#kind of like my young adult life is ending

[goodluckclove]

On Not Writing

Hi! I'm back. i had a fun two days of doing absolutely nothing writing related, including scrolling this blog. Wife and I played a lot of Valheim. Took a lot of bike rides. Watched Interstellar for the first time - pretty good, kind of silly at the end. It was my first two-day weekend in probably three months, so it was much-needed, hard as it was.

And it got me thinking of some things I wanted to say to the community here. It's especially targeted towards younger writers, of which I used to be one, but I think it can apply to anyone who finds themselves despairing over how much they aren't writing.

Let's imagine you're sitting with me in this coffee shop. It's an overcast Portland morning and I just inadvertently vivisected a croissant. And as we sip our drinks (I ordered a lavender latte), you lament to me. I don't know what to do, Clove. I just haven't been writing!

You know what I say to that?

Good.

This is a new hot take of mine that I, once again, worry about upsetting people with. Because I see a lot of guides here about how to write, or how to write consistently, or how to write through writers block. But I haven't seen a single person talking about the inverse - how to not write. Or - perhaps more accurately - how to exist as a human being separate from your identity as a writer.

This is a problem for me.

Listen - I started young. I was 12 when I wrote my first novella, and 13 when I completed my first novel the next year. Adults in my life were impressed by the big-eyed child writing so many words. They encouraged me. I wrote two more novels, and they continued to encourage me. Because of the potential, right? I could be successful. I could be famous.

People stopped pushing me to try other things. I saw I was getting validation as a writer, so that only pushed me to continue fixating over something I was already enjoying and getting pretty good at. Dad had me writing two thousand words every day, because that's what Stephen King did. At 16 I finished four full-length novels, which everyone thought was really cool and interesting. I was also sporting dual hand braces every day throughout the winter to cope with the carpal tunnel I still struggle with to this day.

There is encouraging a person in their passion. There is also poisoning them with the belief that their self-worth comes from pursuing that passion. This is entirely, absolutely, even more true for younger writers and artists.

I am enraged for the young writer in my heart and in my head. Because they worried about a lot of the same things I see people worry about on here. Oh, if I don't write I'm not a writer! And to an extent they're right, as to be a writer you need to at some point write some stuff.

But here's the fucking thing, Young Clover - a child should not strive for the work ethic of a professional adult. You did not need to write 2k words a day to be a writer. You were a writer as soon as you updated that terrible Invader Zim fanfiction you wrote when you were 10.

And more than that, though, the most important thing to a person should not be their job and aspirations. If you don't write every day, you're still a writer. If you've never written anything, you aren't - and that's fine. You might write something later down the line, or you might not. Either way you are still entitled to exist on the planet and capable of living a full and passionate and wonderful life.

Hear my words: being a writer is not more important than being a human being.

If you aren't writing right now, maybe you're not supposed to be. Maybe you're meant to be nurturing your relationships, or nurturing yourself. Maybe you're supposed to be volunteering. Or meeting new people. Or gaining a new field of knowledge. Or getting really good at making focaccia bread. Or watching every Mark Wahlberg movie.

I don't like to hear this any more than you do. If I was told that I, for some reason, was not allowed to write for the rest of my life, I would be miserable for maybe a long time. After that passed it's my hope that I would move on and do other things, because my worth is not dependent on being a writer. I like doing it. I like being it, and I hope to be one for the rest of my life. But I never want it to be the first thing people see when they look at me. I don't even like bringing it up in conversation with people I don't already know.

So yeah, if you have "writer's block", maybe consider putting down the pickaxe and getting some rest. Step away entirely from the large boulder that stands between you being the next Stephen King or Brandon Sanderson or Teen Dystopia Writer no. 2321. Take a break, and I mean an ACTUAL break, not the kind where you spend the whole time sulking about work.

I am legitimately begging the writers on here to have developed lives and interests outside of writing. I am begging because I do not have that and it has consistently been one of the hardest things of my life.

You prioritize living outside your writing and it will improve the quality of your writing when you get back to it, as it'll allow you a frame of reference that extends beyond our niche industry. Or it might make you realize that, while you enjoy writing, what you really love is ceramics. Or game developing. Or mutual-aid activism. Or the movies of Mark Wahlberg.

It is not your job to treat yourself like you already have a dozen deadlines and an audience teetering on the edge of disappointment. That's ultimately not going to help you. Your job on this earth is to exist fully, for the sake of the universe that wants so desperately to live vicariously through you.

So breathe. Breathe and calm down. You aren't a failure and there's nothing you have to prove. All you have to do today is drink some water and have a nice snack while you look at a cloud.

Please be kind. All of us need to be kinder to each other and to ourselves.

That's all I want to say. I love you dearly. Please let me know if you need anything.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #on writing #authors of tumblr #writing #queer writers #actually writing #writing inspiration #writing inspo #writing resources #young writer #creative writing

[magnetic-dogz]

Those posts that are like "your friends are allowed to fuck up and disagree with you" are changing me and my outlook tbf. I got all those "cut all the toxic people out of your life #selfcare" posts ingrained in my head for years and because of that had it stuck in my brain that "if friend disagree with me and is kind of mean to me they're not my friend" and because of that man I've just. I've axed a few friendships that could've lasted a while if I'd just bothered to talk it out with the other person or educate them. Don't drop your friends at the drop of a hat dude

#cookie.txt #there's been a couple of times where i did give people like. multiple chances however #and they still wouldn't change their behavior #and in that case? you definitely need to cut that kind of person out #because if they routinely upset and mentally exhaust you to be around #and they don't change ever even after you bring it up multiple times? #that's a kind of person you really don't need in your life. #all in all though... if it's something that you can talk to another person over #and if they're willing to listen #it's nothing worth ending a friendship over #and as obvious as it is i wish i had it drilled into my head sooner when i became a young adult

[midwestgender]

people who are like i just cant help it i love watching people die horrifically and have their limbs cut off. its because im autistic okay. anyways do you think im cool and edgy and #fucked up. also ive loved cannibalism ever since i was little haha. yeah i know im fucked up and have issues and make myself a problem for other people but i am unable to take accountability for my actions because of mental illnesses and trauma. im extremely cool because i love watching videos of (majority non-white) people die on the internet. are you scared of me? i want you to be scared of me soooo bad. if you dont engage with my fantasy of being treated like the equivalent to jeffrey dahmer than i have no interest in talking to you. what do you mean its abundantly clear ive never met someone whose actually killed another person…. no i cant explain prison abolition to you what lmfao

#everyone ive met like this is also abusive in their interpersonal relationships and also white #i just do not have time for people like this anymore like #yeah many of us got repeatedly exposed to gore as a young child #and yeah i myself sought it out in my early teen years! #but doing it as adult just tells me that you dont understand the social dynamics of why #certain videos like these end up on the internet #and why YOU white american person is the one who is reaping consumption off of these peoples suffering #like as someone who has met many many many murderers (i am in several circles of previously incarcerated people) #you would be shocked at how very normal these people are and frequently they are kind and friendly and just made a huge life altering mistak #you clearly have dehumanized murderers in your head so much #like i am not afraid of theze people because out of them like #1/100 is a legitimate threat of harm to other people #and really the only tome they are a threat is to the people in their close interpersonal relationships #but i dont want to get close to these people because they are annoying as shit LOL so im safe from them #and their stupidity

[queertemporality]

we just truly can't have productive conversations about depression and chronic pain until we recognize the latter's role in causing the former. and obviously the relationship there is significantly more complex than that, but the basic sentiment holds true. i'm always torn between phrasing my experiences in a way that forces doctors to acknowledge this connection, and knowing that in certain cases, admitting to the ongoing presence of any depression or depression-adjacent emotions surrounding my physical health could potentially lead to massive delays in adequate treatment as i embark on the tedious process of proving the absence of any 'mental health issues' in order to have the physical ones taken seriously. like, come on. you know that's not how this works, right?

#post #thankfully not inspired by anything i'm CURRENTLY experiencing and honestly as i've gotten older i encounter this less and less #possibly due to a combination of changes in attitudes by healthcare providers (thank goodness) #and also changes in attitude of my own (i was taken SIGNIFICANTLY less seriously as a child/young adult of course) #i am still kind of mad about my pre-surgical questionnaire a few years ago #when theyre like 'have you ever wanted to die?' i wanted to be like i am in excruciating and untreated pain. do you want the real answer? #or the answer that's going to get me into the operating room without putting me through the rigamarole of performative care #nasty and horrid #like no i don't want to talk to your psychologist about how life is precious #if life is so precious perhaps you should channel more resources into pain management & reproductive health issues #think. on. that. #sorry this is legit traumaposting but i'm also just mad at how the relationship btwn depression/anxiety #and physical issues are discussed... honestly how that relationship is constructed #when you try so hard to split mind from body you end up sounding so so silly

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: black science fiction

As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.

Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor

Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.

Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes

Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*

Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.

Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson

In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.

Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh

Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.

Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud

Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon

The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.

Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden

Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*

In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*

In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.

Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor

Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.

War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi

In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.

The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson

Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!

The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*

In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.

The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*

In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden

South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*

Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.

The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport

After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.

Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany

1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.

Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi

Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.

Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool

Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes

Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.

The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow

Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.

Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.

Orleans by Sherri L. Smith

Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole

#nella talks books #lagoon #nubia the awakening #the scourge between stars #xenogenesis #midnight robber #rosewater #do you dream of terra two? #the best of all possible worlds #mirage #an unkindness of ghosts #where it rains in color #escaping exodus #chain gang all stars #parable of the sower #binti #war girls #the space between worlds #the fifth season #the women could fly #the prey of gods #the summer prince #the blood trials #babel 17 #pet

[kedreeva]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

#steelsong #personal #stories about ked's life #dash stretcher #fandom #god she would have loved ao3 so much #i wish i could tell her about the good things that have become

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

#Round 4 #Glenn Close #Lup #Lup TAZ #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies #Glenn Close DnDads #The Adventure Zone #TAZ Balance

[sorcerous-caress]

could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

#♡shart #♡minthara #♡karlach #♡Jaheira #♡Halsin #♡Astarion #♡Gale #♡Wyll #♡Laezel #♡fluff #shadowheart x reader #Shadowheart #karlach x reader #Karlach #astarion x reader #Astarion #minthara x reader #minthara baenre #gale x reader #gale dekarios #halsin x reader #Halsin #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard #laezel #laezel x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 fluff #fluff #♡several characters

[writingforstraykids]

I keep thinking about dilf!Felix like him being your besties dad or something….

-🎀

I swear I've been staring at this for so long, debating if I should do a full fic or just some thoughts. Well, thank my dear Azzy @galaxycatdrawz for this, because you made his thoughts go wild. Basically I just had to transform his whole little plan into a fic. There will be 2nd chapter (including smut) but have fun with this for now.🖤

Finding home in your heart

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader (mention of Minchan | Jisung)

Word Count: 7571

Summary: Felix got cheated on by his wife repeatedly and ends up heartbroken after the discovery. His adoptive daughter, your best friend, tells you the whole story and asks you to move in as you're struggling to find a place. Your only problem; you had a crush on Felix for ages and living with him isn't making it easier...

Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt!comfort, fluff, insecure!lix, domestic shit, baking, cuddles, slowburn (ig?), first kiss, age difference (8 years, it's legal since this fic is for adults, chill out)

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix’s love life had been nothing but a steady stream of predictable days blending into years. He would have never doubted his beautiful wife and would have never second-guessed her love for him. They had gotten married early and soon found out his wife was incapable of carrying his children. So, after some consideration, they adopted a young girl and raised her like their own. She had grown into a smart young woman, and Felix couldn’t be more proud of her. Given the age gap of only ten years he had always been rather close with her and later you, her best friend.

One night he decided to surprise his wife, coming home early as his daughter was staying at yours. What greeted him wasn’t the usual warmth and coziness of his home but the sight of his wife in a certain setting no man wants to find the love of his life in with another man. For a moment, Felix found himself frozen in place, the safe foundation of his life slowly crumbling away beneath his feet. He whispered her name in disbelief, only to find out that this had been going on for years. Felix felt like his whole life shattered to pieces and the betrayal left an ugly taste of bitterness on his lips. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this?

-

“And then she just left,” your best friend ends her story, and your eyes grow even wider than they have already been. 

“You’re kidding?” you ask, shocked. 

“Apparently, she said something about how this shit has been going on for years, that she never really loved him, and that she’ll leave until he finds a new place,” she rages on and paces her bedroom angrily. “Oh, and I’m just another burden he talked her into,” she scoffs, and your frown deepens. 

“You won’t stay here, right?” you ask cautiously. You can’t imagine she will, but still. 

“Oh, hell no. I’ll go with Dad, she can piss off,” she shakes her head and drops onto her mattress. “The perk of being not related to her is that I can push her out of my life for good,” she snorts, and you gently pat her back. “I feel so bad for him,” she sighs. 

“It must’ve been a huge shock,” you nod, your heart feeling heavy. Felix has always been kind to you from day one. Whenever your family was struggling, he helped out, even if it was simply by taking you with them to theme parks, the movies, or shopping. Felix was only eight years older than you and ten years older than your best friend, so the older you got, the more he felt like an older friend instead of your best friend’s father. Also, he was stunningly handsome, but that wasn’t relevant right now.

“He’s trying to hide it, but I know how shitty he feels right now,” she tells you worriedly. “I mean, he’s never been with anyone else and-.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you assure her gently. “He has such a kind heart, I’m sure someone will love him, truly.”

“I will thoroughly check the next person. You’ll have to help me then, go all detective on them,” she smirks, and you agree, laughing. 

A gentle knock at the door interrupts you, and Felix opens the door flashing you a tired smile as a greeting before glancing at his daughter. “Channie called, he has a spare place we can have.”

“Just like that?” she asks baffled. 

Felix chuckles weakly and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. I told him I’d pay, but Minho insisted they don’t need the place, and it’s all paid off.”

“How convenient,” she smirks and rolls her eyes. “Typical uncle Min,” she grins.

“Yeah,” he laughs and sighs softly. “You think you can get everything ready in the next few days?”

“You really can’t wait to get out of here, huh?” she laughs, and his smile dies, eyes clouding with pain. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he nods and clears his throat as his daughter looks at him apologetically. “Well, let me know when you’re hungry, and we can order something,” he announces, putting on a smile and quickly pulling the door closed. 

“See?” she whispers. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

You hum gently and pat your best friend’s knee. “Well, I can help you move, I have nothing to do those next few weeks.” 

“You’re so sweet,” she giggles and hops up, ripping the door open. “Dad, Y/nnie says she’s gonna help us move our stuff!” she shouts downstairs. 

“Lovely,” Felix shouts back halfheartedly and flinches as his daughter slams the door closed again. “Fucks sake, this woman,” he snorts and stands still in the living room for a moment. He chews on his lower lip as the many memories he made in this very room crash over him like a wave, trying to drown him. “You’re such a dumbass,” he whispers to himself. 

“No, you’re not, she’s just a massive bitch,” you speak up gently, suddenly standing in the living room with him. 

He blinks at you with wide, confused eyes before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Mhm, you could say that. Doesn’t make me any wiser, letting her fool me for the past ten years,” he huffs softly and rubs his face. “I just feel bad for her,” he says, and you know he means your best friend upstairs. “All I always wanted for her was a stable home after everything she went through.”

“Look at her, you did great,” you tell him, and he chuckles weakly.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” he waves you off and blinks at you surprised as you offer him a hug. He accepts it after a short moment of hesitation and bites back a laugh as you pat his back encouragingly. 

“You’ll be okay…she’ll never find someone better, so fuck her. It’s her loss,” you tell him, and Felix snorts before letting go of you and grabbing his phone. 

“We’ll see,” he hums softly, subtly bringing some distance between the two of you again. “You’re gonna stay for dinner?” he asks, and you gently shake your head. 

“I promised Mum I’d be home for dinner today,” you tell him, and he nods gently.

“You need a ride?” he offers, and you wave him off. 

“I’ll be fine, promise,” you assure him and exchange your goodbyes.

One week later

You put down the boxes you carried inside and look around with wide eyes. “Wow, Min wasn’t lying. This place is huge.”

“Right? I didn’t quite believe it as well,” your best friend giggles and puts down her boxes as well.

“Why would I lie about that, huh?” Minho asks playfully offended, adding some boxes on the floor next to yours. “You think we’d give your dad and you some shabby place? You think that lowly of us?”

Chan pokes his side, making him squeak and giggles as Minho playfully raises his fists to fight him. “Relax, no one’s calling you a liar, baby.”

“Sure hope so,” he teases and naturally intertwines their hands, pulling Chan with him. “You haven’t seen the view from up here yet,” he announces and waves you after him.

You follow the pair of them onto the huge balcony, and your breath hitches. From up here, you can see parts of the city and the ocean, and still it’s so peaceful up here. 

“How’s your dad, kiddo?” Minho asks your best friend after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Worse than he admits,” she answers, and Minho hums gently. “If you ask me, he’s fucking heartbroken and feels worthless. If you ask him, he’s okay and just a little caught up in his thoughts,” she further explains. 

“Give him time,” Chan tells her gently and sighs, looking down at the ocean. “Ten years is a lot, you know?”

The door to the balcony opens, and Felix steps outside, laughing at you all. “Seriously? You’re out here enjoying the view while I’m carrying all those boxes?” he asks, and you all start laughing before hurrying back inside to help him.

Once everything is inside, Minho and Chan give you a tour through the house and you wonder what Felix and your friend would do with all this space. The couple soon leaves again to give them some space to settle in. 

Your best friend strolls through the house and frowns softly. “You’re alright?” Felix asks her, frowning softly. “I know it’s not home, but we can make it work, it’ll just need some time and-.”

“Dad, home is wherever you are, relax,” she laughs, and Felix nods, stunned, looking adorably touched by her words. “I just…this place is huge.”

“It is,” he nods. “I have no idea what the hell they had planned for this.”

“Nothing useful, as Min put it,” you chime in, and Felix grins at your remark.

“I’ll feel so lonely here if you’re at work,” she speaks up after a moment, and Felix’s face softens.

“Dear, there’ll be a point in your life when you move out and everything. I won’t always be around,” he says, and she glares at him. 

“Don’t say shit like that, you’re only ten years older than I am, it’ll take a while,” she points out, and he snorts but gives in, remaining quiet. “Y/nnie, how’s the hunt for a flat going?” she asks.

“I already told you it’s shit,” you sigh softly, not quite picking up on her true intentions behind that question. “It’s either too expensive or so much out of town it’s not exactly convenient.”

“Oh, you’re going to move out?” Felix asks, busying himself with one of the boxes.

“I want to, my parents could use the space for something else,” you nod.

“Dad?” she asks, drawing out the word with a sweet tone. 

“What do you want?” he asks, not even looking up.

“She could move in with us,” she says, and you frown at her. Felix looks up, confused, and tilts his head at her. “She can’t find a place, I worry about getting lonely here…you could use some more company as well before you’re fully depressed and-.”

“Will you stop?” he snaps at her. “I’m not depressed, I’m fine besides the fact that I got cheated on after wasting ten years of my life,” he continues and shakes his head at her. “Stop reading into it that much, I’ll start believing you at this point.”

You lower your gaze at the floor and awkwardly shuffle on your feet. “Gosh, relax,” she sighs. “That just proved my point.”

Felix throws the contents of the box back inside and pushes himself up. “I’m getting some fresh air. And yes, you can move in if you want to, it’s not like we’d lack space or whatever,” he says before leaving the two of you. 

“Nice one,” you sigh softly. 

“What?” she groans and rolls her eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“And that makes it better?” you chuckle, and she huffs softly. “Fine, fine, I’ll go apologize…but would you?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh softly. “I’d feel like I’m intruding,” you argue gently. 

“Never,” she shakes her head firmly. “Also, you’re here every day anyway, so nothing changes,” she grins before sighing softly. “Dad?” she shouts, and you roll your eyes at her.

Should you? Move in with your best friend and her heartbroken, conveniently handsome adoptive father? That could only go wrong, right?

You join them on the balcony and sigh softly, meeting your best friend’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

She shouts in joy and pulls you into a tight hug, hopping excitedly. “You’re the best best friend I could’ve ever wished for!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, catching Felix smirking at the two of you.

Three weeks later

You hum to yourself as you make your way from the kitchen to the living room area. Your best friend is staying the night at her boyfriend’s, and Felix is out on Stray Kids duty, as you jokingly call it. So, for now, you have the whole house to yourself. You moved in fully about two weeks ago, and your new room is bigger than you ever dared to imagine. There’s an attached bathroom as well, and your few things look ridiculous, trying to fill up all that space you have now. 

You grab your phone and check your messages before scrolling through some news. Refreshing the page, a new article appears on top, and you realize it’s about Felix. Curiously, you click on it, and your eyes widen, realizing it’s about what happened with his wife. You read through it and smile sadly; Felix seems to have tried putting it as respectfully and vague as he could. You don’t support what that woman did for years one bit, but you also know how their fans can get so you’re glad Felix tries to stay neutral in public.

You glance up from your phone as the front door opens downstairs, and Felix comes up the stairs only a little later. Looking at him, you can tell he was crying, and your heart sinks to your stomach, seeing how tired he looks. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow softly as he stops in his tracks as if he just remembered you live here as well. “You’re okay?” you ask softly, and for the first time in weeks, Felix shakes his head.

“Not really, no,” he admits, his voice a little raspy. You can tell he’s fighting back tears, and you gently pat the spot next to you on the sofa. Felix momentarily searches your eyes before moving forward and dropping down on the sofa next to you. “I know it’s my own fault because I took off my wedding ring but I didn’t expect them to ask already,” he tells you quietly and nervously fidgets with his hands. “Chan told me to be honest before she comes up with something that’ll drag me down.”

“I think you’ve handled it quite well,” you tell him gently, and he groans in response.

“Already online, huh?” he sighs, and you hum softly. Felix throws his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. You can’t help but take in his side profile and let your eyes wander down his neck. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?” you ask gently.

“I have to have an explanation for everything as if I’d know why she cheated. Maybe it’s because I’ve been gone often with all our schedules. Maybe she got bored. Maybe she just saw past that facade of fame and sunshine behavior and realized I’m not as lovable as everyone thinks I am,” he huffs, making you frown at him. “Maybe she never loved me in the first place, and I can’t even blame her for that.”

“Stop it now,” you scold him firmly and Felix turns his head, blinking at you. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s just a massive bitch and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you?”

“Not really, no,” he shakes his head and sits up straight again. “That’s rather unlikely, isn’t it? There’s always a reason people cheat.”

“Sometimes it’s simply stupidity,” you insist. “Not everything is your fault, Felix.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” he asks quietly, and your heart breaks at the desperate glint in his eyes. “Why does it feel like I’m the one who fucked it all up? And why doesn’t she care one bit, and I’m here feeling like complete shit?”

“Because you loved her,” you say quietly and watch his face fall. “She didn’t try to make it right, did she? She didn’t protest when you suggested a divorce.” Felix shakes his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she never loved you for who you truly are. Maybe all she saw was the fame, the money, the places you went to…but how is that your fault?”

“I…I should’ve known,” he says quietly, his lower lip quivering a little. 

“You can’t know that shit if they’re good at hiding and pretending. Who knows how long she could’ve kept up that show if you hadn’t come home early that day?” you ask, and Felix avoids your observant gaze, staring down at his hands. “The only thing you’re at fault for is beating yourself up for this and thinking you’re worthless.”

Felix remains quiet and presses his lips together tightly as hot tears run down his cheeks. His hair falls into his face as his head hangs low, and you can only tell as he sniffles softly. You hesitantly reach out for him and rub his back soothingly. Felix whispers an apology and buries his face in his hands, a quiet sob rippling through his body. You don’t know where you get the confidence from, but you move before you can reconsider what you’re about to do. Wrapping your arm around him, you pull him into a warm embrace and gently rub his shoulder. Felix tenses up briefly before he relaxes into your touch, allowing himself the comfort you spend. 

It doesn’t last for all too long, and Felix pushes himself off the sofa, messily wiping his cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-,” he stammers and exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t dump this all on you.”

“I don’t-” you start and shut your mouth as he raises his hand to stop you. 

“I know you don’t mind. I know,” he says and shakily wipes his cheek. “That doesn’t make it any better. I appreciate you trying to help, but I’ll go before I start unloading even more nonsense,” he sniffles and flashes you a sad smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you nod gently and watch him leave. Only then do you notice your heart racing in your chest and the wet patch of his tears in your sweater. “So much to keeping boundaries, Y/n,” you scold yourself, rubbing your face tiredly.

Felix closes the door to his room and buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers and stands still for a moment. What is he doing, sobbing in his daughter’s best friend’s arms? Is he going insane? Felix closes his eyes and tries to forget how comfortable your hug felt, how good you smelled, and how soothing your presence was to him. “Fuck,” he whispers into the emptiness of his room.

One week later

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you walk down the hallway, clutching your visitor pass. Your best friend asked you to pick up Felix from work tonight because she had to work late and would then stay at her boyfriend's again. Would he think weirdly of you for it? He's been avoiding you a little after that emotional breakdown a week ago, and you can't blame him. 

You reach Chan's studio and knock gently, letting yourself in. 

“Oh, Y/nnie,” Chan greets you cheerfully. 

“Haven't seen you here in a while,” Minho adds curiously. 

“Yeah, uh, I have to pick up Felix,” you say, and they frown. 

“I thought-”

“No, she's working late and staying at her boyfriend's or something like that,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“She asks you to move in so she isn't lonely and leaves all the time,” Minho shakes his head, amused. “Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Lix, then.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you nod. “Where is he?”

“In the practice room down the hallway. Uh…he's in a shit mood today,” Minho tells you. 

“Define shit mood,” you chuckle. 

“Everything is shit, nothing works, he's useless,” Chan sighs softly and shakes his head. “We tried.”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Fine, I'll do my best.”

“Good luck,” Chan giggles. 

Only a little later, you open the door to the practice room and slip inside. You frown as you spot Felix stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I swear, Channie, if you're here to tell me another bad joke that's supposed to make me laugh, I'll snap,” he announces. 

You stop next to him and tilt your head at him. “Not Channie,” you say. “What's that supposed to be?” you ask, vaguely waving at his current position. 

“It's my new favorite yoga position called utter depression,” he says dryly and throws you a peace sign. “That's I'm a failure, what's your name?”

“Chan wasn't lying,” you nod slowly. 

“Did Chan call you? Seriously?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows. 

“No. In fact, it was your lovely daughter asking me to come pick you up. She's working late, and then she'll stay over at her boyfriend's.”

“I still can't believe she asked you to move in so she wouldn't be lonely, and now she's barely home,” Felix snorts and groans softly. 

“Mhm, you guys are repeating yourselves, Min said the same thing,” you tell him and gently poke his side with your shoe. “What's going on, Mr. utter depression?” 

“Nothing, as you can see,” he sighs. “I fucked up during practice today. Minho only didn't call me out for all the mistakes because he felt sorry for me at the time,” he tells you. 

“And that led you down the good old road to self-hatred?” you ask, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Maybe,” he answers vaguely. 

“Surely,” you correct him. “Lix?” you ask gently, and he turns his head toward you. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head as his eyes trace your features. 

“We could take a walk and grab some food on the way. We don't have to talk or anything. It's just for you to clear your head and empty all that garbage you keep up there,” you tell him, tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. 

You exchange your goodbyes with Min and Chan, who secretly throw some hearts your way when Felix isn't looking. Idiots. 

-

After that evening, it all got easier again. You didn't talk much that day, but the fresh air, bright lights, and warm food had lightened Felix's mood immensely. Over the following two weeks, you two grew closer, and Felix allowed himself to be more open. With your best friend gone quite frequently, it was often only you and him. 

The more time you spent together, the more you realized how ridiculously perfect Felix was. His beautiful brown eyes, soft features adorned by all those sweet freckles, and blond hair falling around his face made your stomach flip. His sweet smile and even prettier laugh made you feel like winning a trophy every time you were the reason for it. He's so kind and polite that it makes your head spin. 

Felix can't quite stop himself from looking at you whenever you don't notice. The more time you spend, the more he notices how beautiful you are. How caring and gentle. Your smile brightens his days and he can't fully shake the longing to be in your arms again off. He hasn't felt as comfortable around someone in a while, and there's a lingering worry in the back of his head telling him that he really shouldn't allow himself to fall for you. It only gets worse watching you doing the most mundane things and wishing that you wouldn't leave again. 

-

Another two weeks later your best friend announces she'll be abroad for a holiday with her boyfriend for two weeks. Two weeks. It'll only be Felix and you for fourteen days. That thought wasn't helping your anxious heart, trying not to fall for him at all. 

You decided to make the best out of it and forget about your worries. Seeing Felix smile again was all that counted. 

The first morning, Felix tiredly strolls down the hallway from his room and stops in his tracks when he sees you at the stove. A sweet scent lingers in the kitchen, and he realizes you're making pancakes for breakfast. His heart picks up pace, and he takes a deep breath, reminding himself to act normal. “Morning,” he says, not knowing that his even deeper morning voice sends shivers down your spine. 

“Good morning,” you smile at him, bright as ever. He has to look somewhere else to stop himself from blushing. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” you tell him, and he hums softly. 

Felix sits down at the kitchen island and watches you thoughtfully. It's ridiculous how used to your presence he got over the past few weeks. Almost as if he couldn't imagine it any other way anymore. “Do you have any plans for today?” he asks and you shake your head as you put the pancakes on a big plate. 

“Why?” you ask curiously and turn off the stove. 

“Uh, I was thinking about painting her room since she wanted a new color so badly…I was wondering if you'd like to help?” he asks nervously. 

You put down the plate and nod. “Sure, why not?” 

Felix flashes you a sweet smile and thanks you as you hand him a plate with some pancakes. They're so fluffy they almost melt on his tongue, and he has trouble biting back a moan. “Oh, they're amazing,” he tells you and notices the subtle blush settling on your cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you smile almost shyly. 

Seriously, can't you give him a break? 

-

After breakfast, Felix takes a quick shower, and you put on some clothes that could be ruined by the paint. You meet again in your best friend's room, and you smile at how soft Felix looks in a pair of gray sweatpants and a wide sweater. You pull all the furniture away from the walls, covering everything up before Felix shows you how to apply the paint properly. In the beginning, you're both quietly working and it feels peaceful, just focusing on painting for now. Then Felix starts talking, trying to kill the silence. “I signed the divorce papers yesterday,” he says casually, and you need a moment to figure out how to answer. 

“Congratulations?” you chuckle, and he laughs, realizing how out of pocket this has been.

“Sorry, that was pretty random,” he apologizes. 

“No, it's fine. I'm glad you did,” you say, and he glances at you, making you ramble on quickly. “I mean, it's the right thing to do. Did you settle on anything? Does she demand stuff?”

“If she doesn't want my legal team to be less nice about the reason we're getting a divorce than I was, then she won't,” he tells you and sighs softly. “She has the old house, and I don't have to pay her anything. I'm glad when we're done with the whole process,” he admits tiredly. 

“I bet you are,” you nod gently. “You deserve some peace after everything,” you say, and he hums softly, pressing his lips together briefly. “We can stop talking about it,” you assure him gently, and Felix nods thankfully. 

“We need more paint,” he states. 

“Well, we should let this dry anyway for today,” you nod and flash him a gentle smile. “We could go buy some more and then call it a day?”

“Sounds good,” he nods, rubbing his face tiredly, and turns toward you fully now. 

“You've got some paint on your cheek,” you say, and he blindly reaches out to wipe it off. He doesn't quite get it and you step in front of him, reaching out for him. “Let me help,” you say and gently rub your thumb over his cheek, wiping the still fresh paint off. 

Felix freezes in place, staring at you as you do so. He feels like the world stops for a moment but then your soft touch is already gone again. He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in and follows you outside. Fucks sake. 

-

You wander through the store next to him and you end up buying some more stuff to decorate the house a little more. Felix's phone rings and you can tell it's Chan by the way his face lights up. He nudges your side after a moment. “You're hungry?”

“I could eat,” you nod.

“Min and Chan ask if we wanna stop by,” he tells you, and you shrug your shoulders. 

“Sure, why not?” 

Only shortly after, you reach their house, and your eyes widen, spotting the two small kittens on the carpet. “Oh, you have new ones?” you ask excitedly and Minho looks at you as if he's going to hit you. 

“Or not?” you ask, chuckling. 

Chan gently pokes his cheek and grins at you. “Yeah, we got them like a week ago,” he nods, and you crouch down as they make their way over. 

“Can I hold them?” you ask, looking at Minho, and his face softens. 

“If they let you,” he nods and tells you to sit down on the floor. 

He picks up the first one and gently hands it over to you, making sure you hold it right. “He's usually very calm, so if you don't move too quickly, you should be fine,” he tells you and sits down, grabbing the second one. “She's a little rascal,” he smirks and gently scratches her head. 

“They're so tiny,” you say, amazed. 

“Here, he loves those,” Chan says, handing you a little treat. 

You hold out your hand for the kitten, and he doesn't waste much time. You giggle at his tiny tongue licking over your palm and beam at Minho excitedly. Chan passes Minho and gently runs his hand through his hair mindlessly. Minho smiles softly and looks up at him so full of love you can't help but wish you'd find someone you shared the same type of deep love with. “Wanna help me set the table, Lix?” he asks, and Felix hums, following him, not after a quick glance in your direction to make sure you're alright. 

Soon after, you're all gathered around the table, and you all thank Minho for cooking. Chan glances at Felix after a while and seems to debate whether he should ask what's going through his head. “Lix?” he asks, and his friend turns toward him. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm fine,” he smiles tiredly, and you know the question starts to bother him by now. 

“You said that from day one,” Minho chuckles and tilts his head at him. 

“No, I am. I signed the papers yesterday and then soon it'll all be over,” he explains. 

“Have you met anyone new?” Minho asks curiously. “I mean, it's been almost two months.”

“Mhm, after ten years of a fake marriage. I still have time, don't you think?” he asks sourly. 

Chan steps in, trying to ease the mood. “We're just worried about you getting lonely, Lix,” he tells him. 

“I'd rather be lonely than that,” he says and rolls his eyes at them. “Not everyone finds the one and lives happily ever after from day one on,” he says, looking at the two of them. 

“That's hardly realistic, nothing was perfect from day one,” Minho shakes his head. 

“Not really, no,” Chan snorts and winks at him. 

“Well, you're not me, so…,” Felix says quietly, and the mood changes. 

“Meaning?” Minho asks patiently, even though you can tell he’d rather punch some sense into him.

Felix puts down his chopsticks and sighs heavily. “I'm way too emotional, I'm too shy to approach anyone or initiate anything further, I mess up stuff constantly and-.”

“Will you stop?” you cut him off, and everyone looks at you as if they're remembering you're still here. “You keep on talking shit about yourself, and you don't even realize you're letting her win.”

“I'm not letting her—” he frowns. Chan is about to speak up, but Minho stops him, resting his hand on his. 

“Yes, you are. She used you for years, and you're still letting her by making it all your fault. As if she had no other choice but to go off and fuck around with whoever she found moderately fuckable,” you say, and he blinks at you, stunned as Chan chokes on his breath. “You're talented at what you do, you're hardworking, and you're one of the most caring people I know. You didn't have to, but you always made me feel at home when I visited your daughter. You haven't done any differently since I moved in, and as long as you aren't talking shit about yourself, you're pretty funny. And-.”

“Y/nnie,” he says softly, and it's the first time he's called you that. “Eat up; it's going to get cold.” 

You quickly shut your mouth, ears burning up as you realize you've just been pretty open in front of Minho and Chan. “Yeah, okay, you better shut up then…respectfully.”

“Message received,” he smiles gently. 

Minho raises his eyebrows and glances at Chan before moving his eyes between the two of you. Chan frowns before his eyes widen, and he squints at him. Minho widens his eyes and puts on a little passive aggressively encouraging smile, signaling him that, yes, he is VERY right about this. 

“You can stop the eye fuckery over there, I'll get sick,” Felix calls them out, and you frown softly at Minho's mischievous grin. 

“Y/n, what about you?” Minho asks curiously. 

“You're playing cupid as a side business, or what is this?” you ask right back. 

“Simply interested,” he gives back. 

“I'm single if you must know so badly, and no, my self-esteem isn't drowning as much as Lix’s,” you say, and Felix pokes your side, protesting softly. 

Chan watches you quietly before glancing at his husband and humming softly. Minho simply smirks. 

Later, when it's time to leave, you hold your hand out for Felix, and he tilts his head at you questioningly. “Keys, please,” you smile. 

“Huh?” he asks, amused. 

“You had two drinks, I didn't have any, and I'm driving,” you tell him, stretching your hand out once more. 

“Listen to her, Yongbokie,” Minho tells him, and Felix gives in and hands you the keys. 

-

“That was really sweet,” Felix says, almost too quiet to hear. 

“The kittens?” you giggle. 

“Mhm, yeah, they too,” he nods and glances over at you. “I meant what you said…I uh... thanks.”

“Oh,” you nod and feel your heart warming at the softness in his eyes. “I meant it.”

“I know,” he whispers and can barely meet your eyes. 

“You should give yourself more credit. Try seeing yourself through the eyes of the people you mean something to from time to time,” you say, parking the car in front of the house. 

Felix looks at you, a little stunned. “I mean something to you?” he asks softly. 

“Well, of course you do, Lixie,” you smile and lean over, brushing his hair back for him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes traveling down to your lips before he can fight it. 

“Mhm,” you hum softly and search his eyes. Suddenly, you move forward and your lips meet in a soft kiss that has him melting in his seat. He reaches up to bury his hand into your hair and-.

“Felix? Felix, wake up,” you say gently. 

“Huh?” he asks confused. 

“Wake up, Lix, come on,” you say softly, daring to brush a loose strand from his face. “Come on, let's get you upstairs.”

Felix blinks at you drowsily and needs a moment to realize he's been dreaming—dreaming of kissing you. His face burns up red with embarrassment as your gentle eyes meet his, and he shoots out of his seat. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammers, and you watch him a little confused. 

“You're okay?” you ask, closing the door for him.

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” he asks, laughing nervously. Don't look at the lips. Don't. 

“Man, you're weird when you get woken up,” you shake your head and unlock the front door, letting him in. Felix stumbles taking off his shoes, making you laugh. “Is alcohol having such an effect on you?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he lies, spotting his lifeline. 

“Well, let's get you to bed then,” you say and gently pat his back, shoving him inside. 

“I'll make it on my own, thank you,” he quickly says and wishes you a good night. He throws himself face forward onto his bed and groans into his blanket. “Fuck, no, Lix, you can't.” He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, brushing his fingers over his lips. Groaning softly, he fumbles for his phone; he needs some clarity now. 

“It's late, what the fuck, mate?”

“Jisungie, I fucked up,” Felix whines softly. 

“Oh, please don't tell me you're drunk,” Jisung sighs softly. “Do I have to pick you up somewhere?”

“No,” he quickly assures him. “I just…there's this certain someone I can't stop thinking about, and…Ji, it's wrong!”

“I don't like the sound of this,” he states calmly. “Go on.”

And Felix does, spilling all his hurt, feelings of emptiness, and worthlessness. Telling him how you mend his heart, fill his entire being with happiness, and make him feel loveable. He confesses how he can't stop thinking about you, worrying how messed up this could get. 

Jisung lets him ramble on and nods gently once he's done. “That's fucked up, mate.”

“I know,” he whispers. 

“No, I don't think you know how bad that bitch fucked you up,” Jisung says, and Felix is too stunned to speak for a second. “Fucks sake, Lix! Where's my pretty boy getting all the girls, huh? When did you get all shy and scared? Did she fuck up your self-esteem that badly?”

“Ji, you're missing the point here,” he insists. “Everyone would think I'm using her, she's eight years younger. They'll make her a victim and-.”

“Lix,” he cuts him off firmly. “I'm that victim you're describing here, you do know that, right? My hubby is ten years older, Hyune’s wife is six years younger, and no one gives a fuck,” he tells him. “The thing you really can't take is the fact that she's your daughter's best friend.”

“That surely doesn't help,” he groans. 

“Well, technically-.”

“She's my daughter, you can try and twist this how you want,” he shakes his head. “And she'll hate me if I act upon my feelings for Y/n.”

“All she wanted was for you to be happy. Why not with Y/nnie?” he asks gently. “Listen, buddy, you gotta figure out what you really want and then act accordingly. Stop sending her signals if you don't want this to evolve into something more.”

“I know,” he sighs softly. Fuck. 

-

“Can you get the eggs?” you ask him as you pour some sugar into a bowl, weighing its content as you do. 

“Sure,” Felix nods and his hand rests on your lower back for a brief moment, notifying you of him standing behind you to stop you from bumping into him. 

You swallow softly at the lingering touch, and it's already gone again before you can't think much of it. Felix got home from the studio about an hour ago, and you two decided to surprise your best friend with a cake for her birthday tomorrow. At least she had planned to come back again for it. After quickly buying the ingredients, you two got busy in the kitchen. He's unusually clumsy, your hands brushed against each other four times already since you've started and you already bumped heads, both wanting to grab something off the floor he dropped. The brief touches and his soft eyes combined with that shy smile are slowly driving you insane. 

Once you're all done you put it in the oven and set a timer, cleaning up the kitchen for now. You'll still need a few things for the icing later but you get rid of most of the mess for now. After loading the dishwasher, the 25 minutes are over, and Felix carefully takes it out. You leave it there to cool and throw yourself on the sofa. 

Felix joins you and turns on the TV, putting on the next episode of the series you've recently started watching together. After a while, your head slowly drops onto his shoulder and it takes him a moment to realize you fell asleep. He cautiously wraps his arm around you to make you more comfortable and lets you rest against his chest. He tries not to think too much of it and chews on his lower lip nervously as he tries to pay attention to the screen. 

As much as he tries to fight it, he's exhausted from their intense practice today, and his eyes grow heavier with every minute. It doesn't take long and he falls asleep as well, getting more comfortable and dragging you down with him in his sleep. 

You wake up in his arms, your head resting on his chest. Your eyes widen in shock, and you fight the urge to jump up and get as far away from him as possible. You barely dare to lift your head. Glancing down at him, your heart skips a beat at how soft and vulnerable he looks in his sleep. His chest is slowly rising and falling, his hair hangs into his face and he looks so soft it makes you want to squish his cheeks. You admire the beautiful freckles painting his face as the fading sun caresses his golden skin. Gosh, he's pretty. 

He moves in his sleep, tightening his grip around you and rolling you both onto your sides. Burying his face in your neck, he lets out a content sigh and pulls you in close. You bite your lip and curse yourself for wanting this so badly. You should really wake him up…but you couldn't. Not when he had a long day and finally got some rest. Not when he looked this content and peaceful. You couldn't. 

You timidly rest your chin on his fluffy hair and wait for a moment, but he doesn't seem to mind. Carefully, you fondle his back and rest your hand between his shoulder blades. He doesn't stir one bit, and you decide to try sleeping some more as well. 

-

You wake up again when he stretches in your arms, pulling back with a soft groan. Felix squints at you drowsily before he slowly picks up on your current situation. A blush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks and ears. He pulls away and rolls onto his back with a soft sound, rubbing his face tiredly. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“For what?” you ask gently. 

“Uh…this,” he awkwardly gestures between the two of you. “I uh…I tend to get cuddly when I fall asleep. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or-.”

“You didn't,” you say firmly, and he slowly glances at you. 

“No?” he asks quietly. 

“Not at all,” you assure him, and he hums gently in response. “You seemed like you needed it, so I let you sleep a little longer.”

“Oh,” he nods dumbly and searches your eyes timidly. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him. “I think we can finish the cake by now.”

“Probably,” he laughs and sits up. 

The pair of you soon gets busy in the kitchen again and Felix turns on the mixer to finish the icing for the cake. It's a little too fast, and some of it lands on his sweater. “Fucks sake,” he curses softly before slowing it down. 

You laugh at him, and he turns to you, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, you got some on your face,” you giggle and step in front of him. You cup his face gently with one hand, rubbing your other thumb across the icing on his forehead. “Keep still, Lixie,” you say and don't quite notice his lips parting at the new nickname. You move further down, wiping the bits on his cheek off, and only then you meet his eyes. They're wide and filled with thousands of questions and insecurities. “You're okay?” you ask worriedly. 

Felix blinks at you before very slowly shaking his head. “I'm not okay,” he says, and you turn off the mixer, bathing the room in silence. 

“What's wrong?” you ask and want to pull your hand off his face, but his hand wraps around your wrist keeping you there. 

“I…,” he trails off, sinking deeper into your eyes, and you can see the sudden longing in them. It's pure and innocent, making you all dizzy the longer you look at him. “You're driving me nuts,” he confesses. 

“Breathe,” you tell him before experimentally brushing your thumb over his lips. He exhales shuddery, eyes fluttering close at your touch. “Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

“What?” he squeaks, eyes snapping back open. 

“You heard me,” you say and tilt your head at him. “Can I?” Felix gulps before nodding timidly. You close the distance between the two of you, and your lips brush against his. A soft, quiet sound escapes him and then you're cupping his face and kissing him. Felix melts into the kiss, body searching yours as he grips your waist and stumbles a little, shoving you against the kitchen counter. He pulls back only to catch his breath and presses his forehead against yours. “You're okay?” you ask again. This time, he nods. 

“Yeah,” he whispers with a soft smile. “I'm okay...”

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaa-sia @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits @mellhwang @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa

#stray kids #skz #felix #lee felix #felix fic #felix fluff #felix angst #felix x reader #felix fanfic #lee felix fic #lee felix fanfic #lee felix x reader #lee felix fluff #lee felix angst #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader

[pandoraslxna]

hello! i’m literally terrible at requesting things lol, but i thought i would ask if you would be doing another part to Stepbrother AU? i absolutely love the way you write neteyam. maybe some sweet and soft smut?

Sweet dreams

adult stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.5k

Summary: It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (= they’re not related by blood), fluff, praise kink, p in v, soft sex, semi-public, biting

Notes: adult Neteyam art was made by @cinetrix 🩵

Translation:

syulang = flower

It’s date night.

Date night means, his parents will be away for the night. And that means, all responsibilities fall to him.

So Neteyam makes sure everyone’s fed, goes to hunt, skins the yerik with Lo‘ak and let’s Kiri help prepare the meat, while you’re out to give Tuk a much needed bath after playing in the dirt all day.

They all eat together, while mum and dad are out somewhere flying on their ikrans or swimming in a river, spending some much needed time away from their kids, even though half of them are grown already and can take care of themselves. These days, date night is more than a ritual that they decided to keep from the early years of their mating, than a day spent away from the rest of the family. The kids aren’t really kids anymore, they don’t fight like they used to, they don’t ask too many questions that make Jakes hairline thin out and they don’t stick to Neytiri like leeches anymore.

Except for little Tuk of course, because Tuk will most likely forever keep the status of the Sully’s baby, probably even when she has kids on her own.

Lo‘ak has grown too, but he’s still Lo‘ak. Has always been him and will never change the way he is. Unless Tsireya comes over– great mother help him, suddenly he’s someone Neteyam has never seen before and it makes him physically cringe. But who is he to judge and apparently the chiefs daughter seems to be into that 'oh my voice is naturally low and raspy and I definitely don’t deepen it just to impress you' type of thing.

Kiri is, well, she’s never been one to talk much, but since she’s reached the end of her what dad calls puberty and mother calls "a test to her mental strength" her head seems to be even more up in the clouds than it was before.

Neteyam himself has long reached that age where he would like to experience these domestic moments with his own little family, living in his own marui. But he can’t seem to peel himself away from here, from home. Not when everything he yearns for is right here.

Which brings us to you.

His pretty little syulang, the flower of his life, that grew roots so deep in his heart that they took up all the space and left no room for anything or anyone else, since the day his parents had decided to take you in.

Admittedly, it took Neteyam longer than he thought it would, to realize that the way he looked at you was different from the way he looked at his other siblings. He’s always been protective by nature, takes care of those who are dear to him. But not once had he felt the same kind of jealousy when Spider or Rotxo or whoever talked to his sister Kiri, than when boys came to talk to you. When it came to you, things were different.

Neteyam himself had started fooling around with girls his age relatively young. Kissing and touching, before he turned eighteen and realized how easy it is to get them on their hands and knees just for being the next olo’eyktan.

But when you came along, things took a sharp turn. Suddenly, those girls made him feel icky. Suddenly, he had never wanted to touch anybody as much as he wanted to touch you. But he knew that such a thing was out of the question, though, so he never tried to act upon his forbidden desires.

It was you, surprisingly, who came to him first. Crossing all lines of what Neteyam thought was considered right or wrong, just for you to confess a love that goes beyond what step siblings should feel for each other.

Anyways.

Date night means, all responsibilities fall to him. And while it’s usually dad that has trouble sleeping, that stays up until eywa know when, sitting in the space that’s reserved for crafting and such things to clean his assault rifle, it’s Neteyam who sits in this place tonight. Like being away for a night ultimately means that not being able to sleep is now his burden too.

Neteyam doesn’t know the reason to his. His stomach is full and he’s happy and content, should probably sleep like a baby. But he just can’t bring himself to rest.

He hears Lo’aks snoring pick up in the other room, and it makes him chuckle lightheartedly. He‘ll keep Tsireya in his prayers, once the two of them have finally mated and will share their own marui. Eywa help her find some sleep, once this snoring palulukan lays under her roof.

Neteyam smiles to himself. His fingers slowly grow tired as they move a woven thread back and forth, then through a pearl, tying a knot and repeat. At least some part of him feels the need to rest.

While his parents date night generally means that there will be more duties than usual in his daily routine, it also means that there is no one up in the middle of the night or in the early morning hours, giving him time and peace to be lost in his thoughts. And those thoughts roam around a certain someone, more than usual even.

Because date night also means, spending time with his precious syulang is now less risky than it is on any other day or any other night.

Quietly, Neteyam tips his head back to glance into the other room. He can vaguely make out your sleeping silhouette in the dark, laying in your hammock. Like a magnet to metal, he feels himself drawn to you, so he allows his body to move without his brain having much say in this.

Everyone‘s asleep and his parents aren’t there and it just feels good to act upon his desires without double questioning everything, wondering what fleeting touches he could allow himself without being looked at weird or having to find excuses to go to the forest together for at least some alone time.

The hammock dips, and then a warm body settles to lay behind you, curling around your smaller frame like you’re two fitting pieces of the same puzzle.

A soft sigh leaves your parted lips and Neteyam can’t help but press a kiss to the nape of your neck. His breath tickles your skin, and then you stir awake with a yawn.

"Teyam?", you murmur sleepily, glancing over your shoulder to be met with two half lidded, golden orbs staring back at you.

"M‘sorry, syulang", he whispers against the shell of your ear before pressing another kiss to your cheek. "Didn’t mean to wake you."

You mumble something incoherent that he can’t quite pick up, but then you’re stretching and your tail instinctively curls around his, and Neteyam knows you probably didn’t mean to– but your back arches into him, ass pressing against his crotch, and suddenly you’re not the one only stirring awake.

"Hmm, but since you’re already up, we could…", the words are muffled into the crook of your neck, followed by more, open mouthed kisses against your skin.

"Teyam", you giggle quietly, squirming when he nips at the lobe of your ear, "stop it."

Instead of listening, his arms close tighter around your middle, pulling your back closer to his chest. His hands skim over the bare skin of your stomach, over your thighs, your waist.

"You’re so warm", he mumbles, with both of his hands now sandwiched between your soft thighs. It makes you dizzy, the way he presses himself against you, how his hands can’t seem to stay still for even a second, roaming your body to caress and squeeze and grab whatever they can reach. Your breath hitches in your throat once you feel his fingertips brush the outline of your loincloth, following the cords between your thighs, hands cupping your cunt.

"T-The others", you finally find your voice again. Swallowing thickly, you whisper, "Lo’ak and Kiri, they will–"

But Neteyam is quick to cut you off, "The others are sleeping…" Another open mouthed kiss to your throat, tongue licking along your pulse point. "And I missed you. A lot."

It doesn’t seem like he was leaving you much room to argue, especially not, because his hands then dip past the waistband of your loincloth.

"I was with you the whole day", a smile pulls at your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his teasing fingers.

"Hmh, and I still missed my baby sister", he hums, "Missed kissing you… touching you…"

A gasp tumbles from your parted lips when one of his digits slides into you with ease, curling up where he knows it feels best for you.

"Always so wet for me", Neteyam whispers, "My perfect girl."

His breath is hot and damp against the skin of your neck, and he nudges his now fully hard cock against the small of your back and waits for the sign that tells him you feel the same want he does.

Neteyam can’t help but nuzzle up against the crook of your neck again, trace the edge of your ear with nose and lips, because he can never get enough of the way that sends a shiver through your body. Through his own body too, and then he presses the smallest, quietest kisses to your ear until you shivers again.

Neteyam is so close to you, that he can sense and know he caused the tremble in your limbs and breath.

Those small, trembling movements are what does it for him, the way you nudge your sleep-warm body against him, the arch of your back against his chest and crotch, the scrabble of delicate fingers as they fumble against his arm, looking for purchase, the brush of your soft hair against his cheek and the taste of your skin at the flick of his tongue against your throat, neck and shoulder.

"Teyaaam", you whine quietly, two of his slick fingers now scissoring you open and you writhe and squirm, pushing back harder against his cock in need.

This time, the shiver runs through him first and you gasp once, the sound quiet and sharp.

Neteyam knows that sound. Knows that means he could fit your bodies together even better, press himself inside you now. So naturally, that’s what he does.

It’s a clumsy mess of tangled limps, soft giggles and fleeting kisses before he manages to wriggle you and then himself free from any clothes. He keeps you flush against him, back pressed against his chest, angles your leg up and holds you open with a hand to the backside of your knee.

Neteyam slides into you easily. The stretch is familiar, good and pleasant, and you moan once he’s filled you entirely.

"Shh, I know", he coos softly, "but you have to be quiet for me, yes? Don’t want to wake the others, don’t you?"

You nod, then his hips move almost on instinct, back and then pushing forwards, thrusting into you. It’s slow and languid, with muffled groans pressed against your skin.

Neteyam wants it to last. Wants to stay like this forever, soft touches and warmth and the fond familiarity of your skin under his fingertips. But he can't resist that voice. Can't resist that desperate, pleading tone.

"P-Please Neteyam", you whimper softly, pushing back against him, "more, please. More, I want to come!"

He pushes forward, just that little bit harder, then shifts to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you when you’re unable to contain those little noises of pleasure.

"You feel so good, syulang, so good."

The slow drag of his shaft against your warm, wet and velvety-like walls makes Neteyams tail curl in enjoyment, and his eyes flutter close as he lets himself drown in the feeling of you. His teeth are clenched shut, biting down on his lower lip, because he was just as close to moaning out loud as you were.

But then you’re clamping down, hard, when his tip nudges against that special spot inside you and– just a little faster, his thrusts become just a tad harder, deeper.

There’s drool covering the inside of his hand, where he’s trying to keep your mouth shut, tongue lapping at his palm so he switches position, sticks two of his fingers into your mouth instead for you to suck on.

You’re so wet around him, wet around his fingers too now, sucking as eager as you would on his cock and the low groan that bubbles up his throat is almost too loud. Almost.

But Neteyam catches his breath quickly, busying his mouth with your throat instead, sucking and kissing and biting, never hard enough to leave any marks, but enough to keep himself from making too much noise.

Meanwhile your tongue swirls around his digits and he pushes them further in whenever he slides his cock out of you, then out when he thrusts forwards. It’s a constant rhythm, leaving you moaning around his fingers and squeezing around his cock.

Slow and steady, he repeats the words like a mantra, trying to calm himself. But his thrusts become deeper, harder as well. They knock the breath out of your lungs, little whimpers reaching his ears, until Neteyam has to cover you mouth again with a warning grunt.

All it would take was for Lo‘ak to wake and get water, and then he would hear the obvious, he would hear the faint squelching noises coming from the other room, would hear your little whimpers and pleas.

Neteyam wanted this to last, he really did. But the thrill of getting caught was a dangerous mix to the absolute heavenly feeling of your pussy convulsing around his length as you came. The soft squeak that you gave, the way that your legs trembled and your eyes rolled back, it was all that was needed to push him over the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, syulang, baby. I‘m– I‘m gonna come", he forces out, as quietly as possible. The hand over your mouth clamped down harder, like a warning before he started to thrust into you faster, barely able to contain himself anymore.

Just a few especially deep strokes were needed, and Neteyam felt his body and every last nerve in it fill with pleasure, before he came with a grunt, biting his tongue and pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

Taking his time, Neteyam lets his body come down slowly. He’s still pressing himself into you gently, continues to move a little, thrusting, and enjoys the slippery sensations this engenders. Traces kisses over your skin and tastes salt and sweetness on his tongue while he listens to the way your breathing slowly evens out.

A tender, "I love you", is whispered against the shell of your ear. Your response comes a little slurred, voice laced with sleep and barely incoherent, but it doesn’t really matter to him. There’s a smile on your lips as you fall back asleep, satisfied and content.

And finally, sleep tugs on his tired eyelids.

Neteyam suspects, as he drifts of to sleep, that in an hour or so, for the second time that day, he'll be the first to wake. He’ll have to get up and move to his own hammock, fall back asleep there, or not. And he’ll miss you again, from afar. Until date night comes around again.

#tw: aged up #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #atwow neteyam #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x sister!reader #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

[ystrike1]

MY SWEET BUNNY CAGE - By Uruu akua (8.5/10)

I think more popular ASMR CD's should get comic releases. Specifically high quality comic releases. Sometimes yandere comics aren't worth buying, and that's the awful truth. Awkward art styles. Bad endings. The genre is still full of "passable" content. This is the whole package. A good CD and a good comic with great art. Very worth collecting.

Our heroine is a spunky brat. A petite woman that doesn't get taken seriously at work. Everybody dotes on her, because she looks so young. She's frustrated by it. She hates it. She's a fully grown adult with a good career. She thinks her kindly coworkers are very annoying.

They tell her she shouldn't walk alone at night, because she's an obvious target for pervs.

She doesn't listen.

She argues with a weird guy that seems drunk, or even mentally ill, confidently.

She can take care of herself.

She wakes up in a degrading, frilly outfit. Her room looks like a castle fit for a princess. Her hair has been expertly done and her handcuffs are frilly lace bands.

The weirdo from before has kidnapped her.

She doesn't know him.

He's not secretly her childhood friend.

He's nuts.

She protests pretty hard. Crazy guy is rude, presumptuous, handsome....and unbothered. He seems to think he's above the law. Possibly because he's rich. Custom BDSM gear is expensive. The crystal chandeliers everywhere are a dead giveaway too.

He's not crazy and stupid.

He has a plan.

He tries to explain. She looks like his old pet. That's why he took her. He totally didn't plan ahead. Ignore the tailored outfits. He's totally not using the rabbit thing as an excuse to take her specifically. He totally didn't wait until she was alone at night. He doesn’t exactly hide it. The rabbit excuse is full of creepy layers. In his twisted head it somehow justifies his stalking and the kidnapping, and his overall ownership of her.

Her catty attitude makes him fall even further. It kind of saves her, I think. Before he wasn't interested in her real name. He was just going to give her his rabbits name. When she lashes out at him he asks for her real name, which could indicate that he started following her purely because she is his type looks wise.

She continues to resist, so he cuts up her cards. He takes her phone. He destroys her things in front of her. He doesn’t care if she's bored. He wants his new pet to wait for him. To like his company....because life is boring and theres nothing else to do.

Gags, ropes, chains, threats. Kesedo isn't gentle all the time. Rabbit is convinced that he will kill her if she doesn't cooperate.

He just wants affection though. Really bad. He tries to buy her love with sweetness just as often. His logic is very twisted, but again I like his arrogance. He behaves as if winning is natural for him, and Rabbit is just throwing a tantrum because she's hungry.

She attacks.

He likes that too.

His character design is fun as well. This is in a modern setting. His frilly sense of style actually indicates he's a fan of Lolita fashion and cute things. It's not JUST a standard prince outfit. It's a preference.

Also, this story is getting an extension, and I trust it will get better.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #MY SWEET BUNNY CAGE #lolita fashion

[lovingjingyuan]

Hey, it’s me again. I want request Sunday with Foxian reader this time, please.

Sunday met reader when he was still a child, and he promised that when he grow up, he will marry Foxian reader.

Reader being old lady, just chuckle and accept it. Thinking that he’s joking, which he doesn’t.

P/s: Foxian reader is 200 years old when she met child Sunday.

Sunday name is --- cause we don't his name. I'll update it if we find out

I wanna make Masterlist but I'm lazy

Sunday x Foxian Reader

𓆪♡𓆩 - Sunday 𓆪(´◡`)𓆩

After two centuries in life you have secured an office desk position in the Sky-Faring Commission. It was assumed to be an impressive standard as being 200 years old and earning a position in the commission wasn’t exactly easy. By most Xianzhou standards, you were still quite young for a position in a commission such as the Sky-Farring.

Yukong had announced that day that a class of elementary students from Penacony would be visiting the Luofu on a field trip to observe and explore the different types of planetary governments. With the recent surge of traffic and reckless driving, the workload has become too much of a pain, causing you to ditch the responsibility to tour guide these kids around.

“Miss?” a soft voice interrupted your train of thought, followed by a soft gentle touch on your tail. Turning around you spot a kid who's clearly not a Xianzhou local, hugging your soft tail and stroking it as if it were a pet. “I can’t find my sister.”

His eyes reflected with worry while explaining that he was separated from the group when he promised to retrieve his sister’s stuffed bunny. You knelt down to his level and looked at him in the eyes expressing a deep sense of worry.

“They’re with Madam Yukong… Do you know her by any chance?” You carefully brush your tail away from his hands seemingly disappointed as you do so.

“I heard of her only. Miss Foxian can you please help me find her?” The child pleading eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Those wings by his ears fluttered. How adorable! You only heard of Halovians but never in your two centuries of life have you seen one!

“Of course. What’s your name?” You questioned the child with a tenderful smile who could be no older than eight.

His eyes sparkled with the sweetest yet sheepish smile. He was not entirely comfortable around adults. “My name is —-,” he answered, his gaze lingering on top of your head with those soft fox ears and then towards your tail. Sunday could just imagine snuggling his small body against that cozy tail of yours! “Miss Foxian I’ve never seen your kind before if you don’t mind…” his voice trails off, his cheeks flustered, too embarrassed to finish his words.

You understood exactly what he meant! He wanted to pet you. You reassured him, “I’ve never seen a Halovian before. You are truly angelic and adorable!” You pinched his cheeks softly with a gleaming smile. You can if I get to touch those wings.”

His hands immediately lung forward towards your ears. His small soft hand wandered around your head and tail petting you down like a dog. “Foxian are truly gorgeous,” he remarked.

You couldn’t help but heave out a soft chuckle ruffling his head. Slowly, reaching your hands to his wings. You pitched them between your fingers. His gaze remains on you admiring your beauty. He knew right there you were his dream girl. Even if it might be a silly little childish crush you were too kind and gorgeous.

In the end you found out his elementary was on the whole other side of the Luofu. You couldn’t leave your station you had to remain here and work! You attempted to slove this by handing Sunday to the cloudknights so they can bring him back to the group. Yet whenever you bring Sunday towards them his small arms clung around your shoulders refusing to let you hand him over to them.

He would cry on your shoulders when you did. Maybe he was just shy as he claimed but truth to be told Sunday wanted to spend more time with you!

When he had to leave he was sobbing. It broke your warm big heart! His sister held Sunday’s hands trying to comfort him. It was a rare sight to see him cry according to his sister and classmate.

“Miss next time we meet! I promise we’ll get married!” Sunday delacred with a mix of sincerity and childish innocence. He wiped his tears before reluctantly getting escorted away by his teacher.

You chuckled at his pouting and whining being carried away by his teacher.

To you those words were nothing more than a childish promise. A broken promise that you will never remember. Would you even remember him? You know you could not defy the ethics of this universe. Long life species should never love a short life.

Many years later you've looked at your office desk. You managed to climb the rankings just slightly. A letter sitting innocently on your desk waiting to be opened.

An invitation from The Family? Surprised The Family will personally invite you. You thought they would invite someone like Fu Xuan or Jing Yuan but you? Was there a catch?

Nevertheless you gladly accept it because many with spend their savings to visit. You're visiting for free and you get a VIP room. Extra special VIP! And it was personally written by Representative Sunday. The man managing the festival! How nice. Do you even remember him? He felt like a distant memory.

You immediately step foot into Penacony from your private transportation provided from The Family. How generous The Family always treats their guests so well!

“Oh the important guest Mr. Sunday mentioned! It's an honor to meet an important guest of Mr. Sunday,” the receptionist charmed in with a gleeful smile.

You stood there confused. Did the Luofu Sky-Faring Commission have an important affairs you never knew of or an important meeting? You thought to yourself. You've only heard of Sunday and seen him in the news, yet you felt like you knew him before. Even if you did it be when he was a child.

“Someone will escort you right up ahead,” the receptionist spoke to you in such great manner.

Members from the Bloodhound escorted you with great caution. So much it intimidated you slightly. Suddenly they paused in their steps at a door. This was the hotel room? So different from the others.

You stepped inside once they told you to.

“Greetings Miss Foxian it's been a while,” a calm voice came in front of you. A man sitting on a chair leg crossed staring at the many TV screens flashing in front of him and you.

He stood up and turned facing towards you waiting for you to inch closer.

“Mr. Sunday? Is there something important we need to discuss?”

“No happy smile? Oh no this just can't do. You don't remember me don't you?” He stood towering over you. “Don't tell me you erased our special memories together. That promise.”

A frown replaced the calm smile. It was a custom for the Xianzhou to erase painful or parts of their memories to prevent Mara.

“Why those memories?” He whispered in your ears tenderly stroking your fluffy ears on your head. That touch felt familiar. He smiled again. Something about the smile was unsettling. “No worries The Family is experts when it comes to regaining lost memories.”

Memories came flashing in you. This was all confusing yet familiar. Too much you passed out. Sunday swiftly got hold of your body putting you in the dreamscape.

You opened your eyes. Your body felt weird almost like you were in a dream.

“How are you my little Fox?” He kissed your cheeks. He held you on his lap. His lips formed a smirk.

“See I kept my promise til the end,” his hands traced up your thighs keeping a firm grip on your waist.

He lifted you off his lap, setting you to sit on his fancy chair. He got on one knee eyeing you as he presented a ring in a white and golden box with a beautiful shiny diamond ring in the middle! The diamond ring has angel wings on it like his to show ownership towards you.

“Will you marry me my dear Fox?”

It was more of a demand than a question. Sunday wasn't the young boy you knew before. He always kept his words even if they were a childish dream. But he lived in a dream, the dreamscape so anything is possible.

He puts the cold ring on your ring finger, leaned in and kissed you lips. Sweet and short.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere sunday #yandere hsr Sunday x reader #sunday x reader

[kirishwima]

can this month. pass super quick please

#idc that summer will be ending and i havent even went to the beach yet #i just care that ill see my friends next month #my bestie will be here for a whole mONTH im so excited 😭😭 #and then my other two best friends are coming home for christmas so ill see them too #i miss the days wed all hang out together with 0 responsibilities #adult life hit me like a freight train and im just. so nostalgic #i miss getting drunk and getting into shit w my friends #and i really REALLY miss staying up till morning at the beach #then heading straight for breakfast and beer after that #i miss feeling young 😭 #k sentimental shit is over #ignore me i just miss my friends #i do have close friends where i live too and im p sociable #i just. will never have the kind of connection i got w my besties with anyone else #burrito talks #not fandom related #delete later

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Like A Lamb

**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**

John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.

Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.

He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.

John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.

The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.

How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?

John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.

With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.

The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.

He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.

~~~

Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.

“What do you think it is, Danny?”

He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.

“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”

For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.

The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.

That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.

Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.

“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”

“Adopted?”

“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”

Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.

“Why did he- what made him do that?”

Pandora ruffled his hair.

“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”

~~~

“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”

Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.

“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”

“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”

John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.

He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.

Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?

“Fine. What are the details?”

Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.

“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”

“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”

The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.

As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.

The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.

The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.

This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.

Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.

And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.

“Hi.”

The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.

“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”

Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”

“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”

Bless Diana.

“Can you leave the circle, young one?”

The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.

“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”

John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #john constantine #eldritch danny #dp x dc crossover #ghost king danny

[softieekayy]

Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.

Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.

“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.

“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”

“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.

Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.

“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.

“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.

“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.

“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.

He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.

“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.

The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.

“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.

“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.

Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.

Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.

“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.

“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.

“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.

“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.

“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.

“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.

“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.

“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.

“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.

“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.

“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.

“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.

“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.

“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.

Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3

#hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader fluff #hannibal fluff #Hannibal Lecter fluff #Hannibal Lecter one shot #hannibal lecter imagine

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, some mild angst, model jeno, journalist reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a jerk for some of it but for understandable reasons ❧ extra info: this is a reworked version of an old fic of mine that was about a former member. since i still really love the fic, i’ve made some (heavy) edits to re-release it about jeno instead. you can consider this the spiritual successor/an alternate universe to my sleepless cinderella series

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

You felt absolutely pathetic. You were a journalist at a rather popular magazine, and your editor had finally entrusted you with a centerfold spot. So far, your word document for your article had less than a handful of words: your name. Writer’s block, and with only two months until copies were supposed to hit the shelves.

And so here you were, sitting on the small couch in your boss’ office, trying not to sound like you were whining to her. But you needed some sort of guidance. Ms. Zhang was sat on the other end of the couch from you, legs crossed, and round frames perched on the end of her nose as she thoughtfully listened to your rant.

Her voice was casual as she simply replied with, “Anything new in your life, Y/N?”

Which was a complete non-sequitur from your desperate plea for a subject. She really just wanted to make small talk while you were having an existential crisis?

Stunned, you blinked for a moment before answering, “Uh, not much. My roommate made me go out to this party a while ago.”

“That’s nice. Did you have fun?”

You were still completely unsure of why she wasn’t addressing your issue, but went along with it, nonetheless, “I guess.”

“Meet anyone?”

“Kind of. Seven someones, technically.”

“Oh?”

Realizing how that sounded, you grimaced to yourself before giving your boss an explanation of the actual situation. Your roommate NingNing had dragged you to the grand opening of a new nightclub, which she got an invite to thanks to her huge social media following. She was possibly the only actually down-to-Earth influencer you’d ever met—and you’d met plenty, thanks to her. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, before you entered into completely different lives as adults. You had a 9 to 5 while she was being paid insane amounts of money by luxury brands just to post a single photo of herself with their product.

The nightclub of course had a VIP section at the back, which NingNing was easily given access to, as well as you, her plus-one. It was there that you were introduced to Mark Lee, an up and coming young actor with a practically cult following online; Huang Renjun, an extremely popular video game streamer and YouTuber; Lee Jeno, an actual supermodel whose visage was across some of the biggest billboards in the city; Haechan, a pop star that you didn’t dare address by anything other than his stage name; Na Jaemin, another streamer and YouTuber who had recently been picked up for a modeling contract; Zhong Chenle, heir to the Zhong family fortune, whose family was involved in anything and everything to do with the entertainment industry and owned the nightclub; and Park Jisung, an influencer more in the same vein as NingNing, with millions of Instagram followers. Apparently, you had made a good enough impression that Chenle gave you your own pass to the VIP lounge—NingNing of course had her own, too.

At the end of your story, Ms. Zhang had a worryingly knowing smile across her lips, “You met seven celebrities in one night?”

“Do influencers and streamers really count as celebrities?”

“You met seven very popular men—three or four of whom are certifiable celebrities—in one night, have access to a private lounge they all frequent, and you still don’t have a subject for your article?”

Your jaw may have dropped slightly as you realized this. Immediately, your face turned hot as you refused the idea, “I don’t want to exploit them and make them uncomfortable somewhere that’s supposed to be free from that kind of stuff.”

She frowned as she shook her head, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you understood that journalism isn’t inherently exploitative.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not—”

“Are you going to publish horrible rumors and tabloid things with private information they don’t want to be out there? Is that what we do here?”

“No, but they’re all going to think that’s what I’ll do.”

“Show them those assumptions are wrong. It’s all in the way you carry yourself. If you are honest and humble and make them feel comfortable, they should have no reason to doubt what kind of journalist you are.”

At this point, you felt like melting into the pinstriped couch cushions in shame. You shouldn’t have doubted your boss’ vision for her magazine or demeaned your own career. And now you’d made Ms. Zhang disappointed in you. You would’ve preferred her to have yelled at you.

All that was left was to make her proud.

Three days later and you still hadn’t returned to the lounge.

Honestly, you were just being a chicken. And a procrastinator. A procrastinating chicken.

Slumped into your armchair in your living room, you blankly zoned off into the distance as you listened to your playlist through an earbud. NingNing was perched on your kitchen table, feet swinging off the side as she edited some photos on her phone.

As she tapped away, you found your gaze fixating on the visage on the cover of a magazine that had been resting on your coffee table. Squinting your eyes curiously and tilting your head to the side, you asked, “He kind of looks like a dog, right?”

“Who?” Your roommate raised a concerned eyebrow as she peered over her phone screen at you.

“Lee Jeno.” You held up the magazine. “He kind of looks like a dog. Right?”

Your friend squinted at the cover then gave you that same look, “No, he doesn’t. Y/N, I think the sleep deprivation has finally gotten to you. You’re delirious.”

“No, I swear, he looks like a dog,” you insisted, pulling your earbud out to be able to better argue your point. “A very specific kind of dog, God, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“He doesn’t.”

You crossed your arms. “I bet the others would agree with me.”

“You want to go ask them?” She challenged. “Jisung texted me saying they were all going to be there again tonight.”

“If that’s what’ll convince you.”

“I have been begging you to go back for weeks, and now you’ve agreed to go back to ask them if they agree that Jeno looks like a dog?” NingNing scoffed incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, fine, you weirdo. Be ready to leave at midnight.”

When you arrived at the club, you immediately felt out of place again. You clung onto NingNing’s arm tightly as she confidently led the way through the crowd to the VIP lounge. She flashed a smile and her VIP pass to the bouncer outside the room, who nodded and stepped aside. As soon as the two of you entered the small room that consisted of one large rounded booth, you immediately regretted your decision. When NingNing said that everyone would be there, your brain hadn’t pieced together that ‘everyone’ included Lee Jeno, who perked up with interest as the two of you walked in.

Jeno eyed you curiously, an eyebrow raised, “So you came back.”

“Y/N has something really important to ask you guys,” NingNing announced, gesturing to you pointedly.

You felt like a deer in the headlights as all of them turned to look at you. Swallowing thickly, you avoided looking at Jeno as you tried to think of anything else to say.

“Sit down, let’s get you a drink first,” Jaemin kindly saved you, gesturing to the open space at the end of the booth seat.

NingNing sat down next to Mark, who had previously been at the end, and you scooted in after her. The circular table unfortunately made it so that you were looking directly at Jeno, who you couldn’t help but sneak glances at as your brain still stubbornly tried to remember what breed of dog he reminded you of. Another round was brought out for everyone, and you gratefully started sipping on yours.

It was when he smiled up at the waiter as he was handed his drink that it finally hit you. You had to bite down on your lip not to cry out in victory.

Chenle looked at you over his sunglasses—yes he was wearing sunglasses indoors at night, as he had been last time. He asked, “So what is this really important thing you have to ask us?”

You looked at NingNing desperately, but she just gave you a deliberate nod.

“Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fine.”

With a gulp, you gathered your courage to just fucking say it and get it over with. You still wanted to be right. “Okay, think about it really hard before you answer.”

They all nodded in assent, anticipating your question.

Taking a deep breath, you finally asked, “Doesn’t Jeno kind of look like a Samoyed?”

A couple of them seemed concerned for your mental state. The rest pondered your question whole-heartedly, brows furrowed as they studied the model. Jeno had a look of pure bewilderment on his face.

Finally, Haechan gasped, “Oh my God you’re right.”

“Thank you!” You sighed victoriously, looking over at NingNing smugly.

Jisung fervently searched something on his phone, eyes widening in shock, “Now that you’ve said that I can’t unsee it.”

“What? Let me see.” Chenle yanked the phone out of Jisung’s hand, holding a picture of a fluffy white Samoyed up to Jeno’s face.

The model tilted his head to the side in confusion, perfectly mimicking the picture on-screen. Chenle burst into loud, cackling laughter.

“Shit, he-he does!” Renjun declared between his own laughs.

Murmurs of agreement erupted around the table, and you were now fully vindicated. “Thank you! Thank you! NingNing didn’t agree with me so I had to come and—”

“No, I did,” she snickered. “It was just the only way to get you to come back. You’re a whole different person when you think you’re right.”

You tried to glare at her, but you were much too ecstatic at being proven right to really be all that mad.

Jeno looked about to open his mouth as Chenle giggled incessantly and started swiping through more search results of Samoyed pictures. A horrible sense of dread covered you like scalding candle wax. It was hot against your skin, thick, and you felt like you couldn’t move or breathe. You prayed to every deity you could think of that Jeno had a really good sense of humor and wouldn’t take offense to someone he had met twice saying he looked like a dog.

When Jeno’s gaze finally focused on you, you swore you had never wished to turn invisible more in your life than in that moment. Or make time stop. Or wake up and realize it was a dream. Anything to get you out of this situation. But you were absolutely petrified, all excitement from before completely eradicated from your being.

Then suddenly all tension was gone from the air as his eyes crinkled into crescents and his mouth parted wide to let out hearty guffaws.

You looked around in alarm, waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed or something. This couldn’t be real.

He managed to contain his laughter enough to choke out between chuckles, “That’s— that's really, really funny.”

Your wide eyes were focused incredulously on him as he caught his breath. Still with a grin on his face, he continued, “Oh my god, seriously that was fucking funny. I’m a cute Samoyed, right, Y/N?”

Utterly speechless. That’s what you were. And also staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I think you broke her, Jeno,” Renjun snickered, reaching a fist out as if he were about to knock on your forehead like a front door.

Instinctually, you smacked his hand away from your head, a scowl overtaking your features, “I’m fine, Renjun.”

“Then why can’t you look him in the eye?”

You pointed to yourself, “Normal person—” then to Jeno, “supermodel. I’m still not used to that.”

But Renjun was right, you couldn’t look Jeno in the eye, and your whole body was practically on fire. Honestly, how were you supposed to react to this situation? With grace and comfort? No way.

“What? Seriously?” Jeno scoffed, standing up from the booth to pointedly sit on your side of it. Directly next to you.

“I’m not that— Y/N, really? You’re actually scooting away from me?”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d shifted the opposite direction from him, pressed into NingNing’s side. Meanwhile, the others were all finding this spectacle absolutely hilarious, sharing annoying snickers and giggles.

Your face was burning, and despite your satisfaction at being vindicated, you were now regretting coming to the club at all.

“Can you guys stop? You don’t have to be so annoying,” Jeno scolded his friends, much to both yours and their surprise.

Haechan had a look of mild offense and disbelief across his face, “Being annoying comes as natural to us as being ridiculously attractive comes to you.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jaemin slapped Haechan’s arm as Chenle was practically howling with laughter.

While they were distracted among themselves, Jeno’s attention was focused back on you. If you could look him in the eye, you’d be able to appreciate the genuine concern held within them. But you couldn’t, so all you could do was hear the genuine concern in his voice as he said quietly, “Sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” you reassured him, messing with your fingernails.

“Anyway, I can’t stand having you be terrified of me.”

“I’ll get over it,” you cleared the audible squeak out of your throat, “eventually.”

“Eventually...” Jeno didn’t seem satisfied with that qualifier you added at the end. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm— I don’t know. Why?”

“We should hang out.”

“What?”

“The more you’re around me, the less scary I’m going to be to you. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Then we should start right now.”

Your throat nearly closed up at this suggestion. Especially because you realized that the room was dead silent. The others had ceased their squabbling and side conversations and were awaiting your response to this too.

So you did the thing that came most naturally to you: procrastinated the issue.

“Oh, well, it’s already after midnight—”

“Then tomorrow.”

“I’m going to be super busy for a while, I just got a really big assignment at work—”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a journalist. Just got centerfold and it’s going to make or break my whole career so it’s going to take up all of my time for the foreseeable future, so...”

Jeno was unfazed, “What’s the topic?”

“I-uh it’s...” you couldn’t even bullshit an answer at this point, your stupid tongue tripping over itself. “I don’t have one yet.”

NingNing just had to offer up her opinion right then, “Do it on Jeno!”

If you were a lesser person, you'd have strangled NingNing in that moment, because the model’s features lit up. He clearly liked this idea.

“Yeah! I would love to. If it’ll fit your guidelines or whatever, of course.”

You sighed, “It does...”

The socially anxious part of you absolutely hated this idea. But, the journalist part of you knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Gritting your teeth, you managed to look Lee Jeno dead in the eye and say, “I would love to interview you, Jeno. Thank you.”

“Uhm, Jeno?” Jisung speaking up stopped the wide grin that was spreading across his friend’s face. “Aren’t you like, banned from interviews or something?”

“Technically,” Jeno answered dismissively, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Technically?” You echoed in confusion. Were you just being messed with?

“Something… happened with the last in-depth interview I did a while ago,” he admitted sheepishly. “But! I’ll talk to my manager and get it cleared, I promise, Y/N!”

[jeno: manager han gave the okay for the interview! when can we get started?]

Your stomach contorted itself at the message that just popped up on your phone screen. Last night you’d left the lounge with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. And Jeno’s phone number.

[jeno: i have a fitting this afternoon but i'll be done in time to get dinner]

[jeno: if that works for you, of course]

[jeno: we can always start it another day, whatever is good for you!]

[jeno: do you want me to send you my schedule for the next few weeks to make it easier for us to get together?]

Your phone’s continuous buzzing with enthusiastic and sincerely kind messages from him caught the attention of NingNing, whose feet were currently resting on your lap as you shared your couch together.

“When did you get so popular?” She questioned teasingly, peering at you over her own phone screen.

“It's just one person,” you informed her.

“Who texts you that much in a row other than me?”

“Lee Jeno, apparently.”

“Y/N, you seem very unenthusiastic about this,” she declared with a thoughtful frown, completely abandoning her phone. “Isn’t this a really big break for you?”

“I’m still a little shocked,” you admitted. “And scared.”

She shoved you with her foot. “Well at least text him back.”

“Right.”

Not a great idea to leave him on read.

[you: a copy of your schedule would be great]

[you: and yes, i can do dinner tonight]

It was less than a minute later that he replied.

[jeno: here’s my schedule]

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: and could you give me your address so i can drive you to dinner tonight? the place i have in mind is kind of hard to find if you haven’t been before]

A lot was happening right now. Too much for you to process. Good thing there was another brain in this room to help you process it.

“Hey, NingNIng?” You got her attention before thrusting your phone screen towards her so she could read the texts.

“Uh, three options here.” She pointed to a new finger for each one as she listed them off: “He’s ridiculously excited about this interview; he likes you; or he’s going to kill you.”

“So far the last one seems most likely.”

With a shake of your head, you sent him your address.

Your fingers anxiously tapped along your bouncing knee as you waited on your couch for the text from Jeno that he was here. He told you that the restaurant was just casual, but you weren’t sure that a model’s idea of casual wear was the same as yours.

Jeez, what were you doing? Getting dinner with and interviewing one of the most well-known models in the country? You were so out of your depth here.

A buzz came from your other hand that was tightly gripping your phone. An incoming call from Jeno. Maybe he was calling to cancel, and you could just keep rescheduling until you both gave up on the whole idea and you never showed your face in that VIP lounge again.

Answering it, your voice squeaked as you attempted to give him a casual, “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The bright voice of Lee Jeno came through your speakers. “I’m just parking now, I’ll be up in a couple minutes.”

“You don’t have to come up!” You told him a little too forcefully and quickly. Having Lee Jeno in your apartment would just be too much.

“I don’t mind—”

You leapt up from your couch and rushed towards your door, “Too late, I’m already on my way down.”

With a sharp hit of your thumb, you hung up. Pressing the down button on the elevator impatiently, you prayed that Jeno would just give up and wait in his car.

He didn’t.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, with Jeno right outside them. In fact, you nearly slammed right into his chest, but thankfully he took a step back before you could actually collide.

His ‘woah!’ was muffled slightly by the dark face mask over his mouth, accompanying dark baseball somewhat successfully obscuring his identity. As long as you didn’t look too closely, he could be any other guy.

“I told you I’d just come down on my own.” You shook your head at him, eyes trained on your shoes.

“And I told you that I’d come up and get you,” he shot back smugly. “Seems like neither of us listen very well.”

With no response coming from you, Jeno took your silence as the cue to lead the way out to his car. It was nice, nicer than most cars you’d seen around, but surprisingly not that ostentatious. It looked like something a moderately successful businessman would drive, not an A-list model.

Inside was a comfortable leather interior, and you took quick, short notes on the small notepad you kept with you as you looked around. After all, this was an interview, and you had an article to write. You could get over your own social awkwardness and feelings of inferiority for the sake of your future career.

Hopefully.

The restaurant Jeno had chosen was definitely out-of-the way.

It was down one back alley into another, through the back of an electronics shop, up a flight of stairs, then through a room of old ladies sat at sewing machines. They all gave a friendly chorus of hellos to the two of you, seeming to know Jeno pretty well as they all told him that he’d grown since the last time he’d come by. He bowed to them bashfully as he led you through. Past the curtains on the far wall, you finally ended up at the restaurant.

Okay, out-of-the-way was an understatement.

But despite the hard-to-stumble-upon location of the restaurant, it seemed busy. The small room was tightly packed with tables that you could barely see through the mass of people seated around them and plates of food resting atop them. A loud buzz of various conversations mixed in with the bumping of plates and clattering of utensils.

Just past the entrance was a small host’s stand where a young boy stood. He looked to not be out of high school yet, presumably a young relative of the owners: their son, nephew, or grandson.

He also knew Jeno, bowing to him, “Ah, Mr. Lee. We have your reservation for you. Come.”

Jeno bowed back and looked to make sure that you were still following the two of them through the nearly claustrophobic environment.

You were, eyes drinking in every detail as your hand furiously scribbled them down on your notepad, muscle memory functioning at full speed to write every letter without looking away from the scene around you. There was one more curtain for you to go through, and it was much quieter on the other side. This was most likely a VIP section of sorts, with just a couple tables separated by a divider.

The host gestured to one of the two tables, and you gratefully sat down across from Jeno. He then took his hat and mask off, fingers working through his hair for a moment to rid it of the hat’s aftereffects.

“Thank you, Yeonwoo,” he thanked the host, which you repeated as well.

The boy, who you now knew to be named Yeonwoo, bowed politely to the both of you before scurrying off.

“You must come here often,” you commented, hand poised to write his response.

“My family and I came here a lot when I was younger. Since I started my career it’s been difficult to eat here as often as I did before. Especially because their food isn’t technically allowed in my diet,” he had a mischievous glint in his eye as then he added, “But you won’t tell on me, right?”

“Of course not, unless writing an article about you that will be published in a magazine counts as tattling,” you snorted, much to his delight.

He laughed, “Right, right. That’s pretty much the ultimate form of tattling, huh?”

“If it gets published, yeah. If not, then the only people who will know will be you, me, and my editor. And I suppose Yeonwoo and our server, as well.”

“Speaking of our server, there she is!” Jeno announced, making the young girl who was approaching your table blush behind her notepad. She was probably around Yeonwoo’s age, maybe a little older.

“Good evening,” she greeted the two of you politely. “My name is Jieun, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?”

You were a bit confused by her question, you hadn’t been given any menus yet. But Jeno seemed completely unfazed.

“Two orders of my regular, please,” he requested sweetly, which she quickly scribbled down on her pad.

“Of course, it’ll be out soon,” she informed you before hurrying away.

He turned back to you, “Jieun is Yeonwoo’s older cousin, their grandparents own the restaurant.”

You added this to your notes as well. It could be nice to add in to set the scene and show how down-to-Earth Jeno was, knowing this family as well as his own and not forgetting his roots even as a big model. Or something like that, you’d figure it out eventually.

“So, interview questions?” He prompted you, bringing you out of your contemplative planning ahead. You’d write that up later.

“Earlier you had mentioned your family, tell me a bit about them. Brothers, sisters?”

Could you have looked that information up online and found it? Definitely, but you wanted it from the source, to see if he would provide you with anything that wasn’t already out there. And you wanted to get a feel of your subject.

“Well there’s my parents, my older sister, and me. They’re not famous or anything. My parents own a grocery store nearby, and my sister’s a teacher.”

“You took my next question right out of my mouth,” you clicked your tongue in teasing disappointment, continuing on with a different one. “You said you used to come here often with your family, what are some other things you miss from your childhood that you don’t do as often?”

Jeno’s face easily betrayed his delighted surprise, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that one.”

“Hm?”

“That’s a good question. Normally I get asked about celebrity crushes or my ideal type.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously, “If you thought that I was just going to ask you the same questions you usually get asked, why did you offer for me to interview you?”

“Never mind, never mind, sorry.” He coughed awkwardly, then quickly went to get off that topic, “Uh, it might sound kind of weird, but I used to help out at my parents’ store a lot as a kid. It was my first job I ever had. As soon as I could reach the register on a high stool, they put me to work. It’s actually how I got scouted, for modeling. My manager now just happened to come through my line while I was on the register and gave me his card. I thought it was a scam, honestly. But Jaemin made me give him a call, and he turned out to be legit. Even if I had the time to help at the store now, I’d just be too much of a distraction if I tried. And trust me, I tried. Once. So yeah, I miss helping out there.”

The desire for an answer to your other question was still there, but it was a path that you didn’t want to go down right now. Right now was time for the interview. So you simply scratched down his statement about his parents’ shop, then shorthanded off to the side ‘why me?’ as you readied your next question.

“You knew Jaemin before you guys were famous?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.” A fond smile crossed Jeno’s face. “Seatmates since primary school. He blew up with streaming first before I got my break as a model, actually. Most people usually assume it’s the other way around.”

“And what about the others?”

As Jeno eagerly answered your questions and you filled up page after page on your notepad, there was still that one lingering in the back of your mind.

Why you?

Over the course of a couple weeks, you’d spent a considerable amount of time with Jeno. According to his schedule that he had sent you, every free moment he got was taken up by your interview. Sometimes it would be more formal, like your first dinner meeting, and sometimes it was more casual, get-togethers in the lounge with the other VIP members or a riverside walk that felt more like two friends talking than a professional interview. And it all went in your notes, it would all go in your article. This was going to be a great article. The real Lee Jeno when he’s relaxed, what he’s like off the runway.

Today was very special, however, as you’d been invited to tag along to one of his photoshoots. You were just outside the building housed at the address you’d been given when you were met by a young man whose stern gaze never left you. It seemed as if he had been waiting for you.

“Are you the journalist?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, completely skipping any greetings.

“Ah yes, Y/L/N Y/N,” you confirmed, nodding your head respectfully to him as you held out your VIP lounge card as proof. Jeno told you that would be your pass to get in.

The man only scrutinized the card for a moment before he pivoted on his heel, “Follow me.”

You kept his hurried pace easily, ready to ask him questions as well, “So what’s your job here?”

He took a moment to push open a door that then nearly closed on you before answering, “I’m Lee Jeno’s PA.”

“Oh, Song Eunseok!” The name easily came to your mind.

The PA’s eyes widened in surprise, “Jeno’s brought me up?”

“Of course he has! You’re with him pretty much all the time, how could he not mention you?” You flipped through your notebook to where you’d taken previous notes about him, “Here, I asked him to walk me through his typical day, and he mentioned ‘Seokkie’ like seven times.”

Eunseok physically grimaced at this, “I’ve requested that he not call me that.”

“Why? I think it’s a cute nickname.”

“Really?” His eyes were now trained on his shoes as opposed to his previous laser focus on the end of the hallway. Your eyes could’ve been playing tricks on you, but you swore the tips of his ears were tinged pink, too.

There was another door, and this time you definitely couldn’t miss the fact that he held it open for you this time.

“Really,” you echoed.

The door had led to what you could really only imagine to be the set. Huge lightboxes, a couple cameras, and a multitude of people all set up with a single black sheet as the focal point. A white loveseat contrasted it starkly, but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn. They were drawn to the man seated elegantly atop it, dressed head-to-toe like the playboy prince of a small but filthy rich country. Lee Jeno.

“You can wait for him over here with me,” Eunseok tapped your elbow with a feather-light touch, snapping you from your near-trance.

“Thanks.” You walked with him towards a table lined with various food and drink.

Your focus was still on the PA as he got a bottle of water, opened it, took a lemon slice from a small bowl and squeezed it into the drink before plopping a blue straw in as well. Then didn’t drink it. Instead, he turned back to you and held it in his hand patiently.

“The straw disturbs the makeup as little as possible,” Eunseok explained to you, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t for him, it was for Jeno. “Makes the makeup artists’ lives a little bit easier.”

“That’s very considerate. I wouldn’t have even thought of that,” you commented, taking note of that process as your focus returned back to Jeno and the photoshoot.

Knowing that your next question might be considered disrespectful, you leaned closer to Eunseok to whisper, “So who’s the photographer?”

He understood your delicacy, replying back equally quiet, “Chen Man, she’s brilliant. Jeno’s worked with her in the past, but this is his first solo shoot with her. It’s for the new YSL campaign that he was chosen to be the face of.”

And you were rocketed back to the fact that Lee Jeno was a famous model. Obviously, you hadn’t really forgotten it, but in your casual meetings and interviewing outside of his work, the magnitude of it was lessened. But a PA, giant photoshoot, famous photographer, and being selected as the new face of a campaign for a huge designer really hammered in the famous model part.

“Wow.”

It was just then that Chen Man called for a short break, and the silent studio was immediately filled with chatter. Jeno made a beeline for you and Eunseok, his normal contagious grin across his face, “Hey, Y/N! I’m glad you made it here okay.”

Up close, you could appreciate the detail and regality of his outfit. It was made of crushed velvet of a deep cerulean color; various intricate medals flashing on his chest; dark epaulettes making his already broad shoulders even more imposing; large black boots; and silver jewelry and chains glinting on his fingers and neck.

Eunseok offered the water out to Jeno then, and he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks, Eunseok.”

You continued from the model’s earlier statement, “Yeah, Eunseok made sure I got to the right place.”

“Good, I sent him out there to get you.” He turned on his PA, “You didn’t give Y/N a hard time, did you?”

“My job is to make sure none of your insane fans somehow get in here,” the other man scoffed.

“So you did give her a hard time.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes at Jeno’s teasing words. Despite knowing that they were employer-employee, it felt much more like two friends to you. You added that to your notes.

Jeno took a couple big sips of his water, and you took this time to ask him a couple of questions.

“So Eunseok was saying that this shoot is for the new YSL campaign that you’re the face of. Have you ever done something like this before?”

He blinked at you a couple times before actually replying, “Yeah, it’s really an honor and a big opportunity to be chosen for this. I’ve done solo shoots before, but not ones of this magnitude.”

Another figure approached your small group, a makeup artist. Jeno handed his water back to Eunseok before leading the way a little further away to sit in a chair. As the makeup artist attended to his makeup, you continued with the interview.

“How familiar are you with the photographer on this shoot?”

“I’ve worked with Chen Man a few times before—” he paused to let the makeup artist apply his lip color again. After she was done, he continued, “Her ideas are incredible and she’s honestly so wonderful to work with. However, all those other times I was with other models, so doing a solo photoshoot with her is a bit nerve-wracking. She’s the kind of person that you really want to make proud, you know?”

Thinking of Ms. Zhang and her disappointment in you earlier, you nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

There was a call for everyone to start getting back into their places, and you took this as your cue to leave Jeno alone. He had work to do.

The makeup artist did one touch up on his face before letting him up out of the chair, another person coming to his side to fix his hair up just the way they wanted it, walking alongside him awkwardly to do so.

“Take a bunch of notes on your little notepad, Y/N!” Jeno quipped as he walked back in front of the camera.

“Will do!” You affirmed, holding your notebook above your head and shaking it slightly so he could see it.

Returning to your previous spot off to the side with Eunseok, you had a fond smile on your lips from your short interaction with Jeno. Eunseok had a little smirk of his own as he gazed at you.

“And what’s that smile for?” You questioned, head tilted.

“Nothing.”

You elbowed him with a short giggle, “Come on, tell me.”

“No,” he shook his head, that same smile on his lips.

Even as you rolled your eyes, your focus never faltered from Eunseok. You changed tactics, a slight pout on your face as you asked again, “Please, Seokkie?”

Finally, he relented, “You’re pretty special, Y/N.”

“What?” You questioned in pleasant surprise.

“For Manager Han to have approved this interview after what happened last time, Jeno probably begged.”

“I can't imagine what would be so special about me.”

Eunseok had a brightness to his features that you hadn’t seen yet as he replied, “I can.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what is it?”

Shouts from the set took both your attentions away from each other. Chen Man had been calling directions out during the whole shoot, but never with such aggression as then.

“Jeno! Lee Jeno!”

You scanned the scene in front of you as you tried to figure out what exactly was happening. Jeno’s arms were crossed across his chest, a startlingly stern but calm gaze focused on… you?

“Jeno can you—ugh, fifteen-minute break, everybody!” She yelled out in exasperation, the rest of the crew breaking the silence, scattering from the set.

Chen Man continued addressing her model, “Jeno, your expressions… they’re off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on them.”

Despite acknowledging her words, you were doubtful of if he had actually registered them, stalking off the set with seemingly one destination in mind.

“Y/N,” Jeno stopped right by you and Eunseok. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“Of course,” you nodded, well aware of how the crew was only pretending to be busy, instead actually focused on the three of you.

Your subject took off again, and you guessed that he anticipated that you’d follow him. Which you did. Eunseok stayed behind.

His longer legs made it a little hard to keep up with him as he took twists and turns down hallways of the building.

“Jeno,” you breathed out, seeming to finally snap him out of whatever mood he had been in.

Immediately, he slowed down to your pace, a faint smile coming to his lips, “Sorry, long legs.”

“Where are we going?”

He abruptly stopped, “Here is fine.”

It was the middle of some random hallway. He apparently didn’t have an actual destination in mind, more-so a distance.

“So what do you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, pencil and notepad at the ready. It had to be something for the interview, it couldn’t possibly be anything else.

“Y/N…” Jeno reached his hands out to cover yours, gently lowering the pencil and notepad for you. His hands were big and warm on yours, and you felt nerves flare up at his clear insinuation that this wasn’t for the interview.

“Jeno…” you said back with a nervous half-giggle. He was still holding your hands.

“This isn’t part of the interview. I’m not interviewee Jeno, and you’re not interviewer Y/N right now.”

“Okay…”

As soon as you had accepted these terms, he released his feather-light hold on your hands and took his own back to wring them nervously. What could Lee Jeno possibly be nervous about?

“Hm, I’ve never done this before,” he chuckled, pressing a palm to the center of his chest.

“Done what?”

“Okay, I’m just going to be upfront. Uh, I think you’re super great, and pretty, and awesome and I’d really like to be able to take you out on a date some time.”

This had to be a fucking joke. No way that someone who looks like him, an actual model, someone who gets paid for being ridiculously attractive, could actually be asking you out. This had to be a sick, terrible, horrible joke he was playing on you.

And yet as his big brown eyes gazed at you, wide and hopeful, looking a lot like a puppy waiting to be adopted from some animal shelter, you knew that he was being genuine.

And you panicked.

Stuttering for a moment, you finally choked out the most formal and emotionally removed response you could’ve come up with, “I’m sorry, I—that wouldn’t be appropriate, since I’m interviewing you right now. A bias or conflict of interest would damage the integrity of my piece as well as my career.”

Surprisingly, his features didn’t seem as crestfallen as you anticipated, his expressions were always so easy to read. He, in fact, seemed very happy with your reply.

“I get it,” he beamed at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze for a moment before letting it go. “After the article, then.”

That wasn’t what you meant. At all. But between your own burning cheeks and internal state of panic, you couldn’t express this to him. Or even really process your own thoughts right then.

“We should head back, Eunseok will come looking for us soon,” Jeno nodded with his head back in the general direction that you two had come from.

He kept a polite distance from you, allowing some of the panic alarms blaring in your mind to quiet just a bit. You tried to brainstorm ways you could possibly keep this interview going forever. Ways to give you as much time as possible. To do what, exactly? Maybe come up with an actual way of rejecting him. Or maybe give him enough time to change his romantic focus to someone else, so that he would never end up revisiting this subject after the interview.

You could dream.

“Oh my god!” NingNing exclaimed. “Are you shitting me?!”

You’d just recalled your day to your roommate, finally ending at the part where Jeno had asked you on a date. She had literally done a spit-take back into her soda as she smacked your leg in excitement.

Despite still being in disbelief yourself, Jeno had been extremely up-front and clear about it. No room for misinterpretation. Unlike your response to him.

“Well when’s the date?” NingNing squealed, pressing for more information.

“I said no,” you deadpanned.

“What?”

“Well, kind of.”

At the clear grimace on your face, your friend sighed, “Y/N, what did you tell him? Verbatim.”

“I told him that it would be inappropriate right now because a bias or conflict of interest would ruin the integrity of my piece and any career opportunity that came out of it,” you repeated your statement from earlier almost word-for-word, sure that it would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

“You do know that he now definitely thinks that you were telling him to just wait until after the article is over, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands and rubbing your face in exasperation.

“You don’t want to go on a date with Jeno?”

“I don’t want to date Lee Jeno,” you confirmed, nodding the head that you were still holding.

“Let me just review the situation here: you’ve got a very sweet, very funny, very hot guy that’s into you. What’s the problem?”

“He’s hot.”

Finally, you’d found it. The real reason you’d said no, the real reason you had a deep pit of dread in your stomach as soon as the words had left Jeno’s mouth hours earlier.

She snorted, “That’s a problem?”

“His entire career is based off being hot, he’s a model,” you explained rather desperately, relieved to finally be able to put your tumultuous thoughts into proper words. “I can’t deal with all that shit that comes with it. I just can’t.”

“So you’ll never want to date him? You’re not going to change your mind?”

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Never say never,” NingNing taunted with a sing-song voice, but at your eye-roll, became more serious. “Okay, let’s just say you’ll never date Jeno in your life—despite the fact that nothing is ever definite—you shouldn’t lead him on. Intentional or otherwise. Don’t let him spend the next few weeks thinking that you two are going to date after the article’s over.”

The anxiety was still there, however. “What if he doesn’t actually think that and I just misunderstood him? What if he just naturally gets over me in the next few weeks and doesn’t need me to confront him about this and straight-up reject him? He’s probably never been rejected in his life, what if he doesn’t take it well? What—”

She cut your endless strings of ‘what if’s short, “Y/N, didn’t he say that he’d never done this before?”

Realization hit you straight to the gut. “What if me rejecting him makes him never want to ask anybody else out again for the rest of his life and I scar him permanently?”

Your roommate had a clear look of ‘yikes’ on her face, and pure mortification ran through every inch of you.

“Never mind, there’s no way I could ever have such an impact on Lee Jeno’s life, that’s fucking ridiculous. I’m just some normal person, some journalist, and he’s literally a supermodel. No way this would actually matter to someone like that.”

“Y/N, don’t say stuff like that,” NingNing frowned, pulling some hair away from your face gently. “You matter to me, remember? You’re my best friend.”

Completely ignoring her, you continued, “I just have to be upfront with him, tell him I don’t want to go on a date with him, and be done with it. He’ll probably never think about it again for the rest of his life.”

She let out a sigh as if she were going to say something but thought better of it. You didn’t press her; your mind had been made up.

You couldn’t do it.

The next time you saw Jeno, you had every intention of being upfront. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were an absolute coward. Some part of you didn’t want to tell him, for whatever reason.

Maybe because the way his face absolutely lit up when he saw you was something you’d never seen anybody do for you before. Maybe because he asked you how your day was and didn’t look disinterested in your answer. Maybe because no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that this was a professional interview, he made you feel so at ease that you somehow talked more about yourself than him.

Maybe because you did kind of want to date him.

Your notebook had been completely abandoned about fifteen minutes into your ‘lunch meeting,’ a fact that went mostly unnoticed by you. Until the waiter came with the bill and you had to move it out of the way for him to set it on the tabletop. You’d written just a couple short notes, nothing substantial. That wasn’t an interview, you couldn’t even try to bullshit it to yourself. That was a date-but-not-a-date. And you enjoyed yourself.

As you contemplated over your mostly-blank page, Jeno had already tucked his own card into the pouch and waved the waiter back over. Before you could argue him paying for you, the waiter was halfway across the restaurant.

“Jeno, I can pay for my own food,” you reminded him gently, feeling very much like you were scolding an over-excited puppy that had accidentally knocked over a potted plant in its haste to greet you.

“And I can pay for both of ours,” he countered.

You held his gaze firmly, waiting for him to— there it was.

His mouth split into a sheepish grin as he held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, I get it, I get it. Interview time right now. We’ll split the check for now.”

For now.

Maybe you liked the idea of that.

“Except this one, since they already ran my card,” Jeno added, a victorious smirk on his face, one that had you shaking your head fondly.

“Can I at least tip?”

“Already added that on the receipt.”

“How dare you be so thoughtful and respectful.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a distant chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a cursory glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. Maybe he should have left his mask and hat on, or not chosen a table by the window.

And your heart dropped as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just some cute guy named Lee Jeno, but a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly.

You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject yourself to that. It would be too much for you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you collected your notepad and stood up, stiffly bowing to him. “Thank you for allowing me to interview you, Mr. Lee.”

Thankfully, he took your lead, standing and returning your bow, “Of course, thank you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Hopefully the girls got the message that this was business and nothing else. A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you did not need in your life.

The light hum that had been in Ms. Zhang’s throat through most of her reading of your article suddenly changed tone as she came to the ending. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, and your mind was running wild with nerves as you waited for her to speak.

“It’s good, Y/N,” she started.

You sensed a ‘but’ coming next.

“But… in the very first paragraph you introduce him as model by day, and explorer by night, or something to that effect.”

“Yes, that’s how he and his friends introduced him.”

“But you never bring up his ‘exploring’ again. This is about his life as a model and what he’s like outside of modelling here. You hooked me on the exploring part, but left me ultimately unsatisfied with that point.”

She was right. She was absolutely right. In your own personal whirlwind of confusion about your emotions and wants, you’d left a loose end in your article.

Ms. Zhang continued, her tone rising, “But…”

Oh, another ‘but.’

“This might just be perfect for a sequel. We publish this and advertise it as a two-part look into him, the first part his model by day, and the second part all about him as an explorer.”

You were caught off-guard, “You want to publish it?”

You had honestly expected her to throw it in the trash and fire you. You’d been so all over the place the entire time you’d been working on the article, you didn’t think it was anywhere close to your best work.

“Of course, this is the most hard-hitting and real piece that’s ever been done about the man! Most of it is tabloid nonsense. Not to mention that this is the first interview he’s done in over a year, it’s fresh content. It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Ms. Zhang just called your article perfect. You were on Cloud Nine, barely listening as she continued.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get a second interview with him? Maybe even tag along on one of his exploring trips or something, like how you went to one of his photoshoots in this one?”

That snapped you back into reality. Going on a trip with Jeno? That sounded dicey. But… also a chance to extend the interview, prolong the inevitable: his expectation that you’ll start dating after the interview. Your worst fear.

Avoiding an uncomfortable scenario and making your career out of it? It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

“Of course, Ms. Zhang.”

Right as you walked into the VIP lounge, you were met with the expectant face of Jeno. You’d agreed to meet him there on your lunch break, right after your morning meeting with Ms. Zhang, to let him know if she was going to move forward with publishing your article or not. It felt a bit weird being at a nightclub in the middle of the day in your work clothes, but it was one of the more private places to meet with him.

“So?” He asked hopefully. “How’d it go?”

“She’s going to publish it,” you breathed out, still in shock yourself.

Two strong arms were suddenly around you, pulling you into a warm chest that was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh my god!” Jeno hugged you tightly. “Congrats, Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

You hugged him back for a moment, enjoying it more than you should have considering you swore up and down that you weren’t going to let yourself date him. Then you remembered the other half of the conversation, your arms going limp.

“And she wants a second part.”

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, then after another moment, it seemed to have dawned on him. “Oh wait.”

And he let go of you, a particular chill coming to your body as he took a step back from you, declaring, “Professionalism. No bias or conflict of interest.”

You felt bad. You felt so bad. And yet you nodded, “Yeah, it’s still going to have to be like that.”

Maybe forever, if you could swing it just right.

“So… a second part about what, exactly? The article was super great, but I’m not sure how I could be interesting enough for a sequel.”

“Your ‘exploring,’” you explained. “I had mentioned it, but never returned to the topic or expanded on it, so she wants this whole second part to be about your trips and you know… all that stuff. Whatever you get up to when you’re not a model, and when you’re not a regular dude here.”

A rather cheeky grin spread across his face at this, and you didn’t want to know why he was so excited about you not dating, because you had a feeling it would be something awful close to it.

“Well then, what better way to get to know Explorer Jeno than coming with me on my trip to a tropical island next week?”

You were taken aback by both the invite but also by the event itself. After all, Jeno had given you his entire schedule for the past two months, which included next week. And you didn’t remember a trip being anywhere on there.

“Since when have you been going to a tropical island next week?” You asked incredulously.

“Since now.”

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Jeno, you can’t drop everything in your life just to do this. I can wait until whenever your next actual scheduled break is for whatever trip you make then.”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he insisted, a near pout across his features. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, half-mumbling to himself, “I’m calling my manager right now. He owes me vacation days anyway, I’ll just take them early. Make my three-week backpacking trip in Europe next year fifteen days instead. I can’t wait.”

That went straight to your heart, and you felt your chest hurt from the implications of that. He couldn’t wait until he could date you. With every passing moment you felt like a more and more terrible human being. Which you were, you absolutely were just a horrible human being for doing this to him. After all, like you’d said, you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

One week later and you were in your third airport of the trip, your second layover as you waited for your connecting flight. You’d been in interviewer mode since Jeno had picked you up to head to the first airport that morning. Asking questions, writing answers, asking more questions. There was no room for anything but business on this trip. This article would be the follow-up to your first piece that your boss thought was perfect. So this had to be more perfect than perfect. You wanted to make her proud.

Jeno, surprisingly, was being rather professional too. Other than the slight touch here, an odd phrase there that couldn’t exactly be classified as professional. A brush of your hands as he tried to get your attention, off-handed comment about how cute you were when you were focused taking notes. You’d only remind him that this was a professional article, hoping that he couldn’t see the bashful smile on your lips.

Or even now, he returned from what was supposed to be a quick bathroom break with waters and snacks for the both of you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked as you accepted the food and drink.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Come on, Y/N,” he sighed in exasperation, cracking open his own water bottle. “I know we’re serious professional interviewing here, but two people doing business together can still be friendly and do nice gestures for each other.”

He was right. He was absolutely right. You were being a jerk for no reason. Well, not for no reason. There was a small voice in your head that hoped that maybe if you pushed him away enough now he would change his mind about wanting to date you, that he’d think you were actually a jerk. And that little voice was apparently wrong. And also a piece of shit. Jeno didn’t deserve that.

“Right, sorry,” you shook your grumpy face off, offering him a smile instead. “Thanks, Jeno.”

He pulled down his face mask to be able to drink the water, and that combined with his inconspicuous baseball cap brought back the idea that he was a famous celebrity who had to cover up his appearance when he went out to avoid being detected. Even in some random foreign country you didn’t know the name of on a layover. If you did actually start dating him, would he have to wear those on your dates? Any time you wanted to spend time together in public? Would you have to start wearing them?

Those were ridiculous thoughts, especially because you were never going to date Lee Jeno.

Right?

On the plane, you halted the interview to allow the two of you to both take naps, already feeling the toll of the heavy travelling you’d done today. And you’d be doing even more soon, as this flight wouldn’t even take you to the island directly, you had to take a ferry from a different island’s airport out to the actual island that was your destination. Then a car ride of some sort from the harbor to wherever you were staying. And based off the clothes Jeno had requested you bring, you’d be getting very in touch with nature on this trip, another exhausting idea.

All for an interview. All for a way to avoid the inevitable.

As you snoozed, not quite asleep yet, you felt Jeno slowly shift in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it finally found a resting place on your shoulder. Even in his sleep this man completely disregarded professionalism.

But you were too tired to complain, soon falling asleep yourself, with your own head rolling until it finally found a resting place on his.

“So what exactly happened at your last interview that was so bad you were banned from them?”

Your questions continued as soon as you’d left the airport on the island, only halting when you were caught off-guard by Jeno’s choice of transportation: a cream yellow moped. Which you were now on the back of, clinging onto your bag for dear life. Thank God you had packed light like he suggested.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he replied loudly over the wind. “I’ll tell you when we get to the hotel, okay?”

“Fine.”

“We’ve got some tighter turns coming up, you might want to hold on to something actually attached to the moped.”

He didn’t say it, but you knew what he meant. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you then held onto him for dear life as he whipped around the turns. How he could possibly make a moped feel dangerous was truly incredible to you.

“Yeah, that—” he stumbled over a voice crack. “That’s good. Much more secure.”

“This question shouldn’t be a long story: Have you ever driven one of these things before?”

The hotel was small and homey, with so few rooms that the two of you would be sharing one. Jeno had already informed you of that beforehand, having asked for the okay from you, that sharing the room wouldn’t be too unprofessional. While it definitely was, there were no other rooms available, so you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. When he informed you that there were two beds, you finally agreed.

Except it wasn’t two beds, as you found out when you walked in. It was a bed and a pull-out couch. And he’d already claimed the pull-out couch for himself.

“Jeno,” you sighed again as you watched him set his stuff down on the less comfortable option. “This isn’t two beds.”

He shrugged, “We have separate places to sleep, that’s what you were worried about, right?”

Your patience was wearing thin. It was almost annoying how sweet he was. Well, it wasn’t really him being sweet that annoyed you. It was the sneaky ways he liked to do it.

“Jeno…” you repeated his name, trailing off as you waited for him acknowledge you.

He was still messing around with setting up the pull-out couch.

“Jeno, look at me.”

At your request, he immediately did so, the attentiveness catching you off-guard for a moment. But you were determined.

“I don’t like being lied to or tricked. Even if it’s something nice, you know? It’s sweet, but I like to make my own decisions about things. Even things that may seem little to you, like splitting the bill at restaurants, or whether you’re coming up to get me or I’m going down to meet you, or you dropping all your plans to go on some spur-of-the-moment trip, or who’s taking the couch and who’s taking the bed. I’d like a say in the matter, okay?”

He gulped, seeming to really be taking his time to mull over what you were saying. And you did, too. It was another reason that you could never date him. He was a celebrity, he was used to being able to do whatever, to not having to worry about the kinds of things normal people like you had to worry about. The implications of that terrified you. You couldn’t do it.

Finally, he said, “Okay, yeah. I understand. I never really saw it like that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful of how it was making you feel. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Shit, this dude was way too fucking sweet.

You nodded, mumbling some kind of response to the genuine apology he’d given you.

Clearly as eager to change the topic as you, Jeno spoke up, “So, what was it that you’d asked me on the moped earlier?”

And you were more than happy to revisit that, snatching up your notebook from your bag and sitting on the bed, “What happened at your last interview that caused you to be banned from them?”

“Oh, right,” he physically grimaced at this, rubbing his face with his hands for a moment. “It’s a long story, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ve got plenty of paper.”

Jeno let out a sigh, sitting on the pull-out couch. “No, Y/N. I can tell you, but you can’t write it down, you can’t publish it. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, because I know how dedicated you are to the integrity of your work but… if you’re going to publish it, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. The others don’t even know the whole story. Jaemin doesn’t know.”

His words struck you differently, hearing the genuine defeat and distress in his voice. With a twinging heart, you tucked your notepad and pencil back into your bag. For someone who had been preaching about professionalism and keeping the integrity of your article, you were really so ready to throw it out for him as soon as he asked, weren’t you?

“I won’t write it down, I won’t tell a soul,” you reassured him, wanting nothing more than to sit down next to him and hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay. But you still clung onto some little semblance of professionalism here. For some fucking reason, when it was getting clearer by the minute that all your resistance would be futile.

Just a glimmer of a smile was across his lips for a moment at your actions before it was taken over by the same pensive face as before, and he started the story.

“It was… oh probably over a year ago now. I was still kind of new to the modelling industry, but it felt like everyone’s eyes were on me. My company toted me around as their rising star and every second I wasn’t at a gig, I was being interviewed by someone. It was a lot, but it was freaking awesome.”

The brightness in his features that had been there as he recalled the earlier days of his career suddenly turned dark at his next words. “Until this one interview. It was for a smaller magazine, and my manager didn’t even know why I wanted to do the interview. But it was a magazine that my mom liked to read, and I wanted her to be able to see her son in it. So I sat down with the interviewer, and it felt like it was going like all my other interviews had gone. And maybe because I wanted to really make a good impression on her, so the article my mom read would be as positive as possible, I accidentally led her on or something like that.”

You tilted your head curiously at this last statement. If it had come from any other hot guy, you might have doubted his actual intentions, but it was Jeno. You knew that he wasn’t only physically attractive but had such a way of being naturally charming and making people feel at ease that it was impossible not to be drawn in by his attractive personality. He didn’t do it on purpose, he was just a genuinely nice guy.

“But afterwards, she asked for my number. I said no. I let her down as easy as I could, and she took it with grace. Or I had thought so until Manager Han and the CEO of my company—who I had never met until this—sat me down in his office and showed me a naked picture of some guy and asked if it was me. You couldn’t see his face, and his build was similar to mine, so I could see how they were doubtful. It wasn’t me, but that didn’t matter. The interviewer had sent those pictures to my company saying that if they didn’t pay her a bunch of money, she would post them online saying they were of me.”

Your eyes widened almost comically at this. You couldn’t believe that someone could actually think of doing something like that, especially to Jeno.

“Now, the company doesn’t take very well to people trying to extort them or threaten their people, so she was taken care of.” After a pause, his eyes shot open comically wide as he shook his head fervently, “Legally, in the legal system, it’s not like my company like killed her or anything, I phrased that very badly.”

A quiet laugh came from your mouth at his backpedaling.

“Anyway, they decided that after that, it would be best for me to not do interviews for a while. I don’t really know what happened to her after the court case, but to my knowledge, she hasn’t bothered us. And I haven’t had an interview since. Until you.”

“Until me,” you echoed, mind reeling from this story.

This interview really meant more to Jeno than you had realized before. You’d incorrectly and selfishly assumed that he was so invested in it just because he liked you. But it was more than that. His last interview had been a disaster, the interviewer threatened to humiliate him publicly, and betrayed him. He had taken a chance on you to be different than that, taken a chance to make you his first interview back after the shit the last one had put him through. You were sure that he was feeling the pressure from his company to make it the best possible return to them ever. And he had entrusted it all with you.

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been sitting in silence for, but it started suffocating you, so you finally choked out, “I’m sorry she did that to you. She’s… a bitch.”

Jeno chuckled, “I guess. I kind of just feel bad for her.”

“I don’t,” you snorted, feeling your blood starting to boil as you thought about it even more. “She tried to ruin your career and reputation because she got rejected. It’s not your fault, Jeno. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. She’s just a bitch.”

While he didn’t outright agree with you, the faint smile on his features was still apparent as he went to stand up, forcing some pep into his tone. “Okay, time for some island exploring. After all, you’re here for Explorer Jeno, right?”

“Right!”

Right?

Being on the island was refreshing. Not only because you’d never been on a trip to a place quite like it before, but just everything felt absolutely perfect. It was the perfect temperature outside, the warm sun being balanced out by a cool breeze that blew through your hair, the water surrounding you was the perfect clear blue, the flora the perfect rich green, and the man with you was… perfect.

You’d given up on trying to keep your fond thoughts of Jeno at bay. He was wonderful, that was undeniable. And as you went around the island together, his baseball cap and face mask left behind in the hotel room, the notion of his fame slipped from your mind. Sure, you were still writing down your observations, small adventures, and pertinent questions you asked him. But you weren’t interviewing Famous Supermodel Jeno right now, you were interviewing Explorer Jeno. And he was someone you could let yourself fall for, even for just a few days on this little island.

After your third day on the island as you signed onto the hotel wifi to transcribe your notes from your notebook to your word document on your laptop, a few email notifications popped up, catching your attention. Reception wasn’t the best, and you had so many other things occupying your focus and time—mainly Jeno—that you rarely checked your phone. Not to mention that before you’d left, you were unsure of if you’d even have cell phone service on the island, so you’d told your friends to email you if they needed anything.

One was an email from NingNing, the short preview of her message that you could see making you shake your head. You were not on a romantic getaway with Jeno.

The next was some flyer from a store advertising their latest sale, which you quickly discarded in favor of opening the one from Ms. Zhang. The person who was literally paying for you to be there right then.

The gist of her email was basically just asking for a status update, a routine check-in to see how your research and interview was coming along. You filled her in on what kind of direction and outline you were thinking of for the article, telling her some of the things you’d done together around the island, framing it as professionally as you could. However, it was very hard to make it business-like, you realized in slight defeat as you reread the email draft to yourself. Maybe you could make it casual-business-friendly-sounding instead. After editing a couple phrases here and there, you read it one more time. Satisfied that you’d made it sound the least like a ‘romantic getaway’ as possible, you hit send.

You had just sent it when Jeno emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and toweling off his wet hair.

When the two of you had gotten back from wandering the streets and seeing the nightlife of the town, you’d given him first shower of the night, wanting to sort out your notes as soon as possible. You had a lot to move over just from that night alone, especially the moment when Jeno was ordering something from an older street vendor and had suddenly busted out some local dialect he’d picked up from God knows where. And the man knew what he was saying too. Jeno never ceased to amaze you.

“Jeno,” you called his name out from where you sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop with the email still up in front of you.

“Hm?” He hummed in acknowledgement, abandoning his towel in order to run his fingers through his damp hair.

“The way the guys had described your exploring, and the stuff you’d told me to bring made me think it’d be more… rugged than this.”

A handsome, crooked grin split his lips, seeming very delighted at your observation, “And what did the guys tell you?”

“Jaemin and Renjun seemed fearful for my life and told me to be safe; Haechan and Chenle were rather ecstatic and told me to have fun in a tone that made me not want to know their implications; Mark told me to bring plenty of water and a first aid kit; and Jisung… well he didn’t actually say anything but his face said it all.”

“You talked to all the guys about the trip?”

“Not by choice, NingNing brought me to an influencer party with Jisung, Jaemin, and Renjun the other day, and I was summoned to the lounge by Chenle and subsequently ambushed by him, Haechan, and Mark about it.”

“They’re all menaces,” Jeno shook his head fondly. “But don’t worry, I’ve got some plans for us tomorrow.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He giggled.

“So we’re hiking to the top of this volcano?” You summarized what Jeno had just told you, in much fewer words.

“Yep!”

“Then camping near the top, which we may or may not be allowed to do.”

“Yep!”

“Without a guide.”

“I’m your guide, Y/N! I do this kind of stuff all the time, and there’s a trail to follow anyway.”

“Now I know why Jaemin and Renjun feared for my life.”

“They were being dramatic, it’ll be fine.”

“Oh I’m not protesting going, I’ll just make sure to type up my will in the notes app in my phone first.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. I won’t write my final will and testament right now.”

“Let’s go!”

Thankfully, you’d taken heed of Mark’s advice to bring extra water. With the amount you were sweating, you would’ve been dehydrated less than an hour in if you weren’t constantly replenishing the lost fluids. It wasn’t an incredibly strenuous or difficult hike. Not a casual stroll, but you were managing. It was just that it was so hot and humid now that you were in the more confined landscape of the trees, you couldn’t tell if more of the moisture was your own sweat or the water hanging in the air and clinging to your skin as you continued through it.

Jeno kept you plenty entertained with stories of his previous (mis)adventures, almost all of which were solo. There were a couple times that he brought along others, but they didn’t go great. One unfortunate happenstance was when he’d dragged Eunseok out white water rafting with him and the poor guy fell out of the raft into freezing cold water. According to Jeno, his PA almost quit right on the spot. Another time, the other VIP lounge members had joined him as a celebration trip after Renjun hit 10 million subscribers. They ran out of water on the second day, Chenle ended up spraining his ankle, and they were ready to commit mutiny before the 48-hour mark, so the trip was concluded early.

“Jeno, it sounds like the people who go exploring with you don’t have a great track record of enjoying themselves,” you pointed out, taking another swig of water.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He countered.

Looking around, you could just make out a peek of blue ocean through the trees, and looking ahead of you, the two of you were more than halfway to the top.

“Yeah, I am. So far. There’s still time for me to sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river.”

He shook his head affectionately at your teasing, “Careful, you’re going to jinx yourself.”

“Old hiking superstition? If you talk about spraining your ankle you will?”

“No, but still. My own little superstition, I guess.”

“Got it. Then I’ll un-jinx myself: I will not sprain my ankle or fall into a freezing river on this trip,” you announced loudly to the surrounding forest, earning another fond smile from Jeno accompanied by a soft chuckle.

“There you go.”

“Another five minutes or so and we’ll be at the peak!” Jeno yelled back over his shoulder to you excitedly.

You were a few steps behind him, your legs had been complaining for the greater part of the last thirty minutes. But with this information, you felt reinvigorated, having the end so close bringing a new spark of energy to your tired limbs. You caught up to him, sharing the trail at the wider parts and staying just behind him at the narrower parts.

Finally, you were at the top. And you knew because the trees opened up to a clearing, the leaves and branches giving way to the most incredible sights you could’ve imagined.

“Wow,” you breathed out, turning to get the full view.

From here you could see the whole little town below you, other nearby islands, the forest you had just hiked through, and the vast, glistening blue sea surrounding you. The sun bounced off of the water at the perfect angle to make it look like it was made of diamonds. It was breathtaking. Not to mention that now that you were out of the humid forest, you could once again feel the cool breeze across your heated skin.

A pod of dolphins surfaced briefly, their fins dipping up and down between the calm waves.

“Jeno, dolphins!” You pointed them out to him eagerly, instinctually clutching his arm in excitement. “Did you know that dolphins in the Amazon River are pink because of repeated skin abrasion, and that the males are pinker because they have a lot more interspecies aggression?”

“I think my guide told me something like that, but I was too focused on getting my paddle back from one to really listen to him.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah, I went to the Amazon last summer. I had to wrestle my paddle back from a rather playful one,” he shrugged, as if it was just a casual little day trip or something. “So you really like dolphins?”

“I did a report for school when I was like 11, some of the info just stuck.”

As you kept watching the dolphins, a smaller one popped up in the middle of the pod. “Oh! A baby! It’s so cute!”

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed with you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “You can’t tell it’s a girl from here!”

Then you looked over at him, realizing that his focus wasn’t on the dolphins, but on you. Mumbling something about professionalism, you let go of his arm, clasping your hands in front of you as you awkwardly looked back out to the sea.

With a victorious smirk on his face—probably enjoying the fact that he was able to fluster you—Jeno took a few steps away from you, yanking his knapsack off his back and grabbing a blanket from it, “Time for a late lunch.”

He laid the blanket out on a flatter part of the terrain, then brought out a small assortment of foods. You sat down with him, eager to dig into the food. With how much your legs hurt from hiking up here, you hadn’t realized that you were starving until he mentioned lunch. Your stomach growled angrily, and you just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

Jeno had packed a very nice lunch for you to share. For the most part, you two were quiet, mouths full of food and eyes still drinking in the stunning view of where you were. You turned your phone on to snap a few pictures before shutting it off again. With no charging ports out here, you had to conserve the battery until you were back in the hotel.

“Do you know which island that is?” You asked Jeno, pointing to the one that seemed the closest to you.

“Nope.”

“That one?” You pointed to a different one.

“Nope.”

“This one?” You teasingly pointed at the ground you were sitting on.

Jeno raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Right as you had opened your mouth to say something smartassy back, you pursed your lips in defeat. “Uh, nope.”

He chuckled, capping his water and starting to put the trash and leftover food back into his bag. You followed his lead, standing when he did so he could pack the blanket back up too. Stretching, a few satisfying cracks came from your back, letting go of the tension that had built up from your sitting position that probably wasn’t great for your spine.

“We should head down to the campsite soon,” Jeno informed you quietly as you had gone back to watching the ocean.

He’d told you while you were still at the base that you wouldn’t be camping at the peak, but at another area a little further down the mountain that was a lot safer for sleeping on. You wished you could’ve stayed up here for the rest of your life.

“Can’t we stay and watch the sunset?” Your voice was nearly a soft whine as you resisted leaving so soon. “It’s got to be incredible from up here.”

“I’m sure it is,” he sounded very reluctant to be telling you this. “But we have to set up camp before it gets too dark.”

“A couple more minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After being rather useless in helping Jeno set up your campsite—not for any chivalrous reasons on his part, you were truly just inept at things and did more harm than good when you tried to help—you sat outside the tent with him. The two of you were going to be sharing a tent, which he had asked earlier if that would be okay. You told him it was fine with you.

The blanket previously used for lunch earlier was under the two of you as you sat just outside the tent. The site Jeno had chosen as your campsite was in a rare area where the foliage wasn’t too thick, and you could just make out some of the ocean as the sun set. It wasn’t the picture-perfect sunset you imagined could be seen from the peak, but it was still pretty.

You continued with your interview questions as you looked out towards the water, scrawling down his answers in the fading light. You couldn’t quite see what you were writing, hoping you didn’t just make a bunch of illegible scribbles instead of notes. He spoke again of his trip to the Amazon, saying how he’d like to go back again sometime, and maybe have a better look at the pink river dolphins. The way he said it fostered some implications, a thought in your mid that maybe you could go with him if he did go back. That was a nice thought. And impractical one, but it gave you warm fuzzies nonetheless.

“So, why do you think you like exploring so much?” You asked him after hearing so many stories of all the destinations he’d gone to.

“Who doesn’t like to travel?”

“What you do… it’s not just travelling, it’s not just a vacation. You’re not booked up in five stars hotels in city centers or doing every tacky tourist thing out there. You get at the heart of where you are, you explore it, you don’t just visit it. Why is that?”

“That’s a rather deep question,” he let out a light chuckle, shifting to face you as he closed his eyes, taking a moment to think. “I guess… like you said, I try to get at the heart of the place, not the surface-level stuff everyone else sees. I’ve always had a sort of wanderlust in me. When I was about twelve, I damn near gave my mom a heart attack because I got on a train and wanted to see where it went and ended up fifty miles from home. And now, I don’t know, I guess the stuff everybody else does doesn’t really interest me… the picture that’s painted to tourists of a place isn’t what it actually is, and I want to find out what is. If that makes sense. Did that make sense?”

You swallowed hard, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it did. I completely understand, yeah.”

That’s how he saw the world, and it was beautiful. And maybe you could see it like him; maybe you could look past the picture that’s painted and what everyone else sees to get at the heart.

Up this high, cold started setting in some time long after the sun had finished setting and darkness was all around you, save for the soft glow of the lantern Jeno had going. The temperature wouldn’t drop terribly, but it was cooler than it was during the day, encouraging you to tuck your chilly fingers into the inside of your knees for some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno frowned, standing up and stepping over to the tent. “I forgot to tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“I’m alright, Jeno,” you assured him, but his arm popped back out of the tent holding a couple pieces of clothing.

It was two sweaters, one he offered out to you, the other presumably for himself. You didn’t refuse, which maybe you really should have for professionalism’s sake. Slipping the hoodie over your head then sticking your arms in, you were immediately swallowed up by it. Sure, Jeno was pretty buff, but you were sure this would be oversized even on him.

You didn’t even have to try to pull the sleeves over your hands, sweater paws already there as soon as you’d put it on. Which wasn’t ideal if you wanted to keep writing stuff down for the article.

“I would’ve told you that I’m a human space heater, but I figured this was a little more professional,” he said, heavy implications there.

Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you took it upon yourself to scoot closer to him until your legs and sides were touching, “This is still professional, just two professionals huddling together for warmth.”

“Yeah.”

You were trying to convince yourself more than you were him, knowing that you couldn’t really fool yourself on this one. But damn, you could pretend you did.

It was pretty soon after he’d gotten sweaters for the two of you that Jeno interjected into your conversation, “So when is the article technically over? When you’re done writing it? When your boss okays it? When it’s compiled with the other articles in that issue of the journal? When the copies hit the shelves and its uploaded to the website?”

You let out a shallow breath, knowing what he was really asking. When can the two of you date?

The part of you that was saying ‘never!’ was getting smaller and smaller, and the part of you who just wanted it to be right now was growing bigger and bigger. And yet, for some reason, you were still listening to the little one.

“I don’t know, probably when it’s officially published. You know, when ‘the copies hit the shelves and it’s uploaded to the website.’”

“When do you think that will be?”

“The first one is being published in this month’s issue. So, depending on how fast I get this one written up and proofed, at the earliest next month.”

“And the latest?”

“A couple months. I’m not sure how long Ms. Zhang will want between the two, if she wants to leave the audience in suspense for longer or give them the next part as soon as possible. Probably the first one, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” Jeno’s pout that you could see illuminated from the lantern was suddenly split into a wide yawn. “We should go to sleep, we’ve got the climb back down tomorrow.”

You were glad that he had brought it up first. After all, you were pretty tired, but you weren’t about to be the one to end the nice time you were having. Nodding, you stood, taking the lantern in your hand as Jeno folded the blanket back up.

Ducking into the tent, you immediately plopped down onto your sleeping bag, giving Jeno as much room as possible to maneuver his limbs around as he zipped the tent up behind him and set his stuff down in the corner. You put the lantern down at your feet, keeping the area illuminated as you climbed into your sleeping bag and started settling in for the night.

With the covers pulled up to your shoulders and Jeno’s hoodie bunching around your face in a comfortably warm way, you were pretty content to fall asleep then and there. But the light was still on.

Groaning, you looked down towards your feet, glaring at the lantern you knew you’d have to get un-comfy to turn off. Jeno had a small smile on his face as he sat up, “I’ll get it. You ready to turn it off?”

You nodded, your ‘yes’ muffled by the hoodie.

The last thing you saw before complete darkness was Jeno’s soft grin. That was a rather nice image to have in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eyes fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was that you were warm. Very warm. Way too warm. One might say that you were currently in a pool of your own sweat. You’d have to wash this hoodie before giving it back to Jeno, it was definitely disgusting.

Speaking of Jeno, he wasn’t in the tent with you, which you noticed as you peeled the somewhat damp sweater off yourself. You took the opportunity to apply some more deodorant and change your short sleeve shirt before shoving your feet back into your shoes. You headed out of the tent, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did so.

The very last traces of the sunrise were still in the sky from the little that you could see, but it was definitely morning. Looking around, you spotted Jeno standing a little further away from the tent, holding his hand out towards a lower-hanging branch. You wouldn’t have quite been able to reach it yourself, but he could. Perched atop the branch was a bright blue bird, eating right out of his hand. Your eyes widened just a little at this, though you were too tired to be terribly surprised.

Watching him feed the bird for a little longer, you felt your chest swell. His hair was messy, not having fixed his bedhead yet; a peaceful hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; his big, round, eyes watched the bird eat with a certain simple happiness that for some reason had tears threatening to well up in your own.

You opened your mouth to call out to him, but instead a hoarse croak came out, one that made the bird take off in a flurry of blue feathers and fear. Jeno’s head whipped around to look at the source of the noise, you, and a bright grin came to his features.

“Morning, Y/N,” his voice was even deeper from sleep as he greeted you. He didn’t even seem mad that you’d scared off the bird.

As he approached you, the swell in your chest continued to the point where it hurt, and your vision started going blurry from the tears building up. Jeno’s expression changed to one of concern as he seemed to notice your moist eyes the closer that he got.

“Wh—”

You’d finally gone insane, you’d decided. Absolutely bonkers, completely crazy. After all, how else would you explain the fact that you were now kissing Jeno?

With your hands gripping at his shirt to bring his mouth down to yours, you kissed him like you’d been sick for your whole life and his lips were the cure. All the voices in your head finally shut up, your chest decompressed, and a single tear ran down your face.

He immediately kissed you back, but his hands seemed unsure of what to do, gingerly resting on your arms, featherlight as they hovered there. As if he was afraid that he’d break you, despite the force with which you had crashed your mouth to his.

When you let yourself come back down—and also breathe—you loosened your grip on Jeno’s shirt, releasing him from the slightly hunched position he had been in. Slowly, you brought one of your hands down to wipe away the lone tear.

Jeno was looking at you with a tilted head. “Well, that wasn’t very professional.”

A strangled chuckle escaped your mouth as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said softly, a gentle hand coming to cup your cheek, urging you to look back up at him. And when you did, he lightly brushed his lips against yours. A tender ghost of a kiss, one that didn’t last long as Jeno ended it almost as soon as he’d started it.

Opening your eyes, you saw a nearly silly grin spread across his face, precious giggles bubbling up. His smile was contagious, one gracing your mouth as well.

“Is this going to ruin the integrity of your article?” He asked, still smiling down at you. “If you want this to be a thing, of course.”

“I do, I do,” you nodded fervently, a great weight lifted off your soul now that you let yourself admit that. “I’ll tell Ms. Zhang and see what she wants to do about the articles. Until then, we’ve got to lay low.”

“Movie nights,” he immediately surmised.

Quite liking the idea, you agreed, “Yeah, movie nights.”

The doors opened to the VIP lounge, where you had agreed to meet Jeno after your meeting with your boss. It was almost two weeks after you’d returned from what NingNing was now definitely referring to as your ‘romantic getaway,’ which you couldn’t argue. Most of those two weeks was spent by you finalizing your second article, not wanting to tell Ms. Zhang about how that trip had really gone until after you had work to show for it.

Jeno was waiting for you, already standing up and pacing the small room nervously. He seemed more worried about this than you were, despite it really being your career on the line and not his.

You made a beeline to wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest, and he immediately reciprocated it, holding you closely and pecking the crown of your head.

“Hey, how’d it go?” His gentle tone of voice betrayed his assumptions that it was bad.

Bringing your face out of his chest in order to look up at him, you squealed, “She’s still going to publish them!”

“Ah!” He cried out, tightening his grip on you until it was practically bone-crushing. “I knew it! I knew you were just so good she would have to publish your articles.”

You elaborated, practically buzzing with excitement, “Because I kept out the uh, more private details of the trip and focused on you and the trip itself, she says that it ties up the loose end from the first one nicely. Although, she did recommend not going public until after the second article was out.”

“But you won’t get fired if we don’t abide by that recommendation, right?”

“No, I won’t,” you reassured him, happiness fluttering in your chest as he pecked your forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting him peck your lips too before you spoke up. “I do think she’s right, though, we should wait a while to go out in public as a couple.”

Jeno clearly didn’t like that idea, sighing in reply, “Why?”

“It’s been less than a month, what if you decide you don’t like me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but he took it seriously, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then finally your mouth, “Impossible.”

After a moment, he relented, “Alright. I waited two months, another one or so shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Actually, she’s publishing the second article in a special edition that’ll come out two weeks after the first, not a month.”

“I can wait three weeks.”

And wait three weeks he did. Three weeks exactly. Twenty-one days after your conversation in the VIP lounge, two days after your second article hit the shelves, Jeno picked you up for your first public date. This time, you let him come up and get you—your roommate wasn’t home to bother you—and he left his hat and face mask at home.

“Hi Jeno,” you greeted him as you opened the door.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, wasting no time in lacing your fingers together as you walked to the elevator.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your apartment building, whatever resolve he had broke down, and he smooched your cheek loudly. You giggled at the gesture, squeezing his hand to let him know that you were okay with it. After all, you’d made the poor guy wait longer than he should have, some PDA was in order.

The date was at a small café a few blocks over, within walking distance. Which you were sure Jeno appreciated, having a longer time to be out in public with you, never once letting go of your hand or without physical contact with you. He had to let everybody know that you were dating, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was so ecstatic to be dating you.

At the café, you ordered up at a front counter, and the cashier asked, “Together or separate?”

“Together!” Jeno replied brightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You leaned over to murmur to him, “She means, are we paying together or separate?”

“Together!” He repeated.

Squinting up at him for a moment, you didn’t argue it, letting him take the check for both of you. Although you did take a few crumpled bills out of your wallet to drop into the tip jar. After getting your food, you eagerly dug in, a light and amicable conversation had between bites.

“So you really waited exactly three weeks, huh?” You teased him.

“The second article came out two days ago, I think that’s plenty of time for everyone to read it,” he defended himself.

“It took you five days to read it.”

He seemed about ready to quip something back when a muffled chorus of squeals cut him off. You took a brief glance around, eyes landing on a group of teenage girls standing just outside the window that you were seated by. They weren’t uncomfortably close, but it was clear what had made them so excited.

Jeno ducked his head shyly as he raised a hand to acknowledge them, only setting their nervous titters off again. This situation was eerily familiar, déjà vu washing over you.

But this time, you were kind of glad that he had left his mask and hat at home, and that he’d chosen a table by the window.

Because your heart soared as you were once again reminded of who exactly the man in front of you was. Not just a model who was known internationally, with fans who would recognize him out and about, with a career and life that was under the public gaze constantly, but also a cute, sweet, funny guy named Lee Jeno.

You could do that. You could subject yourself to that. It would be fine as long as you had Jeno with you.

With the girls still watching the two of you, you reached a hand out across the table towards him. Thankfully, he took your lead, picking it up before pressing a few tender kisses to your fingers. Hopefully the girls got the message that this was romantic and private, and nothing else.

A dating rumor with Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life. Lee Jeno was absolutely the one thing you needed in your life.

“Jeno?” You called for his attention, ignoring the gaggle of fans outside the window.

“Yes?” He focused on you, squeezing your hand.

“I have a question…”

“I thought the interview was over,” he pouted teasingly.

“It is, I swear.” You lifted your linked hands pointedly. “I just… There’s something that’s kind of been nagging at me, about the interview.”

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Like, I remember at our first interview session, you thought I was just going to ask you all the normal stuff about celebrity crushes and stuff.”

“You remember what I said, about my parents’ shop? How I used to help out there?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When NingNing brought you to the lounge, and you said that thing about you being a normal person, and me being a supermodel, and how you weren’t comfortable around me because of that, it really hit me. I-I really hated that.”

“Jeno, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s not your fault,” he insisted. “It’s nobody’s fault, that’s just how it is, how our culture is, or whatever. But I hated that you felt like that around me. Because I didn’t use to be like that. I used to be a normal person, too. And I just thought that if you and I had met a few years ago, when I was working in my parents’ shop or something, I could’ve talked to you like a normal guy, and I would’ve been able to put you at ease and flirt with you like a normal person. Instead of having to do it in the most roundabout way like I did this time.”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, you would’ve still been a stupidly attractive register boy, Jeno. I might’ve been a bit tongue-tied if we had met back then, too.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“I guess not,” you clicked your tongue. “Though that would’ve been an even better meet-cute than me saying you looked like a dog.”

“Oh, so we’re not telling that story to our kids?”

“Kids?!” You sputtered out. “When did kids enter the equation here, Lee Jeno?”

“What? Who said that?” He blinked at you innocently.

“At least say the L-word first, jeez.”

“I love you.”

“Christ, I was joking!”

“I wasn’t!”

You shook your head, unable to fight off the smitten grin on your lips. “I love you too, Jeno. You crazy son of a bitch.”

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