle of Chapter 6 of Handbook for Mortals, so let's press on.

Chapter 6 part 2:

when we last left our hero Scheherazade went on a camping trip with the others, I joked about how she doesn't have any friends, and then I kinda bluescreened when she actually told Mac that it was nice pretending she had friends. that was supposed to be a funny ha ha joke I made and it sent me on a weird pity spiral for the author who wrote a self-insert mary sue that gets everything the author's ever wanted and even in that fantasy she doesn't have friends.

so let's keep going after that with the rest of Chapter 6: The Moon

-Mac's conversation with Zade doesn't last much longer after that as Riley pulls him away, which is an opening for the Mean Girl Squad to roll in.

-Sofia and her fellow mean girl Mel (who was awkwardly introduced in another chapter but everybody makes fun of that bit so let's just cut to the chase) approach and flank Zade with Sofia even throwing an arm around Zade's shoulders. Zade also figures Mel is Sofia's closest friend. which, wow, your mean girl antagonist has a friend and you don't? I actually do think that's a bit telling for reasons we're gonna get to in a moment.

-also Zade is sticking to her story that Sofia pushed her after she regained consciousness post-accident:

Maybe she was trying to be nicer since I had saved her life. Somehow I doubted that, considering she still hadn't even thanked me--or even apologized for being mean and pushing me away when I was in the middle of saving her life.

you know what, Zade? you'd probably have more friends if you didn't lie about shit for pity points. yes, it would be nice if Sofia thanked Zade for what she did, but if someone saved my life and then made up shit about what actually happened to make me look bad, I would be less inclined to do it.

-while I know the intention is for Sofia and Mel to taunt Zade that going after Mac is hopeless because he doesn't date performers, Zade is being really judgemental about them. she mentally calls Mel dumb even though Mel hasn't said anything dumb. all she's said is that Mac has a rule about not dating performers and that he lives by his rules, the latter of which we know because he and Zade almost came to blows about it back in Chapter 2.

-Zade claims that she wants to get along with everyone but makes absolutely zero efforts to do this. I mean she could be lying to them, which is possible since we already caught her in a lie on the previous page.

-Zade mentally expresses a desire to spit in their faces. I wouldn't usually think of that as violent, but I'm not sure how many tallies I wanna keep up for Zade and it IS insulting, so I'm adding it to the violent thoughts tally.

-oh jesus christ. Zade talks like a goddamn alien. the whole reason I have trouble with buying that Zade is southern is shit like this:

"Well, as we say in the South, bless your heart...and...uhh...thanks for the advice, or whatever you're calling it, but we are just friends."

look. I can't drop a Bless Your Heart to save my life, but I have been known to drop an, "Oh Honey..." every now and again to similar effect, and that is not how you do it! and earlier when she was talking to Jackson we get a little mental montage of all the stereotypical southern things like sweet tea, fried food, and biscuits and gravy. I've been known to drag sweet tea, but I give it a proper context when I do and don't just randomly mention it as proof that I'm from the south. Zade doesn't feel southern; she feels like she is pretending to be southern and failing miserably.

here, let me see if I can revise this into something at least a little more natural. this is how I would probably do it if I had to write such a scene:

"You're doing all this just to look after me?" I put a hand to my chest, click my tongue, and say, "Well, bless your heart, but I promise I'm a big girl, can tie my own shoelaces and everything. I think I'll just handle my own affairs, thank you kindly."

-"Zade: one; stupid girls: zero," you say? funny, I don't see any stupid girls. Sofia is a bit catty, reckless, and flirty, and... and beautiful... and... and... ough. I think I hauve covid.

anyway, my point is she's not done anything actually stupid. the closest thing was not wearing her safety harness on the catwalk, but we've already been over that and how unfair that whole situation was. I'm not about to say Sofia did nothing wrong, but I'm really pissed off at how stacked the deck is against her.

and this is the only time we've really seen anything with Mel as her only role in her previous scene was carrying out Drew's birthday cake.

Zade is just being pointlessly mean here even after she chided herself all the way back in Chapter 1 that she shouldn't be so judgemental.

-Mell challenges Zade with, "You actually think you're hotter than either one of us?" which is like. a ridiculous thing to ask but not as ridiculous as Zade's answer. which, Zade says she thinks on her answer so it's actually a good one and not just spiteful, but this is what she gives us:

"Physically?" I replied. "No, not a chance. You're both far more beautiful than I am, if we're talking about the outside. But have you ever bothered to see what you look like on the inside? There's a song called 'Ugly Girl' that I swear is about both of you. I'll play it for you sometime."

show of hands, how many of you reading this think Sofia and Mel would laugh at that? I know my hand is up.

-"Sometimes I wished I could be the star in my own movie so at moments like that the song I was thinking of...could start playing." reminder that Zade is aware that she is writing a book. she explicitly establishes all the way back in Chapter 0 that she is aware that she is relating a story to us. my own guess is this is just an awkward reworking of the original movie script this book was adapted from.

-also, for as ugly as Zade claims Sofia and Mel are on the inside, at least they are actually friends. Mel apparently has no skin in this game and doesn't understand why Sofia cares but went along with the mean girl shtick because Sofia asked her to. I mean, yeah, it's not a nice thing that Sofia's asking Mel to do, but it's good to know Sofia can rely on Mel for backup.

-Mel also apparently tried sleeping with Mac once with her only motivation being that he's hot and she'll sleep with anyone hot. I think this is Sarem trying to hit us with some evil promiscuity shit but honestly I love that for Mel. hell yeah have fun girl!!

-Mel doesn't get why Sofia might be interested in trading out Charles for Mac and Sofia is quick to clarify that she's not. that's more or less their conversation as Mel is about to flirt with a hot guy.

-the narration says they were harassing Zade and like. yeah, ok, I will admit that is what they were doing, but they were good at the subtle hand bit of it. they came up to Zade under the guise of offering her friendly advice as a way to needle her and didn't get hostile until Zade sniped back. that's some skill.

-Jackson has seen the whole encounter and takes a moment to simp for Zade by telling Sofia and Mel to their faces that he thinks Zade is hotter than both of them on the outside as well. I'm with Sofia on this one as she ends the chapter by calling Jackson a jerk under her breath.

god. you don't think Sarem would try to get Jackson Rathbone to play Jackson Milsap if she ever gets the movie going, do you? after he's made it public that he doesn't like her. I mean, we know he'd say no unless he's super desperate since Sarem still fully intends to play Zade and I know Zade and Jackson have some kissing scenes later. but then idk if that would even hold up unless this does turn into a Salome/The Room/Breeniverse type thing where Sarem decides to just make it herself. man, if he did end up in it I can see him playing the entire movie like

there he is, a performance with all the charisma of a man who's not sure he should risk a fart because the Taco Bell isn't exactly sitting right with him and calculating the path of least resistance to the nearest toilet just in case. (or possibly wanting to rip some throats out.)

[dsudis]

[Redacted: Urbe Aurea #5] literally every time I think of it I have to go back and read that series (Geralt: the ballroom scene ♥️ so funny, so cutting) Julena ♥️ Can't wait for more Eskel/Emhyr

I'm only a little way into the second chapter of it, and it will be the longest of the series by a considerable margin, because, I mean. It is gonna require some plot machinations to get Eskel to let Emhyr be nice to him beyond impersonal hospitality.

Also, this is the story where Lambert finds out what Geralt has been up to, so. This is going great for everyone.

(And if anyone else wants to poke me about a WIP, my original post for this meme has the list!)

"Been in Nilfgaard," Geralt said. "Not the whole time, but I'll probably mostly be there for a while--until Ciri's coronation, anyway. That's where Eskel found me." 

Lambert gave a short jerk of a nod to Eskel, which Geralt interpreted as approval for his feat of tracking Geralt down. He wondered how much longer it would have taken for Lambert to use that portal Ciri had left to come through to Nilfgaard looking for him, and rubbed at his mouth, remembering the feel of Eskel's fist smacking into it. 

At least Lambert wouldn't have that objection to Geralt getting involved with the Emperor of Nilfgaard. On the other hand, Geralt probably couldn't use that method to reconcile Lambert to the idea; he and Lambert had messed around plenty of times over the years, but it had never had the kind of weight to it that things with Eskel had, long before Geralt knew to put a word to that. 

He wondered if that meant that Lambert hadn't ever had anything that felt like that, and then remembered the way Lambert had spoken about his Cat friend, Aiden, and forced himself not to think of any of that right now.  

"I, uh... Emhyr decided to..." Geralt glanced toward Eskel, who just looked amused, and Lambert, whose scowl was darkening. "To be... friendly, I guess. Wanted to, ah--" 

"You're fucking the Emperor of Nilfgaard?" Lambert demanded, but Geralt could hear the laugh lurking behind the incredulous outrage and couldn't help grinning.

Lambert could mock him about this to the end of time; that would be fine. That would mean Lambert sticking around, rather than cutting all ties with him after re-classifying him from second-to-last surviving brother to imperial quisling. 

Lambert went serious suddenly and looked to Eskel without saying anything, and for a moment Geralt couldn't read him at all. Then Eskel sighed, shaking his head a little, and stepped forward to hug Lambert tightly, murmuring something in his ear as he did.  

Geralt waited without even breathing, until Lambert huffed out a breath and leaned into it, closing his arms around Eskel and giving Geralt an ordinary sort of scowl over Eskel's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "If you told him it was all right I guess it's all right. I mean it's fucked up beyond telling, but all right." 

Eskel gave Lambert's back a couple of firm pats and stepped back, throwing Geralt a look that said Geralt had better remember which one had just pulled the other out of trouble. Geralt would, of course, but, "So anyway, Eskel, tell Lambert why we're here!" 

Eskel glared harder; Geralt grinned. Eskel shut his eyes. "We have a contract on some wraiths at some elven ruins on property owned by--the Emperor." 

Lambert squinted at Eskel and shifted his attention to Geralt. "So Emperor Boyfriend..." 

"Emhyr noticed that Eskel was getting bored hanging around Nilfgaard, and he thought, what makes a witcher happy? And he offered us a job." 

Lambert squinted harder. "What... what? Eskel." 

"I am," Eskel grated out, "not fucking the Emperor of Nilfgaard." 

"Yet?" Lambert demanded, voice pitching up into outrage all over again.  

Eskel tilted his head. "I mean, the more time he spends trying to seduce another witcher for his collection, the less time he can devote to conquering the fucking world, right?" 

"Yeah, that's very fucking noble of you," Lambert snapped. "Geralt, does your fucking boyfriend know I exist?" 

"Yes," Geralt said promptly, because lying would be worse. "But he doesn't know where, and I didn't tell him to expect you to visit or anything. Although you could, if you want to see Ciri. I don't think he intends to keep expanding his collection indefinitely." 

"Yeah, you say that," Lambert muttered. "Like you'd even be able to tell. Ugh. Wraiths, you said?" 

[blnk338]

Could you share the issue regarding the inclusivity poll please? The one you said was resolved? Just so it helps other writers. I think it's important to share such information<3 or maybe do some notes us other writers should be aware of?

I didn't vote because I am not a poc but since we're on the topic of reader insert: the one thing I felt a bit uncomfortable with was "your mom's name" when reaper was visiting her mom. I personally don't have an issue imagining myself as an oc persona such as a ripped reaper but my mom is so nice and that part bugged me. For example, I feel like parents' names shouldn't be inserted or mentioned at all. OR give them a random name at the beginning as a starter disclaimer. Just a personal thought. Everything else is very much well thought through. Kudos as always 😉

hello!!

so the issue that was brought up from the poll was solved here, but i have so far not gotten a response for the "not good" answer. i suppose it could have been a misclick or perhaps someone just wanted to see the answers and didn't read the title first, but if there was an issue (or issues) that caused them to genuinely pick that answer, i'd love to be able to fix it!

some general notes when it comes to writing a race-neutral mc:

don't describe showers (or really, certain morning/night routines); it's important because a lot of people don't wash their hair every day. whether it be for preference, for hair type, or for how they wear their hair, it can be alienating to detail every shower as "washing your hair."

this mistake was actually corrected in the tagged post-- but be aware of how some skin scars! it had slipped my mind that not all scarring ends up pinkish-- it'll just be a dimmer version of the person's skin tone.

don't use major descriptors for hair. "billowing in the wind," "[your ponytail] pulled at your scalp," "curling around the face." all of these can be linked to a certain hair type, usually.

when describing skin, use vague terms. for example "the light from the shades dappled across your skin," instead of "the light sheened off your pale skin."

"your cheeks grew pink," "your face went red," can't always be applied to people with darker skin tones. but yk what can? growing physically warm, sweating, getting goosebumps, or feeling rushes of adrenaline! if you're gonna write something fluffy, make sure everyone gets included.

sometimes eyebags aren't easily seen, either. a lack of melanin means the purple under the lids sticks out more, but eyebags are also sometimes visible with creases, puffiness under the eyes, or a slight droop.

don't go into major detail with facial features. when describing reaper's facial scarring, i keep it general and try not to describe how lips look, whether freckles are cut up from the scarring, etc.

also, when i talk about reaper's mask, i don't talk much about her nose. obviously, larger noses might stick out more from the base of the mask, but plenty of people have flattened noses, so that wouldn't really work. instead, i used a general description (not verbatim) "fits perfectly to your nose."

bonnets and durags! people wear them all the time! in the house, out of the house, but for sleeping, too! mention them as an option for your readers to better immerse them.

really try to remember, especially as a white person, that most fanfics (intended or not) use white people as a default. there're probably a lot of people who will enjoy your fic more if they can see themselves in place of the mc. if you don't sit back, reread your chapter and think "yeah, i could picture anyone in this position" (unless the fic is specified to be black!reader x character or something of the variation), you might want to change it up.

thank you for the comment on reaper's moms name! i sort of can't change that much considering how far we are into the series, but I've removed the times where specifically "your mom/mother's name" (or a variation) was mentioned. (let me know if i missed anything).

sorry about dissing your mom, I'm sure she's lovely :) (/gen)

i also partially didn't add any details on reaper's mom's name because i didn't want to allude to any specifics on reaper's background

thank you so much for the support!

as a small disclaimer... i'm really grateful to get this kind of feedback, from my readers of color and not, it's great to hear how I'm doing because i want to make a fun fic for you guys! if the change is something quick and easy (like this and the tagged message), i don't mind it!

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

Weekly Update for 9 December, 2022

Oh my god, is that one of them Weekly Updates?! Why, yes it is! I'm hoping to get back into writing after my break, and we'll be doing weekly updates on the weekends (Friday-Sunday, one of those three).

First order of business: we're back to Mind Games: Trepidation! It has been a joy to slowly go through and edit and add new content into the game! I am hoping to get through Chapter 4 sometime this weekend, and then get back into writing Chapter 5! We're sticking to typical writing strategy in that I'll right the rough draft with only one choice reflected and variant scene in every place, then go back through and broaden things. I might also start taking time to step away after finishing a chapter, and coming back to it after I've let it stew for a while.

I will say, writing will probably not be as fast as it was back when I first started the Mind Games series. Not for a long time, anyway. And, to try to keep myself from getting burnt out, I'm also going to keep crocheting and I'm actually working on making a Tumblr for it as my shop for art and crochet work will be under a different name when it eventually comes out. I think having more than just ONE creative output will really help me from stagnating when there was only writing; now I have writing, crochet, and I'm getting back into art! It's all very exciting, and I actually think it'll help with keeping my mind fresh.

Lastly, I've debated it for some time, but I am going back to Patreon. However, things are going to be so much different. I used to struggle so badly with how much I needed to do to make sure all tiers got everything for the month on top of work and everything else in my life, and I was setting deadline after deadline when I am not someone who works well under time constraints. So, solution: there is two tiers: one opens ONLY the Update+ content, and the other opens up ALL posts, both from now and the past! Ko-fi will sometimes still get its own scenarios, but they will mostly be commissions and random little scenarios. The first monthly bonus content will be a wintry scenario with Loche :3

P.S. I'm also going to get a linktree up, and put it in the bio just to make things easier!

Okay! That's all I got. I'm gonna go back to editing and crocheting and writing winter scenarios. You guys take care and I'll see you at the next one! <3

[instantlandtimemachine]

Welcome to the very first junkbots chapter, this AU has been getting some support from those who liked my posts so thanks to all who liked 👍

Let's get into this saga with:

CHAPTER 1 - ESCAPE FROM THE HEAP.

In a New York city in the current day and age, things are going shit for humanity, and soon things will get much worse for everyone and everything, but you wanna know what brave guys are not having any problems?

These are the junkbots.

A bunch of lovable goods who live in an abandoned junkyard, which they call "the heap".

There's the leader of the team - jack static.

His friend Arielle 51.

The anxious boxstritch

And the bit who knows magic, sage.

They're currently trying to build a car so they can learn to drive.

Sage: jack my boy, we need a steering wheel, I think there's one just over there!

Jack: alright sage, I'll be back soon.

As Jack walked around the old and trashed place, he heard a clanging in the various metals and waste, unnerved but determined, jack set off to find the steering wheel.

Boxstritch: hey sage, have you seen the giant spacecraft in the sky?

Sage: wait, what?

Arielle: Sweet! A photo opportunity!

Sage: are you serious?

Arielle: eh, it's a cool moment.

As the mysterious spacecraft started to come to orbit, hordes and hordes of heavily armed crash test dummies jumped out, and were immediately destroying everything in sight.

Jack: *gasp*, HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I can't let this go to waste, it's fighting time!

???: Hello there friend!

Jack: GAAAAAAAAAH!

???: WAAAAAAARGH!

As Jack came across the startled blue bot, jack became scared.

???: Don't be scared, I'm M.O.E, the mechanical operations expert! (And yes my name is an acronym).

Jack: nice to meet ya M.O.E, I'm jack static!

M.O.E: I'm here to get you outta this dump, because an Invasion is here!

As the bots looked around, the dummies were armed with guns of all shapes and sizes, and started tearing down the junkyard.

Jack: WHAT!?

As Jack's mind was about to snap, he gained a power that he had hidden in himself, he could run at Mach speed.

Jack: Oh hell yeah.

Crash dummy: aw fuck, he can run fast!

Jack: and I'm about to kick your metal ass.

Crash dummy: get him troops!

The enraged bot used his powers to fight the dummies, tearing them apart one by one.

M.O.E: hey static, tray holding hands with everyone and running really really fast!

Sage: I heard that!

Jack grabbed everyone by their hands (except boxstritch, he held him by his leg), and ran so fast, he traveled across dimensions, and to brighton falls, 1987.

CHAPTER 2 -BOTS AND HUMANS.

Arielle: woah! How could you do that?

Jack: I simply got so pissed that I could run at Mach speed!

Boxstritch: that's impressive.

Jack: but I'm really exhausted, I'm gonna go to sleep in this car... *Sleeps*

M.O.E: well he would get tired eventually.

As Jack slept in the automobile, the other guys decided to find a hiding place, and they found: a wheelie bin.

Sage: is this really where we're gonna be hidden?

Arielle: it's worth a shot.

A few hours had passed, and the car jack was in, had left.

Sage: oh fuck no!

Boxstritch: does he still have his gun?

Sage: of course he does! He also has a wrench for melee combat.

As Jack woke up, he found himself in a moving vehicle, with 2 people talking to eachother at the same time.

Jack: aw fuck, I can't get out now, but wait, I can hear some dicks being dicks!

As our hero overheard the ruckus, he got an insane idea.

Jack: this just might work.

Jack grabbed his gun and said to every teenager in the area:

Jack: LISTEN UP YOU BOZOS! This here girl is really really mean, look it this fine lad with the afro and the girl with the denim, do you really think they should get bullied? I say we all beat her up! What do you say?

Random teenager: he naturally has a point. Let's get her!

Jack's rousing speech had turned all the teenagers against Tina lark, and also his speech had also made it to the workers of hot dog on a stick, and they bet up their boss Craig.

???: Wow, how'd you do that!

Jack: I have no idea, but I'm jack static.

???: I'm Charlie Watson and this is my good friend memo.

Memo: yo!

Jack: my universe is really fucked up, and a bunch of evil dummies have destroyed my home, so could we team up?

Charlie: hell yeah, I'm dow-

Jack: aw shit, it's one of their ships!

Memo: get in Bumblebee.

Jack: who the fuck is Bumblebee?

Charlie: you'll see In Due time.

Jack and his newfound team members escaped back to the house that the junkbots had first rushed into.

M.O.E: eh jack, I see you made some new buds? Anyways, we're getting outta here, with this warp core and this microwave!

???: Who woke me up?

Charlie: aw fuck, Otis, we're escaping our world.

Otis: aw hell no.

Memo: ok lil' man, go tell your parents (or parent).

M.O.E: all done!

Boxstritch: so where are you warping is now TV-face?

M.O.E: have you eve been to a space city before? Because that's where we're going!

Sage: it is called the "crossroads" perhaps?

M.O.E: bonus points for funky wizard bot, you're correct!

Sage: oh boy! I've been here before! I can show you all around.

Arielle: that's great and all, but now we gotta go!

Boxstritch: we're warping in 3, 2, 1!

And so - our heroes warped into the space city, ready for a new adventure.

Also, I forgot to show the character images of Charlie, memo and Otis so here they are.

[pentechnics]

Promises

Chapter 13 of Of Love and Time

Summary: As you recover, you get some discerning news from work. It forces you into an agreement that's easy to make, but near impossible to keep.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Series content: teacher/parent AU, fluff, slow burn, lots of mutual pining, sexual tension, mentions of past trauma (tagged in detail for specific chapters), depictions of violence (nothing explicit, no gore), angst, a dash of hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Grogu is at the equivalent age of a human 4-year-old and can speak

Notes: I am SO SORRY it took this long to get this one out. This was not intended. But between having other projects and being out of town and not working on any of my WIPs for two whole weeks, it just played out like this. And it was important to me that I didn't rush it, because it's an important chapter! They all are, but since we're nearing the home stretch of this fic, it's all the more important that I'm 100% confident with a chapter before posting it. Also? Not gonna lie, this one was kinda painful to write. I'm sure you'll get why as you read lmao.

I hope you all can understand! And I hope you enjoy this one despite the happenings sljkdhglskg I promise I'll make this all worth it! Please let me know what you think!

Thank you so much for sticking by me and being so patient and wonderful. It makes me want to keep writing! And I'm going to do whatever I can to make the wait for ch14 much shorter than this one. SO, SO much love to you all! ❤️

As always, taglists is under the cut! Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!

You did end up relapsing in the night. Din stayed with you the entire day, hardly letting you so much as scratch your head without making sure you were okay. As horrid as your body felt, you were grateful for his extended stay, even as you protested him calling in from work.

“There are plenty of other mechanics that work there. It’s an emergency, they’ll understand,” he’d said. You just sighed and rolled your eyes.

Between medicine doses and ensuring your stomach would not reject your meals, the two of you continued to talk and watch more episodes of Parks and Recreation. You noticed Din getting more and more into it, which filled you with joy. Even though you couldn’t see his expressions, you reveled in every little reactionary movement or comment he gave.

You weren’t prepared to get emotional over Leslie and Ben’s breakup. Watching Leslie be forced to love Ben secretly from afar, to pretend she didn’t love him around others, scramble to seize every little excuse to be near him, tugged at your heart. Especially as she opened up to Ron:

“We broke up because of me. But I have to tell you, Ron, if the world was ending tomorrow… I’d want to be with him.”

You sniffed and wiped away a stray tear from your face. It was way too close to home.

A warm touch on your shoulder brought you out of the data pad’s screen and back to your room. Din rubbed his thumb up and down as he gave your shoulder a squeeze. You smiled and scooched a bit closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you in response.

“Well, that’s significant. Problem is, Leslie, the world’s not ending tomorrow. The sun is gonna rise right over there. It’ll be a regular Friday, and you’ll be in the exact same position you were in before.”

You sighed. This was the first time you couldn’t wait for the school year to end. The first time you actually longed for it to end. And yet it dragged itself out in a cruel and tortuous dance of torment. And situations like the one you were currently in teased a reality that could come to fruition if only the circumstances would change sooner. Your hand clung to Din’s. He squeezed it.

How could something feel so good while also causing so much pain?

~~~~

Your symptoms began to ebb away later that day. Relief filled your system when you kept down a meal without any objections from your body.

Din stayed over that night as well, and when you awoke the next morning, he was still asleep.

You took a deep breath as you stretched. The strength had been restored to your body, head devoid of anguish. You smiled and looked over at him.

He laid against the pillow, helmet turned upward. Tiny modulated snores weaved their way to your ears. You giggled. One of his hands was resting on his stomach, which rose and fell with his breathing. The other was resting between your bodies.

With a smile, you shifted onto your side and placed your hand into his. His fingers immediately clamped around yours. You squeezed his hand and brought it closer to you, running your thumb up and down his finger.

Waking up next to Din felt more natural than it should have. Falling asleep beside him brought you so much peace that you got some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You weren’t sure why this wasn’t scaring you the way it typically should be, but you were not complaining.

You stared at his hand. Far bigger than yours, skin so surprisingly soft given his current and prior occupations. You turned it over. Tiny scars decorated his knuckles and some other areas across the back of his hand. They were mostly smooth to the touch. You wondered where they came from; had a bounty earned a swift punch to the face? Did someone try to rob him and get obliterated for it? Or did he just stumble and bump into something while chasing Grogu?

You scooched forward and planted a small peck on his knuckle. Your cheeks grew warm as your lips lingered there, smiling against his hand.

Wow. You loved kissing his skin. It was delicate, warm, sweet like honey. You wanted more. Maybe someday, you thought to yourself.

Someday, if we get really lucky.

You backed away and looked at his head once more. It had not moved from its position. The snores had tapered off, but his breathing was still even. You closed your eyes again and nestled into your pillow, threading your fingers between Din’s.

~~~~

After making extra certain that you’d be okay and had everything you needed, Din packed up to leave that afternoon. You watched from the bottom of the stairwell as he replaced each piece of beskar, shielding the lovely skin you were now all too familiar with, and yet not familiar enough.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your disappointment. Having Din here with you was the most alive and relaxed you’d felt in so long, despite what your body was going through. You couldn’t help thinking about how empty your home would seem after he was gone.

You descended the rest of the stairs as he finished putting on his boots and securing his bag over his shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Din. These past couple days…” you trailed off, staring into that black ‘T’ that had quickly become one of your favorite sights.

“... They’ve been wonderful.”

He stepped forward to meet you.

“Thank you for letting me stay. I’m just glad you’re getting better.”

You smiled.

“You’ll call me if you need anything?”

You laughed and nodded.

“Yes, don’t worry.”

“And you’re still okay with me checking in later this week?”

“Yes, though you really don’t have to, you’ve already done so much.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He took a step closer, and slowly removed his gloves once more. He held out his bare hands to you; you placed yours into them and he wrapped his fingers around yours. You sighed as the familiar pillowy warmth encased your skin. He squeezed your hands.

“Everything I’ve done for you… I have done because I want to.”

You stared at him as the warmth of his words cascaded through your veins. He tilted his head forward, shoulders rising and falling with his breathing. Your mind was suddenly filled with the image of him walking out of your door and speeding away. It tore at something inside you; you squeezed his hands back. He ran his thumbs over your knuckles a few times before moving to hold both of your hands in one of his. With his freed hand he reached up and lifted the lip of his helmet. He brought your hands up-

Two light, gossamer kisses were placed against each set of your knuckles. Tiny pricks from his stubble grazed against your fingers. You held your breath as his soft lips lingered just a moment longer than they had to, smiling against your skin. You were certain your heart had stopped.

He lowered his helmet once more and gave your hands another squeeze before letting them go and replacing his gloves.

“Get some rest, Miss. I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded and cleared your throat.

“Give the family my regards.”

“I will.” he said with a nod.

He turned towards the door and opened it. You stood in the frame as he descended the small set of stairs.

“Oh-”

He turned back around.

“Take another look at the card the kids made for you. I think you missed something.”

You furrowed your brow and craned your head to look at it for a moment, still wedged against the wall.

“Okay.”

Your eyes didn’t leave Din’s figure as he made his way towards the curb and mounted his speeder bike. Your heart lurched when he revved it up.

“I’ll see you soon,” he called, “I promise.”

With that he began a slow descent down the street, looking back at you a few times before turning his full attention to the road. You stayed put until his speeder was out of sight.

You closed your door and slumped against it, a wave of emptiness overwhelming your senses. You looked around. The house was so silent now. So vacant.

So lonely.

You held your hands together in front of you. The spots Din had kissed carried a pleasant tingle. You brought one of them up to your own lips.

If only, you thought to yourself.

You looked up and your eyes fell onto the yellow poster paper poking out from behind your holostand. You pushed off the door and retrieved it. When you settled on the couch you took a closer look at the cover, giggling all over again at the pictures the children had drawn. You opened it up and reread every message. The one that referenced the song had your heart swelling once more. But you couldn’t find anything you hadn’t already seen.

You were about to put the card aside again when something on the back caught your eye. When you turned it over, you couldn’t believe what you were looking at.

Written in silver marker was a scribbled message that read,

‘This Mudhorn will protect you and make sure you get better. As long as you have it, you’ll be okay and we will be here for you. I love you so much Miss! Big hug! -Grogu’

Next to his words was a beautiful drawing of a Mudhorn skull — an exact replica of the signet Din wore on his armor. The one that represented his clan, his family, and the battles he fought while bringing it together.

You stared at Grogu’s message, reading it over and over again. And you stared at the Mudhorn signet. A couple tears ventured from your eyes and left tracks down your face. The moisture clung to your skin and crinkled with the movements of your muscles.

Grogu was a talented artist, yes, but there was no way he drew this all by himself. You bit your lip as more tears blurred your vision. You looked up to prevent them from spilling onto the card. Your heart heaved in your chest.

This made you miss them both all the more than you already did. It made you want to be by their sides all the more than you already did.

It made you want to give them your whole heart… all the more than you already did.

~~~~

The day dragged on into the next one, you limping from room to room, making sure to take your medicine and drink lots of fluids, as per Din’s instructions. That afternoon you reached into your fridge, where he’d kept a couple meals prepared for you. You smiled at his kindness, grateful that some aspects of your home were still marked by his presence. And when you closed the door there stood the Blurrg drawing Grogu had given you, front and center. The thought of him made you sigh; not having seen him in almost a week brought you a cloud of sadness.

While the food was warming up, your comm buzzed in your pocket. It was Gila.

You furrowed your brow; she should still be at work. She never made personal calls at work. Anxiety prickled in your fingertips while you pressed the ‘link’ button.

“Gila? Is everything okay?”

“How are you feeling, any better?”

“I’m getting there,” you started, “this is weird though, you don’t usually make personal calls during work hours.”

“And this isn’t one, sadly,” she said with a sigh. Your stomach dropped.

“What is it, what happened? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine, don’t worry.”

After that answer, she was silent on the other end for much longer than you could stand. You tried to steady your breathing as you waited, giving her space to speak. She finally sighed.

“First off, I’m sorry to be calling you when you’re at home at all, let alone while you’re sick. If the school year wasn’t ending and this wasn’t time sensitive, I wouldn’t have. But someone came in and filed a report against you the other day.”

Your stomach dropped again.

“A family? A parent?”

“No. A faculty member.”

Your eyes bulged from your head. Which of your coworkers would have possibly had an issue with you?

“What kind of report?”

“Inappropriate behavior.”

She went into the details: the report had accused you of having inappropriate relations on school property with a student’s parent. Your student’s parent.

“But here’s the real reason I called — they essentially said they saw you and the tin man making out in your classroom, but that would be impossible since he never takes off his helmet. Either way I would’ve called you, but this part is especially not adding up to me.”

You scoffed at the words.

“What the hell?” you said, “Gila, I swear, there’s no truth to that statement.”

“And I believe you,” she said, “but I have no say in this; I’m still going to need an official statement to take with me to the Board if you’re going to appeal this.”

“Can you tell me who submitted the report?”

“Technically, I really shouldn’t — confidentiality and all.”

You searched your brain for any possible contenders. Almost all of the teachers had been around your room throughout that night, so this had to have been someone lurking around near the end of the night, after most folks had gone home… Perhaps someone who hadn’t shown themselves to you, but that you knew for sure was present-

One face stood out in your mind. You groaned and ran a hand through your hair.

“It was Bo, wasn’t it?”

Her silence was enough to answer your question.

“That creep, why would he lie about something like this?”

“I don’t know. But I need you to tell me what really happened.”

You walked through the entire night with her. Every last detail, including when your crown fell and Din helped you replace it on your head. You could hear the faint scratching of Gila’s pen as she took note of your story.

“And I have witnesses to all of this. Not just Din, but the rest of his family was there as well.”

“A- Din? Since when were you and tin man on a first-name basis?”

“Not now, Gila — the point is, would that help?”

“Yes, it would. If they were willing to provide statements. I’ll call them up and see what I can do, okay? It’s important that you stay out of this part of the process in order to protect the integrity of your case.”

“Got it,” you said with a nod, regardless of the fact that she couldn’t see it. “Just don’t pressure them or anything. This isn’t something they have to get more involved in if they don’t want to. Is there anything else I need to do?”

“Keep resting. Get better. I’ll take this from here and let you know what happens.”

Your stomach churned. You still needed to come clean about your actual violation. You sighed. This is just as good a time as any, you reasoned.

“Gila, there’s something else we need to talk about. A separate manner from this, but not by far.”

She was silent for a moment.

“I don’t like the sound of your voice. What is it?”

You gulped down the lump in your throat. Dizziness filled your mind as anxiety coiled around your gut and squeezed.

“I need to report myself for inappropriate conduct.”

“Wait- what do you mean?”

You wanted to cry. It was possible that Gila might just fire you here, like this, over the comm. The tears were pushing against the backs of your eyes. You squeezed them shut in an attempt to keep them back.

“Something did happen between me and Din. But not at Open House, and not on school property.”

You gave her the details of what had occurred after Grogu’s birthday party. Tucking Grogu in, talking with Din, and, of course, the keldabe kiss.

“Does that even count though?” Gila asked once you finished.

“I think it does, it’s just as much of an intimate gesture as a regular kiss is in Mandalorian culture.”

Gila sighed.

“Y’all were so close…” she muttered. You didn’t fully understand what she meant, but didn’t press it.

“Okay. We’ll handle that after this first report. I’ll do what I can for you, hon, but I can’t make any promises.”

“And I don’t expect you to. Please don’t lose your job by not doing this properly. I can face it, whatever it is.”

You tried to believe that even while your entire body shook. As long as Gila buys it, you thought, you could get yourself to buy it eventually.

“Atta girl. It’ll be fine. You’ll definitely be getting big points for bringing it up on your own. But don’t worry about any of this right now, okay? I’ve got your statements, I’ll do the rest. You get better.”

You mentally groaned as your stomach flip-flopped and your head weighed itself down with vile thoughts once more.

“I’ll try.”

~~~~

“Arts and crafts time, kids.”

The substitute teacher, Mr. Duma, led the students to their desks and they all proceeded to doodle with their chosen art utensil. Grogu sat next to Li and across from Chia and Jack, the four of them sharing a bucket of various markers and colored pencils.

“I hope Miss comes back soon,” Jack said while scribbling with an orange marker.

“Me, too,” Li agreed, “Mr. Duma is nice but I want Miss to come back.”

Grogu nodded along. His heart grew heavy at the thought of you; they’d been without you for four days now, not including the weekend, and he missed you beyond belief. Mr. Duma still did the after-school goodbye routine, but it wasn’t the same without you. He only ever offered a handshake.

Grogu picked up a grey pencil and colored in the image of his dad’s helmet. You were drawn next to him, with Grogu standing between you both. All three of you were smiling — as much as Din could through the helmet — while the sky rained big blue drops around you.

“She’ll be okay,” he said quietly, “and she’ll come back.”

After arts and crafts time was done Grogu slipped away towards your desk. But he hesitated. If Mr. Duma saw this drawing first, he might take it away. Or someone else might get to it before you could see it. He headed over to his designated hook by the door and put the drawing into his backpack instead.

‘I’ll give it to her when she gets back,’ he thought to himself.

Next was recess. Mr. Duma led the students out to the play area, where they immediately ran to their activity of choice. Grogu joined Chia, Li, and Jack for a game of catch.

The four of them stood in a square formation and tossed a large ball around, giggling when someone dropped it or accidentally got knocked over. It was a welcomed distraction from the sadness of missing you.

When the school day was done, Grogu didn’t make an attempt to be the last one in line. He gave Mr. Duma a quick handshake before running off to his father, who scooped him up and carried him over to the speeder bike.

“How was school, kid?”

“Fine,” Grogu said.

“You’ve been a bit quiet this week,” Din said with a small chuckle. “Is it really that boring?”

“Kinda. It’s not as much fun without Miss.”

Din let out a small ‘huh’ and settled Grogu into the booster seat behind him.

“I miss her a lot. We all do.”

Din sighed and patted his head.

“I know. I-... I do, too.”

Grogu looked up at his dad, who looked down for a moment before looking back at him.

“But she’s going to get better and come back soon.”

“Yeah. She has the Mudhorn now, she has to get better.” Grogu said with a nod. Din chuckled.

“That’s right, pal.”

Din gave Grogu a pat before sitting in front of him and revving up the bike, carefully looking around for pedestrians before pulling out of the parking lot and driving off.

Grogu took in the familiar sensation of wind against his face. He giggled as it made his ears flutter about.

When Din stopped at a stoplight, he turned his head to the side.

“Hey, how about a little treat before we go home?”

“YES!” Grogu cried, jumping for joy in his seat. Din laughed and took a different turn.

The two of them drove up to Grogu’s favorite restaurant. After acquiring some nuggets and fries — with the essential free toy — the duo set off for home once more. Din parked the bike and helped Grogu down from his booster seat before grabbing his school bag. Grogu clung to the paper bag with his treats inside, brow scrunched in thought.

“Papa, how come I couldn’t go see her when you did?”

Din froze for a moment before sighing. He could give Grogu all the nuggets in the world, but it’d never be enough to make him forget the sadness of your absence. He knelt down to Grogu’s level.

“I wanted to take you with me. But we didn’t know what she was sick with, and we couldn’t risk you catching it.”

Grogu looked down. After a silent moment, his little brow scrunched together.

“But what about you? You didn’t get sick.”

“I have this,” Din tapped the cheek of his helmet with a finger. “Helps keep Papa from getting sick.”

“Oh,” Grogu looked down again.

“Hey- you’ll see her soon, Grogu. I know it.”

Din reached down to pat Grogu’s head, which made him look back up.

“Miss will get better and be back at school by Monday.”

Grogu stared, a sense of uncertainty clouding his gaze.

“I promise.”

Din didn’t take those words lightly anymore. Not since meeting you. He had honest faith that you’d get better, and that Grogu would be seeing you come Monday morning. It seemed to work; Grogu nodded with a little smile after a moment and lifted his arms in the air. Din picked him up and carried him into the house.

~~~~

When Saturday rolled around, you were still a bit weak. Just as you’d flushed out most of your prior sickness, new stresses settled in far too quickly and took over your thoughts ever since your talk with Gila. You were still recovering, both physically and mentally.

Today Din would be coming by to check on you. And you’d have to have a conversation that would surely bring you both pain. It was the last thing you wanted.

You counted down the hours until that afternoon, almost as if you were anticipating an execution. You tried to distract yourself and keep busy, even through your limited capacity. But most of what you could do reminded you of Din: watching sitcoms, reading the kids’ card, eating Din’s soup, sitting on the sofa with an empty space where Din would be sitting if he were there. Where he’ll probably be sitting while you have this shitty conversation.

One solid thing you were able to get done was a little note for Grogu. Seeing his beautiful message in the card touched your heart, and you wanted to thank him. You’d written a pinky promise to see him soon, and that until then you’d be thinking of him and using the Mudhorn he gave you to get better as fast as possible.

A few hours later, a knock sounded at your door. You sighed and made your way to it. Aside from the other things that would come with this visit, you had a feeling he also wasn’t going to be happy to see your slow recovery. You took a deep breath before opening the door and taking in the familiar sight of his broad figure filling up the entire door frame.

“Hey,” you breathed as you invited him inside.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, already tapping his helmet. “You look a little better, but still don’t seem okay.”

His tone was so sad. Guilt crept to your heart, as if you’d let him down by not being better yet.

“Yeah, some new things happened for me to stress about.”

He nodded.

“Gila called us.”

“Good,” you said with a nod. You were grateful to be seeing him after he found out about the report, rather than being the one to tell him. Gila had told you to stay out of it, after all.

“We all backed you up. That report was ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” you said while letting out a breath of relief. “You didn’t have to do that, I’m sorry everyone had to be so involved.”

“Don’t be,” he gave a dismissive wave, “you didn’t do anything wrong. And we wanted to support you.”

You smiled.

“She also mentioned what happened at Grogu’s party. I wish there was more I could’ve done for you there.”

“Oh please, don’t worry about that,” you waved a dismissive hand.

After a moment you invited him to take a seat on the couch.

“I think we should have that talk now,” you said while settling down beside him. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, I think it’s a good idea. I don’t want you having any more stress like this.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in his image. Warm, comforting, familiar. A complete 180 from just a few months ago, when he was a stoic, stern stranger. Your gaze moved down to the gloved hands in his lap. You took a deep breath.

“There’s still about a month left in the school year-” you gulped. The words felt like poison dripping from your lips, sucking out your life force with each one you had to say.

“-and I think it’d be best if we-”

You sighed and squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn’t bear to complete the sentence.

“... didn’t see each other.”

Your eyes snapped up to Din’s visor. You tilted your head at him, to which he shrugged.

“I had a feeling that’s what we’d have to do.”

Your chest deflated with a huff.

“I don’t want to do it,” you said, “but I think it’s the only way to make this work. We can’t risk jeopardizing either of the reports Gila’s working on, and we can’t be giving anyone any more reason to file more.”

“You’re right.”

You stared at him in silence. This should’ve made it easier. But him already understanding and agreeing that this was best only made it more painful. Your mind wandered to what the next few weeks might look like: only getting to wave at him from afar after a school day. Not being able to share a random conversation or go for a spontaneous jetpack flight. Not being able to hold his hand and watch Parks and Rec.

Just as you’d gotten yourself to open up your heart to him, you had to shut it again. Your chest grew heavy.

“Miss,” Din scooched closer to you and placed a hand on your knee. “I don’t want to be apart from you, either. But it won’t be forever.”

You stared at that black ‘T’ that you’d grown to adore, longing more than ever to see the eyes hiding behind it. He was right. In the grand scheme of things, it was only for a little bit. But with the way time was moving lately, you had a sense that it would seem like the opposite.

“Besides, when it’s done, we won’t need to worry at all anymore.”

His other hand pushed your hair behind your ear. You sucked in a breath through your nose as you took in his touch while you could. It lingered there, as if he were also absorbing you while he had the chance.

Your heart skipped a beat. Not having to worry anymore sounded like an unreachable fever dream. Not having to look over your shoulder to see who could be watching, not having to watch yourself, or keep yourself from expressing all the wonderful ways Din made you feel. Being able to spend more time with him and his beautiful boy, and their wonderful family. Your mind briefly wandered to the shenanigans you all shared at Open House, and again at Grogu’s party.

That could be your every day. That happiness could become a regular part of your routine. The pillars that built up your life could merge with his. You took a deep breath.

If you could make it through this next month… there’d be nothing in your way anymore.

“So,” you said as you cleared your throat, “in that case, I think it’s best if you schedule your transition appointment during a school day sometime soon. Kos, one of our admins, is covering for me until I get back and is also taking on appointments while we teach the kids. They’ll take good care of you and tell you everything you need to know about Grogu’s next teacher, and what to expect for the next school year.”

Din stared in silence for a moment before he nodded.

“Okay.”

A little whisper of a word. His thumb grazed your jawline in a delicate motion, as if you’d fall apart under any extra pressure. And maybe you would have; a sudden pain began plunging through your heart.

“I trust you. I’ll do that.”

It was only a few weeks, but were you strong enough for this? Were you strong enough to look at this man without reaching for him? Without being able to feel his touch, or give him yours? Without being able to embrace the sensation of your heart erupting with glee at the very notion of him?

Without telling him all the things you so desperately needed him to know?

Holding back was never something you thought you’d have trouble doing. You never had in the past, after all. Yet here you were. Aching for release, and your sentence hadn’t even begun.

“It’ll be hard,” you breathed, “it’ll be so hard, Din.”

“I know.” he paused and squeezed your knee. “But it’ll be okay. I promise you.”

You sighed, putting your hand over his and giving it a squeeze. You nodded.

“You’re right.”

It was already impossible. Impossible to sit there and stare, with Din just a few breaths away, and not lean into him. Not press your forehead to his. Not collapse into his arms. Your heart refused to settle down, no matter how deeply you breathed. To try and ease the restless needs, you scooched closer to him, pulling his hand higher up to cover your thigh with its warmth. His other hand moved up and down your back in a soothing motion.

You wanted to return the gesture. This couldn’t be easy for him, either. You looked him up and down to decide which armorless area would be best to focus on without fully throwing away the promise you two had just made.

You settled for his shoulder blade, placing your free hand on the space above his pauldron and squeezing, running your thumb up and down the fabric of his flight suit. His movements stilled for a moment. You looked into his visor with a small smile.

“I know it’s only for a bit, but…” you bit your lip, a sudden sense of hesitation almost halting the rest of your words. Did you have the right to say them? The two of you hadn’t technically established anything between you. Nothing tangible strung you together.

And yet there was no doubt in your mind that you were fully tethered to him. No matter what you might try to tell yourself. You took another breath and squeezed his shoulder again.

“... I’ll miss you.”

Din squeezed your leg. Hard. For just a second before easing off once more. His chest rose and fell with deeper breaths.

“I-”

He sighed. The hand on your back slipped around your waist and pulled you a bit closer, visor unmoving from your eyes.

“... I’ll miss you, too.”

You wanted to cry when his voice cracked.

The two of you sat there together for a few more drawn out moments, hands and eyes absorbing as much as they possibly could to tide you over during the upcoming month of drought.

With a final squeeze of your side, Din retracted his hand with a breathy ‘okay.’

“I suppose I should go, then.”

You bit your lip hard to stomp down your heart’s protest while nodding your head. If he stayed any longer, there’d be no controlling yourself.

He patted your thigh one last time before rising from the couch. You joined him and walked towards the door a few paces behind him, until he suddenly turned back around.

“Promise me, though.” he motioned his hand towards you, helmet tilted at a dangerous angle. “Promise me. That if you need me for anything during this time, you'll call.”

You stared at him, gulping down the sudden lump in your throat.

“I don’t care about the reports, I don’t care about any of that stuff. If you need me, nothing else matters. I want to be there for you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You’d never heard such a stern tone from him before. It was almost frightening. It was such a drastic shift from the gentle, soft man who was just holding you on the couch. He sounded frantic.

“If you get sick like this again, or something else happens, I can’t bear to-” he cut himself off and looked away from you with a deep sigh, gloved hands dropping down with a huff. He didn’t continue right away; instead he stared off, fingers flexing in and out of fists. You stayed still and waited for him to continue.

“Please. Just promise me you’ll call.”

Would you actually be able to keep such a promise? For the first time in years, you weren’t sure you could. Under any other circumstances, you’d have no problem giving him that assurance. But these weren’t normal times.

What would you do if you did find yourself in such a situation? Risk losing your job again, before even knowing if you’d still have one by the time the year ended? Risk Din and Grogu’s wellbeing by possibly pulling more unwanted attention towards them? Putting more burdens than you already had thus far onto those you cared for? Your breaths came shorter as your mind swam with horrid possibilities.

You were frozen, your throat suddenly bone-dry. What were you supposed to say to that? Your eyes darted around his figure as you tried to piece your thoughts together.

“Wait- no.”

You looked back up at Din, who was waving his hands in front of himself.

“I’m sorry. I know what that word means to you. You’d be loyal to it. And forcing you to give me that would be… extremely selfish. You have more to lose from keeping that promise than I do.”

He took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry.”

Just as mysteriously as the tension arrived, it dissolved. You cracked a small smile. When was the last time someone had put this much consideration into their words for you?

“You know, if that’s your definition of selfish, then we’ve both been guilty of that.”

Din turned to you, head tilted in a silent question. You let out a little laugh.

“I feel like every interaction I’ve had with you has been selfish. Wanting things I shouldn’t be wanting, but going after them anyway.”

You took a step closer.

“Isn’t that why we’re here? Because we both decided to be a little selfish?”

Din huffed.

“I suppose so.”

Your smile grew. “Thank you. For caring so much. It really does mean a lot.”

His turn to step closer to you. The gentle weight of his hand landed on your shoulder.

“You’ll be okay.”

It sounded like he was convincing himself more than addressing you; you nodded with confidence.

“I will be. And every time you see me at school when you come to get Grogu, you’ll have less reason to worry.”

He nodded again. After an extended moment of breathing in his space, taking in that now comforting scent of cologne while you could, he stepped away and the two of you made your way to the door once more.

“Wait!” you called, a light bulb going off in your head. You turned to your side table and retrieved the small folded paper you’d prepared.

“That reminded me, can you give this to Grogu?” you held the paper out to Din. “I just… wanted him to know I’m thinking about him.”

Din nodded and placed the paper in his pocket.

“He’ll love hearing that. He… misses you a lot.”

“I miss him too,” you said with a smile. The image of his grinning face entered your mind, just before the image of Din speeding off replaced it.

“Be safe getting home.”

“I will be.”

His hand hesitated on top of the knob. He turned to you again, visor peering into your face. The fingers on his free hand flexed about.

“Take care, Miss.”

The somber tone of his voice shattered something inside you. You squeezed every muscle in your body to keep the tears at bay. Din turned the knob and made his way out the door. You stood at the frame and watched, regretting not reaching out to him or giving his hand an extra squeeze when you had the chance.

He sat still on his speeder bike for a second before looking your way. You couldn’t even attempt a smile, instead biting your lip to keep from crumbling right there. You wrapped your arms around yourself and squeezed.

His sight didn’t leave you as he revved up the bike, movements slow and reluctant. In contrast, he gave you a nod that was certain, solid, confident. As if he were telling you that you’d both make it through this. That got you to smile a bit while you returned the gesture.

Watching him drive away wretched at your heartstrings. Once he was out of sight you shut the door and sighed.

So it begins.

~~~~

Every muscle in Din’s body protested as he got further and further from your house. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, so much he wanted to do for you, but it wasn’t the right time. As much as he tried reasoning with himself, his heart lurched with the weight of words unspoken.

Something inside him had come unhinged when you admitted you’d miss him. It was the closest he’d gotten to hearing you evoke any potential feelings for him, and he wasn’t prepared for it. He wasn’t sure if it was better to know or not at this point. But either way, it was clear that those words would echo in his mind throughout the upcoming month without you, when he’d be missing you just as much.

At that moment the last thing he wanted to do was leave you. He was a protector, first and foremost. And as his mind raced with what could become of you or your health in the time between now and the last day of school, without being able to help you, he panicked.

He kicked himself for what that panic caused him to ask of you. Your promises, unlike those of most people, were true. He’s seen it firsthand, how far you go to keep your word. How much you do to make sure everyone involved is taken care of, even at your own expense. It would’ve been cruel of him to put you in that position for his sake. You had a career on the line — happiness, fulfillment, all the beautiful things he saw in you whenever the two of you would speak in your classroom, or when he saw you interact with your students.

Who was he to put you at risk of losing that? Again? There was no excuse for it.

The sight of the community garden pulled him from those thoughts, instead plunging him back to that night under the moons with you. Without thinking he pulled over and hopped off the bike.

Din walked around the empty garden, retracing the path you’d led him down back then. New fruits and vegetables were growing from their designated spaces, and the orange berry bush was blossoming tiny white flowers in preparation for a new batch.

He looked up at the sky. It was a clear day, a few clouds scattered among the sunshine. Images of flying through the night with you resurfaced, the memory of your giggles and squeals bringing a smile to his face. His mind continued to wander.

It was all so unexpected, the way you fit so perfectly into his heart. So many moments came together in his mind: playful banter during a check-in, adventures during the zoo trip, watching you beat a man unconscious in a diner, seeing you make Grogu smile in a way he’d never seen before, getting lost in your glowing eyes while you talked about something you loved, and so many more. With each one his heart soared to heights previously unheard of.

There was no denying how much you’d grown to mean to him.

He made his way down to the florals; some of them were wilting away while others were budding anew. He stopped to look at the mystery plant from afar, imagining you standing in front of it, gently nudging a bud with your fingers. Your face was clear as day in his mind; you were so content, so calmly curious. He couldn’t get enough of that expression.

Now that plant was blooming, violet flowers were sprouting near the top while shimmering pink ones began to bloom underneath them. The colors changed in hue as the eye moved down the bush, creating a gorgeous gradient. The whole plant stood taller than you, and just a bit shorter than him.

He stepped up to it and pressed a button on his helmet. No results from the scanner. He turned it off along with the thermal map, getting as close as possible to seeing the plant’s natural image through his helmet. Had you seen this yet, he wondered. They’re so beautiful.

And even though he still didn’t know what this plant really was, it reminded him of you. Late to begin blooming, but eventually sprouting the most beautiful flowers in the garden. Persistent in its efforts, mysterious in its transformation. Colorful and varied. Soft to the touch, with a strong, unwavering foundation.

A sight he never wanted to stop looking at.

He sighed and headed back to his speeder bike.

He couldn’t go home yet. Not like this.

****

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[goofyhoffy]

CHAPTER 2

Fanfiction : My First Kiss 'just a kiss'

Genre : best friend to enemies to lovers! Roommates au! Classmates au! Romcom.

Pairings : Taehyung × reader

Word limit : 2.06k

Warnings : fuckboi, bestie bad words, private talks, best friend sharing sex life, abusing, angst, misunderstanding, bullying, kissing, smut, fluff, explicit, student life, dirty talks, wet dreams, hitting on, making out, Dom,sub, yandere.

Summary : you shifted to a new city for your best friend Taehyung. He's your bestie since birth. You admitted to his school where you find life difficult. Taehyung being a fuckboi and you being is bestie he shares everything with you even his sex life and moves. But your character is far more different from him. You always looked for your comfort person. You dreamt of spending time with your future partners. Even you're in high school you haven't kissed anyone as you want to secure your first kiss for your special one. What happened when Taehyung seized the chance from you of your first romantic kiss!

Series: a drabble fanfiction of 3 sets.

Author note : this one is so emotional and romantic , so look forward to read it. I hope you'll love it. Finally, after reading give me your help full opinions. Love ya.

Chapter 1 ∆ CHAPTER 3

MASTERLIST

(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)(๑♡⌓♡๑)

You walks up to him and straight up slap him in his golden cheeks.

Slapping your bestie feels so bad, you felt the worst person in this planet. Your anger and frustration towards him still didn't left from your heart.

Taehyung getting slapped with your bare soft hands. He got thrilled. You slapped and left the venue. But eventually you feel someone grabbed your hand so hard. As you expected it's Tae. He was standing with his hand grabbing yours and the other hand holding his delicate cheeks you just slapped. You frowned.

"What was that?" Tae arrogantly asked.

"A slap to remember you that you're nothing but a stranger to me from now." You screamed.

"How dare you?" Tae squeezed your hands.

"How dare you to kiss me?" You eyed.

"Seriously, for a kiss you would slap your bestie" Tae sighed.

"It's My First Kiss" you emotionally acknowledged.

"It's just a kiss". Tae sighed.

"You were my best friend." Your voice broke.

"I still am. Still your best friend." Tae said.

"No, Tae. That's not how things happen. I told you hundreds of time that, I'm not like you. I can't makeout with anyone like you do. I have higher expectations and hope for my First Kiss. But you ruined it." You screamed.

"But you kissed me back." He too screamed.

"I don't, I don't know. It's just happened."

"See, you kissed me back but still reacting like a fucking slut. Don't be emotional virgin,____"

"Shut up, you fuckboy. See yourself. A fucking boy who can sleep with any and every girl across the door. I'm not like you, Taehyung. Maybe your dick fits for everyone but not for me. I never thought that you'll do something like this to me. I was your bestie." You bashed for him.

"What? Think before you speak,____" Tae sighed.

"Why will I? When you never even think about smashing your worst lips on mine? Huh." You said.

"I can't. You're the meanest. Actually your lips taste the worst. You don't even now how to kiss. Huh, how would you even know. You're a emotional Virgin. If I didn't kissed you, nobody in your entire life will do. You should thank me. Poor Virgin." Tae chuckled devilishly.

Hearing those cruel words from Tae. You just broken up. Those tears can't resist to drop themselves from your small pearl eyes. You never thought that your best friend can think that about you. Each and every word he speaks you remember word by word. The known loved face of Tae looked devilish to you now. He was not the same anymore. People change so do he. He turn to devil, who even can hurt their own people. You remember why you even here. It was all because of Tae who needed you. You were always there for your best friend. But he was never there. And he was the one who hurt you the most.

You can't let a word fall out of your mouth. Your neck was feeling pain out of caught your tears back. You don't want to face him anymore. Just want to go away from his gaze. His presence even stinks. He feels like a complete stranger to you. Out of anything you want was someone to tell you what is wrong and right. But your own friend was a traitor.

You still can't processed how things got runied between you. It was only second day of your staying with Tae, and you both already at the verge to broke up. The fight turns into a rival. You never have such a big issue or fight with him. Back in the old days, he always supported, loved and cared about you. But now at the school, he totally treat you like a new nerd girl who's hitting on him. So much things are going on your mind. The presence of your first kiss, the betrayal and the acting a stranger all from your own best friend.

"Huh! Don't fucking cry like a monster. Speak up, my toxic friend." Tae frowned.

His words makes your heart ache more and more. You can't stand to him. You wanted to slap him untill death. He was like a enemy to your eyes.

Without any response you shed off your tears, took a deep breath. Took your books from the library table and left the place.

Taehyung is deeply affected by your presence. He had never seen you like this. He somewhere immaturely annoyed by your response. The slap still leaves a mark on his cheeks. He deep down know that it's all his fault but his ego stops from accepting that. He only knew that you were overreacting and nothing. A kiss never can be compared with a slap. Best friend do this shitty things but the fight turns to Rival. Now, onwards he only know one thing she was his enemy and nothing.

You took your bagpacks from your classroom. And left the school. You stroll down the unknown street. The school, roads, place and your best friend seems stranger. You don't know where to go. For a second you thought of leaving your school from Seoul to go back to Daegu. But you promised Taehyung's mother that you would not leave him in the half way. You decide to stick to him but he wasn't your best friend anymore. But he was, no he still is. Might be you were little too much to response harshly. But he need to apologize to you first. And you were not gonna talk to him anymore.

Taehyung when came to classroom and can't find you anywhere, he got that you skipped the school. He was worried about you, after all you knew no one there. It was completely unknown place to you. But he know his way of finding where are you. He checked your snap location and at his surprise you were already home. He got relieved but still want to realise you that you were wrong to slap him.

You gone home as no other option was left. Did your homework and some self study. And missed your old Tae a bucket. Cried for hours over the same boy. But your strong will power helps you to organise yourself more. Took a fresh shower and done your hair and skin care.

Lying on the bed you were checking your social media. At your surprise you see something that broke your heart again. Tae posted a photo with his school friends and captioned it "far from the toxic friendship. Best day to get to know about real colour of people." You were so annoyed. You deep down know that he posted it for you. Tae intentionally posted to mock you. You were like does he thinks that you were toxic, he want to end friendship so he should tell you early. Such a asshole he was.

You know you have to call him, to tell him that he don't deserve you. That he was wrong to take away your first kiss. You called him and as expected he didn't received. You called him again, he received.

"You asshole." You screamed.

"What? What do you want now?" Tae arrogantly said.

"You fucking don't deserve a bestie like me. Your sarcasm is not a joke. You think you would mock me and I'll ignore it. Huh." You frowned.

"I see... So, how was my post. You like it. I love the caption so much. It's best to ignore toxic people like you." Tae devilishly grinned.

"Just fuck off with your poor fake gang Kim Taehyung. I even don't give a fuck. I hate you." You declined the call.

You screamed across the lungs that you can't with this boy.

°

Thinking all those think you drifted into sleep. You woke up to some weird noises coming from living room. And it's of screaming some girls. Felt weird that who was gonna scream like a monster at that time. That was barely late evening. As you were moving closer to living room the noises turns to moans. And as expected it was none other than your fake bestie Taehyung.

"What the heck? " You screamed.

"Oh my god. Who's she?" The girl screamed violently.

Taehyung turns to you and let out a deep sigh.

"_____, you're here again. Get off your ass. We're in a moment." Taehyung continued.

"Why in the living room? Don't you have two big bed rooms of your. Don't stain my yellow couches with your c-" you were cut off in the middle by the girl who covered herself with Tae's shirt.

"Shut up. Just go. Babe, we should go to your bed room."

"We can have sex anywhere and everywhere in this house. It's my fucking house,_____. Understood. Now, go." Taehyung rolled his eyes.

"I'm here too. As a roommate, I don't like this. Now go to your bedroom." You sighed.

"You are a bitch,_____. And you know that. You just ruined my mood." Tae frowned

"Babe we can start again, let's make your mood. So, where were we-" the girl said.

"You, please shut up. Take your clothes and fuck off." Taehyung sighed.

"But babe we ca-"

"Get out, slut." Taehyung directed the girl and she wear her clothes finally leaving you two alone.

A deep silence surround you both. None of you were starting a conversation. You were standing at the living room's door and he was sitting at the couch with his hand on the side chin. His dark brown eyes pierced yours. It was like he gonna kill you straight with his staring. You try to hide from his gaze but can not. He got up and grabbed your hands.

"What do you want?" His firm slow voice cut through your ears.

"Huh! I was ... Just asking to be at your bedroom." You stumble.

"Why you slapped me? Is kissing is an offense?"

"For me it is. You have totally changed."

He grabbed your hands and pinned you across the wall leaving enough space to breathe.

"Leave me. You're embrassed of me! Aren't you?" You sighed.

"Embrassed of you? Why?" Tae asked .

"You call me a little nerd in front of your friends. Why? You're treating me like you never knew me. I'm shocked to see such changes. I know I'm not cool like you nor I'm good looking like you. But still you would not talk and even humiliate your best friend in front your school friends. I'm your child hood friend, Taehyung. Mind it." You speak your heart out.

"Are you okay?" Taehyung speaks with his most delicate voice. He never believe that you have think to much just within a day. This was not what he was expecting.

"No, I'm not. I'm here for you but still you are ignoring me. Calling me slut, humiliating me and doing everything a best friend shouldn't do." Tears rolled down from your eyes. You can't anymore hold that back. Your eyes got puffy with tears. Your heart sink because of Tae.

Without any response Taehyung hugged you. Pressed you in his huge warm body. His hands patted your small head and back. But still you were crying.

"Stop crying. You misunderstood me. I'm sorry." Taehyung sighed.

"Please, let me explain you everything. I'm not ignoring you. It's just if I tell everyone that you're my bestie then they would see you as a person like me. I don't want you to be like me. I just wanted that you would make your own image as you wanted in your new school. I want you to be the best in the class and not like me who's always known for having girls around. I... I'm sorry." Taehyung explained.

You hugged him back and even cried more that his shirt got all drenched.

"No. Don't talk to me." You murmured.

"I'm apologizing. I really like you." Taehyung sighed.

A moment of silence between all those words make you stumble. You were still hugged by your best friend who just confronted his feelings to you.

[lsvdw-blog]

hey hey hey! This week we're doing something different:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Breeeeeeee 💖 Thank you for sending these and brightening up my week! You do so much for this fandom and I appreciate you 🥰💝

The setting: The Diagnostics Office. Set post chapter 15, (before things got complicated again and let's ignore the fact that they both technically aren't employed right now 😅) Serena may or may not have told Ethan that this was about the hospital and its intern competition to get him to agree.

It was too late for him to back out when they were sat down and mic'd up 😂 Ethan glares at her... she's gonna pay for this later if you know what I mean 😏

They try to keep this interview as professional as possible but they kinda fail

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What Serena says: "...I plead the fifth."

What Serena thinks: "Hot hot hot 🥵"

Ethan: "Oh look, yet another intern."

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Serena: "I'm not sure if this counts as a swear word, but he does take the Lord's name in vain quite often: Jesus Christ. If he doesn't say that, you'll know he's displeased by literally everything else he does. The eye roll, pinching the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening, the way—"

Ethan: "Are you done?"

Serena sticks her tongue out playfully at him and he can't help the tiny uptick of his lips at that.

Ethan: "Sh*t, among others, but this one the most. She has a dirty mouth."

Serena flips her hair over her shoulder casually at the innuendo and Ethan's eyes darken slightly. He clears his throat awkwardly.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Serena: "Blue. Hard to miss when he's looking at you like you're the dumbest thing on the planet."

Ethan rolls his eyes. "I have no clue. I have more important matters to attend to on a daily basis." (He's lying. He knows what color her eyes are b/c he stared into them as he f***ed her brains out for hours)

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Serena scoffs. "Only three?"

"Rookie," Ethan warns.

Serena sighs. "Fine. I guess it's a good thing you only want three, or else we'd be here all week. Surgeons, except for Dr. Emery, interns, except for yours truly, and The Board. I gave groups because Ethan dislikes most everyone."

"You're about to be put back on that list," he grumbles. "Serena is friends with everyone, so I can't say she dislikes anyone. Mm, there is one soon-to-be previous intern."

Serena shoots him a quizzical look and they have a silent conversation with their eyes. Bree awkwardly sits there.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Serena: "Whenever he starts to get tunnel-visioned in his focus on something, he always rolls his sleeves up to just below his elbows and this tiny little crease will appear between his brows as they furrow."

Ethan is taken aback that she's noticed this, but tries to hide it by clearing his throat. "If something amuses her, but it hasn't gotten her to fully laugh yet, she'll scrunch her nose."

Serena looks at him with wide eyes, shocked that he's observed this.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Serena: "Uhm..."

Ethan: "I don't think—"

They start at the same time and whip their heads to look at one another. They lock eyes and it seems like everything else disappears. "Okaaaay..." Bree says under her breath.

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever (done with "I have" & "I haven't" paddles):

come into work hungover

They both raise their "I have" paddles.

Serena barks out a laugh. "Are you sure you're not confusing yourself with someone else?"

Ethan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Interns," he grumbles.

had a fistfight

Ethan raises his "I have" paddle. "I used to be a bit of a... troublemaker."

Serena, on the outside: *Poker face*

Serena, internally: "Hot hot hot 🥵"

been kicked out of a bar

Serena raises her "I have" paddle.

Ethan: "Why am I not surprised?"

Serena: "Hey!"

Ethan: "I'm going to have to hear this story though."

Serena: "Maybe if you behave."

Ethan's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

gotten a tattoo

Serena raises her "I have" paddle and Ethan tries to hide his smirk b/c he's seen it as they f***ed.

broken someone’s heart

Serena raises her "I have not" paddle, while Ethan contemplates and regretfully raises his "I have" paddle. He looks guiltily at Serena from the corner of his eye.

been in love

Both raise their "I have not" paddles. They're both idiots b/c they've fallen in love with each other 🙄

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

"Professionally, literally wherever he wants to be. He's a genius - he could do whatever he wanted and is passionate about. I think maybe he'd step back a bit from the politics of a hospital and do more philanthropic work, with the WHO perhaps. Personally, I hope he's happy. Genuinely happy. However, and with whomever, he finds that.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

"What's not impressive about him? He's remarkably intelligent, cares so deeply, even if he has a hard exterior, and is so incredibly passionate about helping his patients, medicine as a whole, and bettering the entire field."

Last thing he texted you?

"The things you get me to agree to."

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Serena smiles. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

"She will be at the top of our field and at the top of her game. She's going to be one of the most highly sought after doctors in the world, there's no doubt in my mind. As for her personal life," he trails off and thinks for a second. "I hope she's happy. In every sense of the word."

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan blinks at Bree for a few beats. "On the record? Her intelligence, drive, compassion. Off the record? Add to those things her smile, her laugh, the way she carries herself with such confidence and grace, how she can charm just about anyone." Ethan doesn't notice, but he's smiling at this point.

Last thing she texted you?

"Please?? 🥺🥺"

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan, again, blinks at Bree for a few beats. "She would never do that. She's not the type... she's a bit old-fashioned that way. But, if she was feeling like pushing her comfort zone and beat me to it, I would agree. I do enjoy being in her company," he says, not realizing he'd said that last part out loud, with a gleam in his eyes.

[karlajoyner]

Edge of Great (Luke Patterson x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so this is my first imagine on tumblr. I know it’s pretty long but my fingers just kept typing.🙃 Definitely let me know if I should make shorter ones or longer ones or even a series! Also let me know if you guys have any requests or plots that I could write and for who! Finally finally let me know if you like it in a first reader POV or if i should try a third person POV! Oh and if I should post them in a book on wattpad or keep the content strictly on tumblr!!!😁 (Ps. I’ll most likely be adding a song to every chapter whether it goes with the chapter or not!) Check out my last post for more information on my writing.

Warnings: None

————

I sat in the studio along with my bandmates tuning my guitar. We were currently waiting on Julie to return from school so we could begin to practice for tonight. Her dad got us a gig playing for a couple of her friends to start a following. Which made a lot of sense when Julie explained it to me. Right after Luke sent me into a frenzie of confusion.

"Hey y/n/n you think you could help me with these lyrics for tonight?" Luke called from the couch. I stood up from my comfortable spot on the chair under the loft and flashed myself onto the spot right next to him.

"Sure Lukey" I said taking his writing journal in my own hands and sitting back to scan over the words.

Y/n- I believe, I believe that we're just one dream

I mumbled hearing Luke start to strum on his six string the melody of the song.

Away from who were mean to be that were standing on the edge of

Y/n, L- Something big something crazy our best days are yet unknown that this moment is ours to own

He joined in.

Y/n- Cause we're standing on the edge of great

L- (On the edge of great)

Y/n- Great

L- (On the edge of great)

Y/n- Great

L- (On the edge of great)

Y/n- Cause we're standing on the edge of

We sang to each other back and forth with smiles plastered on our faces.

Y/n, L- Shout shout. C'mon and let it out, out. C'mon and let it out, out. Don't gotta hide it. Let your colors blind their eyes. Be who you are no compromise. Just shout, shout. C'mon and let it out

We paused running out of lyrics. My mind racing searching for the next line.

Y/n- What doesn't kill you makes you feel alive

I sang softly as he leaned in closer with a smirk plastered on his face.

Y/n, L- Ooh-oh. I believe, I believe that we're just one dream. Away from who we're meant to be. That we're standing on the edge of great

We finished out of breath. My smile grew as Alex and Reggie began to clap.

"That was great"

"Yeah we’re gonna rock Julie's garage tonight" Reggie said making it sound less cool than it actually was.

"Definitely" Luke said standing up.

"Thanks for the help boss" He said sending me a smile.

"Anytime" I grinned before turning around to go take my previous seat to finish tuning my guitar.

"I'm gonna go find Julie and let her know we've got the song ready for tonight thanks to our amazing rhythm guitarist"

"Sounds like a plan" Alex said.

"Don't forget to mention how beautiful I am as well" I teased earning a smirk from Luke.

"I never do baby" He winked at me before disappearing. A small laugh escaped my lips before going back to my guitar.

"So" Alex said catching my attention.

"So?" I repeated looking up at the drummer boy.

"So you and Luke?"

"Me and Luke what?"

"You and Luke are like in love each other"

"We are not. Well I'm not. Can't say the same about pretty boy" I said teasingly.

"Yeah sure you're not. Reggie back me up here. Please tell your best friend that she's totally in love with Luke"

"You're totally in love Luke"

"I am not. Reggie your supposed to have my back"

"And I will. Once you admit you have a thing for Luke" He said smirking at me. I glared at the two boys in front of me who weren't as oblivious as I had thought they were.

"Okay so I have a thing for Luke. So what?"

"So you should tell him"

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"So he can admit he's in love with you too"

"And why would he do that when he's clearly not"

"Seriously? Didn't you see the way he was looking at you when you were singing? It looked like Reggie when he sees pizza"

"Pizza?" Reggie perked up excitedly. "There no pizza" Alex said a frown appearing on the bassist face.

"Just because looks at me a certain way does not mean he loves me"

"Really because last time I checked constantly touching each other means you like each other, constantly flirting means you like each other, and when was the last time you wore one of your own shirts" Alex said pointing at my outfit. I sunk back into my seat. He was right about everything down to one of the many shirts Luke had let me have.

"Come on y/n just admit it after we died something more changed with you two. We all see it. Even Reggie sees it and that's saying something"

"Yeah. So it's not like he's ever gonna say anything. So why should I put myself out there to possibly get rejected and heartbroken by my best friend? I mean how do we even know for sure if he's in love with me. Or even likes me for that matter?"

"We don't. Yet" Alex said smirking.

"Oh that's his thinking face. I haven't seen that since 94" Reggie said backing up slightly.

"I think we're in trouble"

It had been a couple hours after Julie had gotten out of school. Yet her or Luke were nowhere to be found. I groaned walking out of the bathroom in the back of the studio.

"Seriously Alex. This is your great idea"

"No my great idea is to have you and Reggie flirt like there's no tomorrow. This is just small details" He said fixing the fit of the flannel on my body. It was Reggie's lucky flannel that took a lot of convincing to get off his body.

"Okay but why'd I have to change my shirt" I said looking down at my own crop top that I hadn't worn in a very long time.

"Because it was Luke's. We need him to think that you don't need his clothes anymore"

"Why did I let you drag me into this?"

"Because deep down you want him to say something about it don't you?"

"Well yeah but-"

"Hey guys!" A familiar voice popped into the garage.

"Luke" I spoke pushing Alex away from me.

"Hey man what happened to practice?" Alex asked casually.

"Julie had some stuff to do after school so I went along. But she's on her way so we should get a few runs in-" His words slowly came to a halt sending me a strange look.

"Isn't that Reggies lucky flannel?"

"Uh yeah. He let me barrow it. For good luck. Here's your shirt back by the way. I don't think I'll need it anymore" I said trying to hand him back the shirt I was wearing previously.

"You know you don't have to give it back. It's yours" His lips simpered.

"I know but Reggie said if I needed to I could just barrow his"

"Oh" was all Luke before taking the shirt out of my hands.

Suddenly the garage door opened and in walked Julie.

"Hey guys" She smiled.

"Ready for tonight?"

"Definitely"

"Flynn's coming over before to help me get ready. Girl time?" Julie asked looking at me.

"I'll be there" I smiled.

"So are we ready to rehearse?"

"Where's Reggie?"

"He went out said he would be back in a bit"

As if on cue the other ghost popped in with a smile on his face.

"Luke" He said his eyes going wide.

"Your back"

"Yeah I am. Who are the flowers for?" Luke asked eyeing the bouquet of roses in his hand.

"They’re for y/n. You know she deserves the best" Reggie said nervously sticking his hand out for me.

"Thanks Reggie" I smiled lightly.

"She also deserves her favorite flowers. Sunflowers in case you were wondering"

"Luke" I scolded him taking the bouquet.

"I think it's a sweet gesture Reggie. Seriously thank you"

"Your welcome" He smiled pulling me into a light hug.

"I think we should rehearse before it gets any later" Alex suggested trying to ease the now very notable tension in the room.

"Sounds good" Julie said awkwardly stepping past Reggie and Luke who were standing a few feet apart. I looked at Alex who gave me a small nod.

"Uh Reggie can you come here for a sec I need your help" I said pulling him away to my guitar stand. I placed strap around my body waiting for the brunette to turn his attention to me.

"Uh sure. Cutie?" He spoke in a questionable tone before looking down at me.

"You need his help with guitar?" Luke asked clearly confused.

"Well yeah"

"But I always help you with guitar" "He offered earlier if I needed help to come to him"

"Yeah. I did that" Reggie said trying to act tough.

"Whatever" Luke scoffed.

I watched as he swung his guitar around his shoulder aggressively. I glanced at Julie who was sending me a confused look so I quickly shrugged my shoulder not knowing what else to do.

It was mere minutes before we were heading out to perform. The tension in the air was now overpowered by excitement.

"I'm so nervous" I said bouncing my leg up and down anxiously.

Suddenly I felt a hand land on it stopping my movements. I looked up to see Luke smiling down at me.

"Don't be nervous your gonna do amazing out there"

"Thanks" I smiled back.

"Yeah. Your always amazing. Did I mention you look beautiful tonight? Wearing my flannel. My lucky flannel" Reggie said with a pestering smile as he swung an arm around my shoulder.

"We get it. It's your flannel" Luke interrupted immediately removing his hand from my leg. I looked at Alex who was stifling a laugh.

"Uh thanks Reg. You look good too"

"Oh I know. And I'm gonna look better singing up there with you. It'll be like old times. You and me. And a microphone"

"You and me. And a microphone" Luke mimicked him. I almost laughed only to be startled by someone walking in.

"Hey guys are you ready?"

"Ready as we'll ever be" I spoke. Julie simply nodded her head walking out.

I stood up pacing around as I heard Julie begin the opening notes on the piano outside.

"Hey your gonna do great out there" Luke said stopping me from walking anymore.

"Thanks. You are too. You and Julie have great chemistry"

"Well yeah. But I think we have great chemistry too" He said taking my hands in his.

I finally looked into his eyes see him staring into mine in. A small smile forming on my face.

"Guys!" Alex called knocking us out of our trance. I panicked immediately flashing outside with Luke. Landing beside Reggie with my guitar at hand. Luke only a few feet away in his own place.

J- I believe

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of

Y/n- Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

I joined in singing into Reggies microphone beaming with excitement. I scanned the crowd seeing smiles on people faces. This is all we ever wanted.

J- Cause we're standing on the edge of great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- Great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- Great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- 'Cause we're standing on the edge of great

L- We all make mistakes

But they're just stepping stones

To take us where we wanna go

It's never straight, no

Luke sang sending me a wink before continuing to sing with Julie.

L,J- Sometimes we gotta lean

Lean on someone else

To get a little help

I giggled as Reggie leaned on me. Back to back. Both of us playing our guitars to the same beat.

J- Until we find our way

I believe

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of

Y/n- Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

J- Cause we're standing on the edge of great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- Great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- Great

All- (On the edge of great)

J- 'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

J- Shout, shout

C'mon and let it out, out

Don't gotta hide it

Let your colors blind their eyes

Be who you are no compromise

My heart rate picked up. The scene from earlier replaying in my head as Julie sang the next lines. Taking a chance I looked in Luke's direction to see him already looking at me with a grin on his face. I smirked walking over to the piano.

J- And Just shout, shout

C'mon and let it out, out

J, Y/n- What doesn't kill you makes you feel alive

Ooh-oh

J- I believe

Julie sang as Luke and I let off a similar guitar riff making me laugh.

I believe that we're just one dream

Away from who we're meant to be

That we're standing on the edge of great

Making my way over to Luke I let out a giggle as I pulled his beanie down slightly messing up his look. Before making my over back to Reggie. I looked back at the brunette to see him grinning from ear to ear.

All- Something big, something crazy

Our best days are yet unknown

That this moment is ours to own

Cause we're standing on the edge of great

(On the edge of great)

J- On the edge of great

All- (Great, on the edge of great) On the edge

All- (Great, on the edge of great)

J- 'Cause we're standing on the edge of...

L- Running from the past

Y/n- Tripping on the now

J- What is lost can be found

It's obvious

Luke, Julie, and I finished singing towards the audience.

Making eye contact with a few kids before flashing out myself back into the garage where Alex and Reggie were already waiting. Adrenaline coursing through our veins as another presence poofed into the room.

"That was amazing!" Luke shouted excitedly.

"I can't believe we just did that. Did you see how pumped they were?" I asked falling back onto the couch besides Reggie.

"Yeah. They loved us!" "Remind me to thank Julie for playing our CD later"

"Tonight it's her garage tomorrow it's- it's clubs, dances, and worldwide tours" Luke said eagerly. Taking the free spot to my left.

"God I wish we could feel like this all the time" I said leaning into Luke.

"Me too y/n/n" He said placing an arm around me. A sudden fake cough erupting from Alex's lips. I looked over to see him staring at me with a look.

"Oh uh- Reggie you were great out there" I complimented the boy sitting up.

"Thanks. You uh- you looked hot" He tried to sound cool but failed miserably.

"You think?"

"Oh yeah- I mean the sweat on your forehead and like the heat and-"

"What are you going on about?" Luke asked confusion plastering itself on his face.

"I think what he means is y/n is attractive. Right Reggie?" Alex asked.

"No, no don't answer for him. Reggie be straight with me do you like y/n or not?" Luke asked standing up.

"Why does it matter if I do or don't?" Reggie questioned standing up as well.

"Because you out of everyone know that I like her so why are you letting her wear your clothes, buying her flowers, and calling her hot. I thought I made it clear she was off limits" Luke said my mouth widening in shock.

"I'm off limits?" I asked looking at him.

"How many people did you make it clear to that I was off limits?" I asked not really wanting an answer I was expecting.

"A few"

"A few? Micheal Brookes?" I asked remembering a guy I began to talk to at the beginning of our senior year who randomly stopped talking to me one day. I watched as his head dipped in a short nod.

"Jacob Miller?" I continued watching his nod once again.

"Grant Dean?" Nod.

"Nick Harper?" Nod.

"Derek Johnson?" Nod.

"Seriously Luke? Your the reason I never had a boyfriend my senior year. To make it worse I died a virgin. You asshole" I shouted standing up. I was fuming at this point. He had no right. And he still did it. My head whipped towards the garage door heading it creak open.

"Hey guys" Julie and Flynn smiled walking it.

"You guys did great out there" Flynn said happily. Julie immediately noticing the tension in the room and the frown upon my lips.

"Are you okay y/n?"

"I don't know why don't you ask Luke?" I spoke before flashing out.

I landed in the only place I could think of. A single tear escaped my eye as I sat on the marquee of the Orpheum. Our dream. His dream. I stared out onto the lit up street of Sunset Boulevard. If he didn't want me seeing anyone he could've said something. For the longest time I wondered why guys were such assholes. It wasn't them. It was Luke. It was always Luke.

"I know your mad" I heard his voice speak from behind me.

"I think I'm beyond mad Luke. How could you?" I asked standing up and turning towards him.

"I came crying to you all those times wondering why guys didn't want me. And-and you made me think that it was all me when it was really you. Telling them to back off. Why? Why would you do this to me?"

"Because-" He was at a loss for words. Looking like a kicked puppy.

"I-I wanted you" He finally spoke up.

"You what?"

"I wanted you" He spoke more confidently.

"I wanted you to myself. I- I every time you came and told me you were talking to someone new it hurt because I know it should've been me who asked you out. Who got the courage to just tell you that I-" He went silent the anger in me evaporating in a matter of seconds.

"That you what?" I asked quietly.

"That I love you. I know I'm late but I can't hold it in anymore. After seeing you and Reggie today I got jealous just like I used to back in high school. I know this'll probably ruin our friendship but I don't want to lose you so I really need you to say something right now before I go insane not hearing your beautiful voice" He finished off finally looking at me. The look in his eyes was as hurt. And I wanted to be mad. But I couldn't be. Not when he just admitted what I had been wanting to hear for so long.

"Your 25 years late. But I think we have an eternity to make up for that" I said his eyebrows flying up in surprise.

"Really?"

"You really think I wanted to wear my own shirt today Patterson? Alex told me that if I kept wearing your clothes I'd only fall deeper in love you" I spoke a smile reaching both our face.

He quickly made his way towards me. Leaning forward until his lips attached themselves onto mine. I giggled as he lifted me in his arms holding me close. Our lips molding perfectly like they were made for each other.

"This isn't real" He whispered putting me down.

"Your mine. God your mine" He mumbled pressing open mouth kisses down my neck before connecting his lips back to mine.

"It's definitely real Lukey"

"I love it when you call me that" He mumbled into my lips.

"Don't get all soft on me now Patterson" I laughed pulling away.

"I'm sorry for what I did before I really am. For making you upset and I'm gonna spend an eternity making it up to you"

"It's okay Luke. It's in the past now. I just would've preferred if you would've not scared away every guy that tried to talk to me"

"I promise I'll never hurt you like that again" He said holding me close by the waist. As I began to suck on his neck to begin leaving a hickey.

"And I promise you won't be a virgin for much longer" He whispered reattaching our lips again.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Summary: At the Seventy-Fourth Reaping for The Hunger Games, volunteering is outlawed, thanks to a tribute four years prior. Because of this, when Katniss’ sister Prim’s name is chosen from the bowl, there’s nothing she can do but hope that Peeta Mellark, past victor and now Prim’s mentor, can somehow bring her sister home alive. (Obviously heavy on Everlark.) 

AN: Hi! I don’t really have a big author’s note or anything--at least, I don’t think I do? We’ll see how long this trails on--but this is one of the fics I’ve been working on for a while. It’s multi-chaptered so there’s gonna be a lot more coming in the future, but this first chapter is honestly a little similar to the original book, with some (significant) deviations here and there, but after this first chapter, this story becomes extremely different from canon. I gotta thank, obviously, @rosegardeninwinter​ for a). making me my pretty lil banner and for b). reading the million, unpolished, unedited screenshots of my drafts that I’m sure ya’ll got tired of really quick. And also for encouraging me to write this in the first place. And also, I gotta thank everyone who liked and reblogged the lil story edit I posted months ago for this concept. It really encouraged me to write this concept out. (I’m talking about this edit right here if you forgot or never saw x). Okay, anyways, I’m talking too much but thank you!��Also link to this story on AO3 [x].

Chapter One :

I stare out into the sky, introspective, as I wait for familiar footsteps to approach. The footfalls of my hunting partner, my friend even, Gale, still remain absent, despite our longstanding agreement to hunt on Reaping Day, no matter how hot it is, or how scarce the game, or how worried we may be deep inside.

Of course, how could a couple kids from the Seam not worry about Reaping Day? At least a slight bit, deep down?

Reaping Day. The day that decides the almost absolute fate of a lucky—as our assigned escort, straight from the Capitol itself, so proudly proclaims—boy and girl.

We're District Twelve. The smallest and one of the poorest districts in the country of Panem. There's an almost guarantee that whoever gets their name picked from the reaping bowl, even the strongest eighteen-year-old boy in the district, will have an almost sure fate of death. Likely before the number of tributes drops below twenty.

Tributes from our district almost never fare well inside the arena.

Almost never.

We have had a few winners in history, two of which are still around, but a few out of seventy-three games isn't inspiring much hope in anyone today.

The wind breezes against my arms, prickling the hair at the back of my neck, and I'm struck by the memory of being out here, in the forbidden territory of the woods, outside our district limits, when I was just a kid. When my dad was the one hunting and I was just along for the ride. Just along because I wanted to be with him. When I used to blindly trust him and my mother, when I thought he'd live forever, when I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the Hunger Games. When I was too young to truly grasp the concept of the world in which we live.

When I was eleven my every illusion was shattered violently. Almost as violently as the death in which my father must have endured, underground in those mines, as they exploded.

I remember hearing the alarm at school, blaring so cacophonously over the speakers that it shook the schoolrooms themselves. I remember blindly grappling through the scurrying bodies of my classmates, until I found my way to my little sister, Primrose. Her room was completely empty, but she still remained, sitting behind her desk with small folded hands, waiting for my arrival with excessive patience.

I'd always coached her on what we'd do, if there ever should be a mine accident. I made sure she knew the drill, just as I knew it. Like the back of my hand. Like a prayer or a lullaby. I could recite it in my sleep. Because my father had just as sternly instilled it into me.

I wove my way through the chaos of bodies and white-hot panic, towing Prim only inches behind me by the hand, as the kids from town lingered in the hallways, their classic, bright blue eyes large and their voices all quivering, and as the kids from the Seam dutifully made their way to the nearest exits, hoping and praying and begging silently that it wasn't their parent who had been hurt. Hoping the accident hadn't taken what was typically the sole provider in most households, here in the poorest section, in the most impoverished district.

Prim and I must have not hoped hard enough, because we learned almost immediately upon finding our mother, who was now immobilized with grief, her characteristic gentle smile eviscerated and in it's place, a blank stare, void of any life at all, that our every fear from hearing that alarm were coming true.

My mom was supposed to get a job. She was supposed to find a way to provide for us, to take care of her two daughters, who were grieving her husband just as much as she was.

But instead she lay in bed day after day. On the good mornings, maybe if Prim begged and pleaded, she'd move to a chair, in front of the fireplace and stare at the flames with the same vacant expression that had replaced the loving, kind woman who'd raised us.

The money from the government, the minuscule amount of money given to keep us afloat until our mother found work, ran out. The meat our father had hunted, the plants he'd saved, ran out. The food we had the small luxury of sometimes buying—or more times than not, trading for—quickly ran out.

And our mother still did absolutely nothing.

I take a deep breath now and try to force myself to forgive her. Forgive her for not being strong enough to keep going, forgive her for not caring enough about her own children to keep them alive in the face of her grief, forgive her for being so in love that losing my father had almost killed her too.

I know it's what my father would want. And I know it's something I can't let myself do. Because if I let her off the hook, it's like saying it's okay that she almost let Prim wither away to nothing. Forget me. I will never forgive her for almost taking my little sister away from me.

Our mother did absolutely nothing until Prim's ribs were prominent, until my stomach was nearly hallow, until our cheekbones were so blatantly obvious you could count them from down the road.

And all my fears, all my resolve, to keep the three of us together as a family, went out the window. There was nothing left to do, but wait for me and Prim to be taken to the Community Home, with the other orphans or kids from unsafe families. Kids who still remained too thin, who's eyes told stories no ear wanted to hear, who still wore bruises upon their skin like freckles from the sun, who looked nearly worse than the corpses I encountered every winter, while walking from the Seam to town. Those corpses were the unlucky ones who'd actually starved to death, who had sat down to merely rest, because they had no substance to carry them any further, and somehow never got back up.

On that day, at eleven years old, living in the Community Home sounded no worse than living with the immobilized shell that had once been my mother. My resolve to hold out until my birthday, until I could get the tesserae that would feed my family for an entire year, was shattered by the harsh raindrops pelting me from the grey, unforgiving sky.

I vaguely heard the baker's wife, the mean-spirited woman, with her deeply embittered, hostile blue eyes that somehow seemed black, scream at me, calling me names, shooing me from her property.

I'd simply wanted to rummage her trashcan, so desperate for any small morsel to take back to Prim, any motivation to take even another step forward, when I felt her rough and calloused hands shove me away.

I toppled over, my legs already weak and shaky from lack of nutrition and substance. My depleted form laid on the ground, my eyes bleary from exhaustion and the shivering wind and rain.

The witch went back inside the bakery as I scarcely conjured up the will to sit upright. I was beyond done. The fighting to even gain a fraction of my mother's awareness, to get something, anything, to feed myself and my starving sister, to even stand up, became overwhelming and I felt the last bit of my resolve crumble from deep inside.

Let them come and take me and Prim to the Community Home. I don't care any longer. Let them come.

Out of the corner of my eye, a boy exited out the same backdoor the witch had gone through. He was carrying a bag of trash in his hands and my famished mind focused on that first, focused on what could be inside the contents of that bag, on what a baker could potentially be throwing away, before I realized the boy was in my year at school. I knew him, or at least, I knew his face. But he stuck with the other blonde-haired, fair-skinned town kids and I didn't even remember his name in that moment.

In hindsight, that's absolutely hysterical now.

But he evaporated as soon as he'd appeared and I closed my eyes and let the rain drown me, hoping perhaps I could be swallowed up within the downpour itself. Hoping that perhaps I'd never have to face the reality that I was out of options and I had nothing of subsidence to take home.

But then I heard a clatter and a clang and the sound of a scream. It was her, the witch. She was screaming and calling someone names my own mother had never even uttered in my lifetime.

I mentally prepared myself for her to come back outside, to drive me away with a stick or a knife. Or possibly even a hot, scorching prong.

But it wasn't the witch. It was the boy, the one from my year. The one I thought went back inside after taking out the trash, that I believed didn't even notice me before.

He was carrying bread. Two loaves, in fact. The crusts were black and burned and the welt across his face told me, without a doubt, that he was the target of the witch's insults. That he was the victim of whatever clanging noise I heard.

And though I was the one starving to death, I didn't envy him having her for a mother.

I remember vividly, the most crystal clear image I have of this day, the boy checking and making sure the witch's attention had been claimed elsewhere. And then, without even glancing in my direction, he tossed one loaf of bread to my feet. Seconds later, the other followed.

He didn't hesitate to head back inside after that, and I've spent more time in these last four years than I'd more than likely care to admit, wondering what possessed him to commit such an act of kindness. No one was kind for free, I'd learned by that point.

And yet, as I shook myself forcefully out of my stupor, and carried the loaves back to my house at the edge of the Seam, I had no explanation for his simple act. I had no basis to explain why he would help me, when no one else ever had.

The next day, I saw him at school. I passed by him in the hallway, and saw his eye had now blackened, his cheek welted, but somehow he still managed a joyous smile. He didn't notice me then. He was surrounded by his friends. Like always, he was surrounded by a constant crowd.

He is, after all, one of the most charming and sweet people Panem's ever known.

Later that day, when I was about to walk home with Prim, who was excitedly chattering about the leftover bread awaiting us on the kitchen table, the bread I'd brought home the night prior that had filled our stomachs for the first time in months, I caught the boy looking in our direction. My grey Seam eyes met his baby blues for a microsecond, before he looked away. I snapped my gaze downwards too, embarrassed, when I caught sight of a dandelion.

It was that moment that a bell went off in my head. That I saw how I could survive, how Prim could survive. How, through the things my dad had taught me, I could keep me and my sister alive.

After that day, I could never stop associating the boy with the bread, the one who gave me hope, with the dandelion that reminded me I wasn't doomed.

I never stopped associating him with his simple act of kindness, even when he became famous for some much less appreciable acts.

And I never stopped kicking myself for failing to thank him, for saving my life and my family's life, before he was whisked away, to a land far from Twelve, called the Capitol. When he later returned, now a part of a much more elite social class, thanking him for his kindness became even less of a possibility.

A girl from the Seam had no business seeking out a boy from Victor's Village. Even if I did have the guts.

Though he isn't exactly in good company here in Twelve, seeing as the only other person who holds the same title is a drunken, middle-aged man who can barely form a coherent sentence most days and lives like a hermit by his own volition.

My thoughts are interrupted by the quiet—almost as quiet as mine, but not quite—steps of Gale.

"You're late," I state without turning around, pulling the cheese from my pocket. "You're lucky Prim's cheese held up under the sun."

But Gale pulls something even more impressive from behind his back. "This will probably go nice with it," he says and I almost gasp.

Fresh bread is so rare in our district, generally reserved for the Peacekeepers and perhaps a merchant who is having a good day. Here in the Seam, fresh bread from the bakery is as common as new school shoes.

Gale updates me on his day as we split the bread and cheese and have our own version of a small feast. He'd gotten to the woods early, while I had been still at home, and shot a squirrel to which he traded for the bread.

"The baker really went for that?" I ask in disbelief. The baker was a subdued, large man, who resembled all three of his sons quietly strongly, and was one of my dad's best customers. Sometimes I think he still trades with me and Gale out of respect to my dad's memory, but a simple squirrel for a loaf of fresh bread isn't common.

"I think he was feeling generous this morning," Gale suggests a little snidely, his bitterness leaking through. "Besides. It's not like the Mellark's need the money they ask for bread. They could easily skim off their precious son and he'd probably never notice."

Gale has a special affinity for hating anyone and anything associated even minimally with the Capitol. He was lost his father in the same mine explosion I lost mine in. But whereas I don't let myself get too worked up over the inequities between the town and the Seam, and especially between us all and the victors, Gale takes a special pride in fuming over the things he cannot change.

I don't mind listening usually, since neither of us can speak our minds in public or even within our own homes, out of fear small ears will pick up on our words and repeat them elsewhere. But today, I just don't have the energy to be a sounding board.

Instead I take a segue towards a slightly different topic, but one, without a doubt, weighing on both our minds. "Prim has been having nightmares of the reaping," I murmur solemnly. "She's convinced they're going to call her name."

Gale shook his head, his demeanor becoming more subdued now. "Least Prim's name is only in there once, Catnip. Rory had to take tesserae this year."

I nod silently at that admission, knowing what it must have cost him to even allow his little brother to take additional risks of being called. Knowing it meant his family of five must be even more hungry than he leads on.

We don't say much more after that, only lingering in the woods long enough to catch some additional game from what I've already collected, and hurry back to town to trade.

As we walk back to the Seam, having divided up our goods evenly, Gale murmurs suddenly, "I might be able to stomach the idea of Rory's name being in that bowl six times if we were still allowed to volunteer."

I bypass his words the best I can. I don't want to think about what Gale must be going through, making himself sick with worry, not for himself but for a sibling in which he considers himself responsible for. And, as it happens once in a lucky moon, I feel grateful that my tesserae is still sufficient for a family of three, and I don't have to worry about Prim the same way. Her one entry pales in comparison to the thousands that are piled in that bowl.

Still, the silence between us as we walk is deafening and I can't take it any longer as we come closer to my house. "At least then, you'd get to see the Capitol," I say lightly, as a means to brighten his mood, even just a little.

At that, Gale rewards me with a humorless smirk. "Generous of the president, isn't it? To allow us district people to experience the great Capitol firsthand while they slaughter our family."

And it's true. Just a few years ago, it was allowed to volunteer as tribute in the place of whoever's name got chosen, as long as you were the same gender and between twelve and eighteen on Reaping Day.

But four years ago, when a twelve-year-old boy volunteered for his seventeen-year-old brother, an outrage sparked across the entire country. People are never happy, in any district, to see a twelve-year-old be chosen for the games. They're the youngest, the smallest, the most innocent, and never in history had a single one made it past the Final Fifteen in the games.

So when one volunteered, the country wasn't pleased in the slightest. However, like always, the anger was contained by Peacekeepers in a matter of weeks, and promises came pouring out from the Capitol that a change would be made after the games that year to ensure never again would this situation occur.

And it never again could. Because three days after the Seventieth Hunger Games, President Snow announced that all volunteering, from that point forward, was officially banned.

This new law is even more ironic when you realize that the twelve-year-old volunteer from that year became the youngest victor in the entire history of the games.

Still, I suppose the president was feeling generous that day, and he threw in a bonus treat for us in the districts. Now when someone is chosen from the reaping bowl, though their fate is sealed definitively when their name is uttered, they get to choose one family member to take on the train ride to the Capitol with them, to get a special viewing of the games with the mentors and the sponsors and the past victors, to get to experience the wonder that is the mysterious Candy Capitol firsthand.

However, when all is said and done, twenty-three family members must ride the train home alone to their districts, with their loved one in a casket beside them. The thought chills me to the bone and I shiver as me and Gale wish each other good luck. We probably won't see each other again until it's time for the customary dinner we all try to put on with our neighbors to celebrate, even minimally, that we've survived another year unchosen.

Prim is already wearing my first reaping outfit when I enter the house, though it is a bit large on her. She's slimmer than even I was at Twelve, despite her having months on me when I attended my first reaping.

I get ready quickly, if only because I want to spend time with her before we have to go. I protect Prim in every way I can but I'm powerless against the reaping.

Still, she's only entered once and that's as safe as anyone can get from being chosen. It's almost unheard in the Seam to be that safe from the games.

But my sister never did appear like she fit in here anyway. Her golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes resemble the merchants, not the Seam, and her and our mother stick out like sore thumbs next to our neighbors.

Our mom is restless now, busying herself with preparing the food for our small feast tonight and braiding Prim's hair and then mine.

I still haven't fully forgiven her for leaving us when we needed her most, but I also can't imagine how difficult it must be to have to send both your children off to be potentially chosen for an absolute death. And I let her hug me as I guide Prim out the door.

Attendance is mandatory for all in the district, but the ones viable for being chosen and those just watching don't typically enter together.

I guide Prim by hand into town, the walk feeling longer than it did with Gale. Perhaps it's the trembling twelve-year-old I'm towing, or perhaps I'm more afraid than I'm even admitting to myself.

After all, unlike my sister, I have twenty slips with my name splayed across this year. It's not as a bad as someone like Gale, who has forty-four chances of being called. But it's not as safe as the kids from town, who likely only have to worry about a handful of slips with their names.

Its not that they're rich by any standard, but they get by better than those in the Seam. Even if they're hungry, they're not at risk of starving, and no one is going to sign up for tesserae unless there is no alternative.

A year ago, my mother let it slip once over dinner, just out of the blue really, that my father had always sworn no child of his would be in need of tesserae.

I shake my head, as if to physically rid myself of the reminder. I don't want to dwell on what my father would feel if he were here. I don't want to be reminded how different things would be if he hadn't died.

I help Prim sign in and then drop her off, as gently as I can, with the other girls her age. At the last minute, she pulls on my hand, yanking me back to her with surprising force.

"Prim, I have to go stand with the sixteens," I say as she leans up and kisses my cheek.

"I just wanted to say I love you," she whispers softly, her big blue eyes so terrified, and then she steps back into the crowd of twelves surrounding her.

I sigh softly and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. She truly is the best of our parents. Kind, smart, level-headed. She's funny and resourceful too, even if she can't take hunting animals herself.

She is the only person I'm certain that I love. And just about the only thing that keeps me going most days.

As I make my way to the sixteens, straightening my mother's dress on my hips, I check the clock. Only five minutes before we start. Before our lovely Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, reads off two names in her distinctive, afflicted accent. Before two kids know they're never coming home again.

This place isn't much. But it is all we've ever known, and no one wishes to leave it.

As more people crowd in, I begin to pick up an excited buzz in the girls surrounding me. Already knowing what I'll see, I crane my neck just the same, to peer up at the stage ahead.

Sure enough, I see exactly what I knew I would.

There's four chairs set up on the stage. One for Effie Trinket, because no one from the Capitol could ever bear to stand for more than three minutes at a time and she must have a seat to relax in before she calls out the names and sends two of us—a lucky boy and girl, as she says it—to the slaughter.

One of the other chairs is occupied by Mayor Undersee. A man who looks like he's been beaten down by life too many times as it is and would rather be anywhere but here. His daughter is my age. She sits with me at lunch, since Gale is two grades ahead of me and we rarely see each other at school. We make polite small talk but other than that, I barely know anything about her, and by association, her father.

However, it's neither of them that's stirring up the buzz within the crowd—admittedly, more so with the female portion of the crowd—and it's definitely not Haymitch Abernathy, who's stumbling on stage right at this moment. He managed to win the Fiftieth Hunger Games and I still can't imagine how. He's a paunchy man my mother's age and he's never sober, on the rare time he's even seen in public. Today is no exception, as he flops onto a chair gruffly, and murmurs something unintelligible with his eyes closed.

No, the murmuring, the now batting eyes and coy smiles, the soft vibrato still traveling within the crowd, are all because of the last guest of honor, walking upon the stage right behind his old mentor.

Peeta Mellark.

Winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games. Youngest ever. District Twelve's first and last volunteer. The twelve-year-old that changed the rules for the entire country.

The youngest mass murderer in history of Panem.

And now one of it's most beloved celebrities.

Peeta is smart—brilliantly smart—and he's always been charismatic. Even at twelve, he had the Capitol audience, as well as every single soul watching on television at home, eating out of the palm of his hand.

It doesn't hurt that at sixteen, he's become quite a looker. His blonde curls, his blue eyes, those long lashes and bubblegum pink lips. His fair, perfect skin that has not a blemish in sight. His toned, muscular body and devastatingly genuine smile that no one can help but fall in love with.

He's also the boy who saved my life. The one who committed the simple act of kindness, knowing it would cost him, to help me.

I never thanked him. And now I never can, as I'm sure he has zero memory of me. After everything else that's happened to him since, after the last four years of living as a Capitol darling, as one of the country's most cherished victors, he'd never remember the starving eleven-year-old he threw some burned bread to in a rainstorm.

But I remember him. I don't know if it's what he did for me that day or what he did for his brother only a matter of weeks later, but something about Peeta Mellark crawled under my skin four years ago and ever since, I've never been able to completely shake the feeling I get inside upon seeing him.

I break my gaze away, refusing to stare at the boy, who I will always accredit as the one who saved my life. I venomously refuse to gawk at him, like every other girl in the district.

He rarely comes out of his house when he's home here in Twelve, and I know the overzealous amount of attention he receives just by going to his parents' bakery has to be at least a part of the reason. Unlike Haymitch, who has lost his clout and his appeal with age and with deterioration, Peeta has only gained more and more notoriety as the years pass by.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in Twelve, outside of a few outliers like Gale perhaps, who'd say a negative word about Peeta Mellark.

Of course, rumors about his random and long stretches spent in the Capitol itself are always floating around, no matter what time of year it is, but they don't affect his public persona or anyone's opinion of him. He is, after all, the most valuable figure Twelve has and perhaps the only thing we can take any pride in.

Effie Trinket steps up to the microphone just as I turn my head away from the stage. "Welcome!" She greets, so vivaciously, so brightly, I can't imagine it even resonates in her head that she's just moments away from announcing two of our impending funerals. "Welcome, everyone! To the reaping for the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games!"

I can't even bear to listen as she prattles on, with too much confidence and dignity for someone dressed in every neon color known to man, speaking in such a peculiar accent, with a thickly painted face that is so blatantly visible to the every eye here today, even in the back row. Doesn't she realize how ridiculous she is to us? Doesn't she realize how wrong it is to preach about the morals and disciplines of the Capitol, in such a prideful voice, when they're the ones about to murder us for entertainment, and in repentance for a long over war that only a few elders can still remember?

As I advert my eyes, my gaze travels once again to the back of the stage, and I'm more than a little surprised to see Peeta Mellark with a similar expression as mine. He, too, is shifting his eyes elsewhere, away from his own escort, looking sick to his stomach.

Of course, it still can't be easy for him, even with his own games four years in the past. He was a literal child when he volunteered and it's fact that he didn't understand what he was getting himself into when he took his brother's place that fateful day. His innocence was stolen as soon as the countdown ended and talk still circulates, even in the Hob, that he wakes up screaming most nights, calling out the names of fallen tributes. Though those words are not given much weight in the Seam, as we all know, people get bored in this tiny district and bored people begin to spew lies whenever encouraged.

Effie continues, in a long overdone mantra, one I could recite in my sleep, the same one she spews every year, that two kids from every district must be chosen to battle to the death in a new and invigorating—one of her favorite words—arena, in order to pay for the blood shed during the rebellion and war, in order to ensure we'll never again even think to rebel.

It would almost be easier to swallow, this whole charade, if the people sent from the strange land of the Capitol would just be honest and blunt with us. If they'd just admit that they see us as lesser than, as animals or beasts of some sort, as less than human beings. It'd be easier if the Capitol spokespeople would just outright say, "we'll take your children, we'll starve your district, we'll ruin your homes, we'll broadcast the deaths of those you love most, all to keep you too powerless to fight. In order to make sure you never are able to stand strong, we have to kick your legs out from under you first."

Instead of being honest though, Effie Trinket is reiterating the Treaty Of Treason, in a tone so serious that it takes all the self-control possible to stop several boys standing in the fourteens from bursting out laughing. Her accent and a serious tone do not mesh well together.

Once she's done though, my heart automatically skips a beat. Because, after four years of standing in this square, I know exactly what's coming. "Ladies first!" Effie announces and I feel a bead of sweat glide down my forehead, both from anxiety and from the overload of heat. Reapings always take place in the start of the hottest month of the year.

Standing in my mother's well-crafted dress, one of the most luxurious pieces of clothing we own, only makes my perspiration worsen, as the dress was clearly made to keep the wearer as warm as possible.

Our district escort makes her way over the bowl containing the names of every girl eligible to be picked in the entire district and I feel myself take in a breath involuntarily.

There's twenty chances she's going to call out my name. Twenty chances I'll be sent to an almost imminent death. Twenty chances Prim will grow into her teen years, and later adulthood, without a sister.

The gut-churning fear I'd repressed all morning, in that moment, overtakes my entire being, curling up like a ball in the pit of my stomach, as I do my best to listen on baited breath, somehow expecting to hear my own name spoken through the raucous microphone for all to hear.

Don't be me, I whisper inside my head, more fearful than I'd ever admit out loud. Don't be me. Please, don't be me.

And, as it turns out, it's not me.

Instead it's the name I never in a million years thought I'd hear. The name I believed to be so safe I didn't even allow myself to worry about her.

"Primrose Everdeen!"