#;; I HAVE SOME DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS I NEED TO ANSWER!! that have been buzzing around in my brain!!! WHICH I WILL TOTALLY ANSWER AS WELL!

[weebsinstash]

In your Cecil work, you mentioned how he’s seen reader naked with all monitors and stuff. But to be a little freaky/sinful, has he seen them also pleasuring themselves? I can only imagine the amount of murder he’d be willing to do for the unfortunates who decide to comment their enjoyment. If not if they have those Superman abilities, do you think they knew they were being spied on and took someone home to bone to mess with him.

You know how in the first season Cecil straight up tells Mark something along the lines of "the GDA knows everything about you, from your daily routine to the porn you jack off to". Well :)

Imagine in a "Nolan's child who hides their powers" scenario, or I guess just in general as a viltrumite/alien hybrid or someone who the government was always keeping tabs on for whatever reason, you suddenly develop your powers, but also, something more, and you can suddenly hear the buzzing and electrical hertz of the hidden cameras in your room. Like... what the fuck do you even do in response to that

God... god... remember in Death Note where Light predicted he was being watched by the police so he would do shit like read dirty magazines to maintain his cover of "behaving like a normal young man". Imagine you making the realization that like ... you had a daily or some real specific masturbation habit and you're like "oh fuck, I can't suddenly change what I'm doing or it might tip them off that I know something or make them suspicious"

Reader begrudgingly continuing to jack off like normal and you KNOW people are watching, for survival's sake. Reader having their first real conversation with Cecil as he's touring you through the GDA and you finally go "no bullshit" and hit him with the bluntness question possible, "so are you one of the men who watches the cameras in my bedroom or has it been someone else watching me masturbate" and it actually manages to make him stutter and stumble to answer

Cecil literally ordering everyone else out of the room whenever they're watching the footage and he knows you're about to jerk off, because, he's obsessed enough with you that not only does he see it as "protecting your modesty" but also he literally cannot stand knowing other people are seeing you in such an... intimate and vulnerable state. He's protecting you, obviously :) he's not a pervert, he promises--

Cecil having the utmost pokerface as he watches you pleasure yourself but his cheeks are still-- actually, he's technically covered in a synthetic skin so COULD HE even blush??? We're gonna pretend he does. Cecil trying to be all stonefaced but he can't stop his face from turning red and the way you manage to make him sweat

Ngl... I really like the idea of Reader who, upon unlocking their powers, basically becomes like, you took the fucking pill from Limitless and you become this, super memory unlocked brain capacity genius and you quickly pick up on how Cecil's heart rate increases whenever he talks to you and you compare it to, say, how he treats "equal threats" like Mark and Omniman and you quickly form the hypothesis he's got some weird crush on you. Maybe you test your theory out or try to trip him up by, say, hitting on another member of the Guardians or another superhero. Your superhearing picking up Cecil grinding his teeth from the other side of the room as you make some flirtatious inappropriate comment to a coworker or hero/alien you just met. I'd be out here giggling twirling a piece of hair around a finger, "so, is there a Mrs Battle Beast?" as Cecil then creates some diversion or reason to pull you away. "There's a mudslide in the Philippines and we need you to help the search and rescue efforts" "but you guys never ask me to help with shit like that?" "Just shut up and follow me"

Some... lose-lose scenario where you try to defy Cecil and the GDA and he won't let you and fabricates some justification for locking you away or putting some sort of method of control on or in you. You being completely restrained as Cecil tells you it's for your own good, for the planet's own good, until you "can calm down and see the light" and you can tell he's... suspiciously into it as he sees you completely at his mercy, even reaching out to touch your face, or even... other parts of you.

Donald just out here, "sir I brought you the documents you requested and-- sir do you have an erection watching the new recruit??? Are you peeping on their bedroom again??" "Shut up, Donald. Get your glasses fixed and do your damn job. I'm just watching them fight a giant alien monster"

You can't deny Cecil gets results, so everyone who has suspicions that he's being a lil... freaky... just has to put up with it or convince themselves they're imagining it, but... they're not :)

[dragonshoardofworks]

Reincarnation Everlasting Trio Part 3 (DPxDC)

[I wanted to post this on White Day to pair it up with the first part that came out on Valentine's Day, but I confused the dates thinking it coincided with 🔪Stabby Day🔪 (the Ides of March), sooo... Sorry?] (^～^;)ゞ(シ_ _)シ

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you're here) | Part 4

Danny doesn't know why he's so antsy. 

…Correction, he does know, but just doesn't want to acknowledge it.

If Jazz were here, she would have said that he was developing a codependency with Tucker-now-Damian, so being apart for a while would do them good. And she would have been annoyingly right, but she's not here, so Danny is allowed to be antsy. 

Oh, he saw right through Alfred's attempts at distracting him, but given that it was an honest effort and the butler did need a hand, Danny had accepted to help.

But now his Core is incessantly buzzing at him to go and join his future boyfriend (as they had both agreed to wait for Sam before making anything official). And Danny… doesn't know if this is just his normal anxiety or if it’s some sort of ghost instinct/power he knows nothing about. Last time he had ignored a symptom, it had resulted in him freezing from the inside out as his Ice Core had developed, so it's hard to ignore this. 

And this is why, as a particularly high spike of this anxiety shakes his Core while Alfred is putting the cookies in the oven for the post-patrol, Danny yeets himself out of the Manor and starts searching for Robin. 

Something is guiding him in midtown, so he follows without question. Putting on the modified Fenton Phone on, he intercepts the Bats’ signal (or better, Babs had left the channel open for him whenever he needed it) and catches the coda of Robin saying «...to be mutually exclusi-» before the announcement of Joker's break out stalls his Core, making him go faster instead of freezing. 

Why does it always have to be circus freaks?!

…And why does it always have to be exploding fast food joints!? Phantom asks himself as soon as he sees his People on the roof of the Batburgers at the same time as Hiereus announces the bombs’ placement.

After that, Danny's memory is a blur, images superimposing themselves one over the other, as the cackle of his evil future self echoes in his ears along the boom.

Had he lost them again?

🎆🎆🎆

Antheia thinks she's living an out of body experience, since nothing could have compared to the utter madness of this night. Being dumped by the only person in the whole universe that understands her on a molecular level hurts more than any rejection she had experienced in her whole life and will have beyond combined.

The fifteen-years-old girl should have never allowed someone in her heart and given him so much power over her. And the most pathetic thing about this is that she has lost against an unknown boy. If it wasn’t for that particular detail, Thea would have raged against Robin about what her rival has more than her, when the answer is obvious. 

Then the news of the megalomaniac escaping and having access to bombs seems like the shitty cherry on the compost cake, only to be topped by the realization that she’s too far away from any plant that could have taken them away from the danger and…!

Green staring directly into her soul is everything and the only thing that her brain registers as her body feels two collisions (one after the other) and the following whiplash of terminal velocity stopping not even a second later. 

The whole world and the Green (as in the flora) itself could be burning to the ground and Thea wouldn’t have noticed since she’s fixated on this kind of toxic green... No, ectoplasm green.

Her gasp at that tiny epiphany seems enough to make the wielder of those irises unfreeze and then thoroughly wrap himself around her (and her mom?? Someone big is definitely leaning on her in the ghostly cocoon). Not even a second later tears wet her shoulder and their bundle is shaken by sobs, as their saviour is taken over by hysterics. But why…?

“Heeey, Danny, it’s okay, you made it in time this time. You saved them.” Wiggling makes the girl be able to look over the shoulder of the sobbing ghost and gasp at the sight: a teenager about Robin’s age is hovering beside them (with Batman under his arm like a bedragged puppy), dressed in an inverted version of the sidekick’s suit, but his features are completely different from what she expects. Gone are the middle-eastern somatic traits, as they are replaced by afro-american ones with white dreadlocks and the very same ectoplasmic green eyes of the unknown savior. 

“Tucker?” The name escapes unbidden from her lips, but immediately it feels right and everything rushes back.

In the meantime said boy does a double-take, as his eyes google-out and he splutters. “Whastg- Sam??” 

“And Jazz!” A cheerfully (with a note of unhinged hysterics) cuts through, making both (aware) teens jump and turn as much as they can towards Harley Quinn. “Guess that being the mom-friend actually made me a mom, at last!”

“What the actual fuck, Jazz! You can’t be my mom! It’s so unfair!” Thea!Sam protests, trying to wiggle in the ghost’s octopus grasp to see her better.

“I second that! Besides, Harleen Quinzel was born before the accident!” Robin!Tucker exclaims, bewildered, as the ghost squeezes the duo a bit more. “It would be a paradox!”

“I’m just good like that, then.” Harley!Jazz sniffs, in mock-self-importance. “No paradox happened when I read the letter of my past self and it even changed my life! So take that!” 

A sigh so deep that it can be felt into the bones stop any further bickering and the trio turns to look at Batman, who is holding the bridge of his nose as if it’s the last dreg of his sanity left. “While this proves to be the most beneficial development, we still need to go and catch the Joker.”

Robin!Tucker winces, looking at the ghost clinging to the reincarnations. “Good luck with that, Dad, because Danny’s not gonna let them go anytime soon. And you can bet that when he’s coherent enough again, we’re gonna be engulfed in that hug for a while, too. The thing that just happened triggered his most major trauma, soo…” He trails, gesturing to the ghost… that only now T!Sam registers as who really is and so she startles.

“Oh Ancients, Danny!” T!Sam forces the halfa to raise his face from the crook of her neck and he pliantly obliges, but he’s still crying a river and ugly sobbing. He looks like he hasn’t aged a day from his 15th birthday and that he actually matches the description of the meta-vigilante that’s attached to Robin’s hip. Guilt immediately surges inside of her for the things she has said about him during the argument on the roof and so she hugs him, tight, copied by H!Jazz.

“...Okay. Robin,” said halfa floats straighter, “we’ll leave the search and subjugation of the Joker to Nightwing and Black Bat. Can you bring us to the safehouse Tango-Uniform-Echo? That would give us at least a semblance of privacy.”

“There should be no issue.” Experimentally he pushes Phantom’s back and the group moves in the right direction, so after a nod, Robin ferries everyone in the agreed safehouse (by also turning them invisible and intangible to sneak in).

As soon as they are enclosed by the walls, Phantom uncoils a bit, just enough to let R!Tucker slip into the hug (Batman, luckily for him, manages to stay out of reach and so he’s free, but poised as a sentry), as they relocate on a king-sized bed for comfort. Danny seems to have calmed down enough to have stopped crying, but he’s dissociating now, so that leaves R!Tucker to be questioned by the girls.

“Why is he still so young? He should be at least a decade older.” H!Jazz murmurs, drying the old tears from her former-little-brother.

“...Do you remember the villain that offed us?” A flash of red eyes and fangs makes the duo shudder and Danny unconsciously hugs them tighter. “Since Danny wanted to avoid creating him, the moron decided it was better if he went Sleeping Beauty.” R!Tuck fondly pets the other’s white hair, getting a faint purr in response. “My current-life siblings and I found his capsule a few weeks ago and by waking him up, it also awakened my memories.”

“Did that make you a halfa?” T!Sam whispers, eyeing his ghost form. “And why do you look like past-you like this?”

He snickers in response. “Nah, I’m a halfa because of my grandfather and then a recent dip in an ectoplasmic pool jump-started my Core.” He looks down at himself. “Remember how Danny once said that ghosts’ appearance is derived by their self-image?” Two nods. “Since I still see myself at least half as Tucker, my ghost form reflects that. So that I can be both myselves.”

There’s a pause of silence, in which T!Sam gathers the courage to speak up. “I’m sorry about early. You did have a good reason to avoid going on full missions, I guess. Danny’s first weeks of adjustment weren’t funny.”

R!Tuck shakes his head. “I still should have said something, that’s the least you deserved. We’ve been partners in crime-fighting in both the past and current life.” He lifts her red bangs with a hand to kiss her on the forehead. “Danny and I were also searching for you, yanno? We were certain that you were stubborn enough to get yourself a new life to kick our asses again.”

T!Sam blushes up to the tip of her ears and tries to push him away with no result, since Danny is still holding tight. “Tucker Robin Foley! Who are you and what did you do to both my boys? None of them were this smooth and direct!”

R!Tuck just laughs. “Blame Danny! The moron just straight kissed me out of nowhere to shut me up! I don’t even know how he managed to convince me that the three of us won’t dance around each other this time around. Probably it was something about being too late last time and regretting it.”

“Not the Clueless One anymore, then?” H!Jazz joins in petting Danny’s hair fondly.

“Not for this, at least. I bet he’ll find other ways to make us exasperated.” R!Tuck drawls.

“That’s a sucker bet, no one will take you up to that.” T!Sam deadpans.

“TT, there are so many of them in my family they would have flocked at the chance, I tell you.”

“...Did you just make a bird pun?” A rough voice just above of a whisper breaks the brief quiet deadpan spell and the three of them turn to Danny, who’s blinking lethargically at R!Tuck.

“Figures that that’s what makes you come back to the land of the living, you dork.” The vigilante ruffles the other halfa’s hair fondly. “How do you feel?”

“Drained.” Danny goes to rub his eyes with a hand, but finds both of them still gripping T!Sam and H!Jazz’s clothes. He frowns in confusion and looks up at the woman and girl, then stares at them uncomprehending. After a second of rebooting, he turns to R!Tuck, still confused. “Why am I clinging to your crush and her mom?”

While the “stabby” Robin chokes at the statement, H!Jazz snickers then outright cackles in unhinged glee, while T!Sam processes the whole thing. What is her life?

“OMG, your nonexisting mouth-filter while exhausted is still the same!” H!Jazz replaces the other’s boy hand on the (confused) white head, whose owner looks at her owlishly. Her mirth gives way to fondness and bittersweetness. “I’m glad that some things never change, after all, little brother.”

Tentatively, with hope in his eyes, a more alert Danny whispers “Jazz?” and that spurs T!Sam to be included.

“Yeah, can you believe that, Danny? Being saved by your Sleeping Beauty ass just to discover that your sister is now my mom? What’s next, Mr. Lancer reincarnated as Superman?” 

“Please, don’t even joke about that! It’s bad enough that he flirts with Father, I can’t add this to the folder as well!” (In the background Batman silently chokes like his son has done a few seconds before. Clark does what??)

(Ignoring the banter, Danny silently takes in T!Sam's appearance –the blood red hair, the sky blue eyes, the greenish sheen on her pale skin, the dormant humm inside her chest–, but, above everything else, the familiar signature of her soul, which, like Harley’s, brings a pang of nostalgia for the Before.)

Before T!Sam can continue to tease her friend, she’s engulfed into another hug along with her mom, this time more coherent, but with the same urgency and desperation that had been before. 

With a fond sigh H!Jazz hugs back, while T!Sam strokes his back as Danny nuzzles into her shoulder. They stay silent for a while before he starts to chuckle.

At the general “uhm?”, Danny leans back with wet eyes, but still no new tears spilled. “I should have guessed that Tucker’s new life’s crush couldn’t have been anyone else other than you, he is predictable like that!”

“Danny! Stop exposing me like this! I still have a reputation to maintain among my brothers!” R!Tuck protests indignantly.

“What reputation?” Danny chortles. “Why do you think I know about ‘Blossom’ and how far gone you were for her in the first place before I came?”

“Greyson…” R!Tuck growls with the same venom of the “Dinkleberg”-meme.

“Not even the worst offender! Hiereus and Spoiler are such gossiping old ladies that they took me up to speed with probably everything after they kidnapped me for their shovel talk.” As the reincarnated trio gapes, Danny hums in thought. “That and making me part of the betting pool definitely took away points from their intimidation factor, tho. Pity, because at that point it had been a solid 8.”

“Who gave the best one?” H!Jazz, still bewildered, asks in genuine curiosity.

“Agent A, who else?” Danny turns to Batman who already suspected that. “Batdad, your dad is the scariest mortal that I’ve ever met, I still can’t get how he didn’t beat into submission my evil future self in the other timeline.” He rambles, probably to hide his nerves like he always did in the Before. (B almost snorts at the familiarity that Danny uses with him, already used to it after weeks of knowing him but refrains because he's worried about the deflection.) “If the Long Now is in mood for letting us visit, we could ask CW about it when we’ll go to the InfiRe for your check up. I mean, if we promise we won’t change anything it’s like watching a show, right?”

“Danny.” T!Sam cradles his face and he immediately shuts up, suddenly meek. “What are you afraid of?”

It takes him a minute of looking anywhere but them, before he caves, wilting like a flower. “...This feels too good to be true. I don’t want it to be a coma dream.”

“It just looks like that because Karma is giving back what you earned, Danny.” R!Tuck gives him a kiss on the temple and he leans in the gesture, slightly blushing green.

“Yeah, just for the whole Christmas Trauma, we should be rewarded, I swear.” H!Jazz huffs, getting a small smile from Danny. (Progress!)

“When you put it like that…” 

“Hush, ya know that I'm right-a, I've got the whole doctorate now to prove it!” The Harley in Jazz shows up with her smugness.

“Oh Green, you're right!” T!Sam is properly distressed, as the boys catch up.

“And she's also your mother now, so you can't escape from being psychoanalyzed anymore, Bloss!” R!Tuck shakes her in horror.

“Wait wait wait, how is this even possible? Isn’t your mom Poison Ivy?” Danny interrupts the escalated (dramaqueen-esque) freak out and gestures to all of her.

T!Sam squints at him in suspicion. “Didn’t his siblings tell you all the gossip?”

“Well, yeah, but most of what Hiereus knew were deductions and conspiracy theories. And this disaster of a halfa was worse than a tomb about being silent on you, when I tried to breach the subject! He just added more credibility to the crush-theory since he was trying to hoard you!” Danny points at R!Tuck, who groans and blushes green.

“TT, maybe I just wanted to be in perfect control of my powers before introducing her to you.” R!Tuck mumbles, crossing his arms.

“You wanted to show off!” T!Sam accuses, pointing into his face. He leans back, huffing, bright green in embarrassment but not refusing the statement. She then sighs deeply, facepalming with both hands. “You’re such an idiot, why do I love you is beyond me, may Green save me.” She says, muffled, unknowingly making the boys jolt in interest and hope.

They look at one another, confirming having heard her, so then they lean over.

“But we’re your idiots, so that checks out?” R!Tuck rests his forehead on hers, making her peek at him over her fingers.

She huffs and glances to the side where Danny is waiting silently and hopeful (never demanding, always waiting on the sidelines, too selfless for his own good). “Okay, fine, my idiots.” She lowers her hands and slightly headbutts R!Tuck. “But you owe me so many explanations and secrets to make us even!”

“Of course!” R!Tuck agrees readily, but to her it’s still not enough, feels almost too easy.

“And at least three steaks! That’s non-negotiable!” She growls, making the other grimace, but nod.

The loudest gasp ever heard from Danny shakes the duo apart to look at him questioningly. Being a halfa gives several advantages, among which the body manipulation, so his jaw is actually touching the bed with how much it has dropped. “SAM!” Danny shrieks when he finally gets a hold on himself (and her shoulders). “Are you actually a carnivore??”

The world tilts on its axis as Antheia and Samantha realign themselves and the girl chokes on nothing as realization strikes. “Oh Ancients, I am! It’s mama’s fault and she’s even right, I can’t go back as a vegan! It destroys the ecosystems!”

That seems to be the last straw as Danny and her mom (Jazz! She’s Jazz, oh no, oh no) start to cackle, unhinged, while R!Tucker whines that they actually switched places with reincarnation, how was that even possible…!

(Yet, neither Antheia nor Samantha regret getting this second chance to start again with her boys, despite the clear differences. No one will be able to tear them apart from one another again now.)

[rainbowsky]

Hey RBS.. Wishing you a wonderful week ahead. Do you think Globalfever fansite is being managed directly by someone from GG/DD’s team. Many a times I wonder how that site able to get tickets to all of our boys events and capture such close up candid shots of GGDD unless she is part of their inner circle?

Example today - https://weibo.com/7320958826/OydEkDN0w

not sure if it’s original or edited.. from that video it looks like XZ acknowledged her words of Jiayou and bye bye

Hi Natashayishan, thanks! I hope you're well, and that you have a wonderful week too! 😊

Here's the video for those who don't have access to Weibo.

To answer this question I'm going to start by explaining a bit of background about fansites and how they function (I'm by no means an expert, but here's my understanding of how it all works).

Part 1 - Fansites in General

There has been a lot of talk about fansites over the years, and some have faced accusations, criticisms, confusion, suspicions, theories both positive and negative for a very long time. I think they're largely misunderstood by a lot of fans.

For example, it's not uncommon for people to believe fansites are stalkers, or that they shamelessly profit from the unauthorized use of a star's image or footage, or that they're organizations that exist for the purpose of exploiting stars.

This isn't really how it works at all. In general, a fansite is just one fan who follows a star's career and enjoys sharing photos and videos they take of that star. Plain and simple. Some fansites involve more than one person, but most are just made up of individuals.

Yes, they sometimes make money selling photo books and other merch, but that money tends to go back into supporting the star -buying endorsement products, arranging events and giveaways, buying or upgrading equipment needed to create fansite content (cameras, computer equipment, software), paying for tickets (many of which are overpriced reseller tickets) and travel/accommodations to attend events, etc.

It might seem glamorous - and there's undeniably a glamorous aspect to it - but to me it looks very stressful, like a huge headache. These fans generally have their own lives and careers outside of fandom, so coordinating everything, waiting in lines, standing in the rain outside appearances and events, not to mention the pressure to attend events and post regular updates, and all the haters and antis they are constantly dealing with, the amount of stress and frustration they deal with must be immense.

It's a lot of work, and for this reason, fansites don't always stay fansites. Some retire as their real life interests and obligations shift. One of my favorite GGDD fansites - Midnight Dream - retired a few years ago. 😢

Fansites are an important part of any celebrity's support system. While no - they aren't part of a celebrity's team or on their payroll, they do play a huge part in helping to bring attention to a star and build buzz around them, their projects, their appearances, events and other activities.

If you want an analogy that might help it make more sense to you, just look at some of the sports fans across the globe who will follow all the matches, follow team developments, team picks, managers and training, and share all that info on blogs, podcasts or dedicated sports fan sites.

This is very similar. They're just really dedicated fans who build a following by being where we can't be, and sharing their experiences so that we can feel like we were there, too.

And they provide the fans and the stars an immense, immeasurable service IMHO, despite what we might agree or disagree with about the way fandom culture works. The content they capture and share is almost always far more intimate (generally without being invasive), and of a far higher quality than that of the professionals hired to cover these events on behalf of media agencies and management.

Fansites do get some official support from time to time. For example, there are events where fansites can get approval - almost like a press pass or a security pass - to attend and be in certain locations within or near facilities to take photographs, video, etc., but they are not hired or compensated by the star or their team.

A lot of it is also largely unknown/unknowable, so it's hard to be sure of the details. There are always going to be rumors and claims. For example, there have been claims that during SDOC Yibo was allowed to invite 4 fansites to come to the finale, and of the 4, he chose 3 BXG fansites and only one solo site. I haven't seen proof of that, but the claim was making the rounds a lot at the time.

One thing we do know - he chose a fansite photo to give to Yangkai when he was courting him to join his team in season 4. (Of course, solos made a huge stink and Youku ended up editing the footage to remove the photo, but we saw what we saw).

There are other examples of GG and DD interacting with or showing acceptance of their BXG fansites. I started looking for some references and then realized it was not something I have time for or interest in. I'm not here to give a comprehensive analysis anyway, I'm just here to give a simple-ish answer to your question. If others want to discuss that in the notes, that's fine.

So, hopefully some of that background info will have answered parts of your question, and gives you more tools to evaluate things on your own moving forward.

Part 2 - Global Fever

As for Global Fever specifically, well... Global Fever is one of the most treasured BXG in the entire fandom. This dedicated fan has been following GG and DD BOTH, since they debuted. She is more than just a CP fan, she's been a supporter of their individual careers since day 1.

Yes, since back when Yibo was still the White Peony.

She became a CP fan in the natural way - by seeing her faves work together on The Untamed, by watching them interact and by following them and their careers. No, she doesn't work for their teams (they both have dedicated teams of their own, and they don't need to pay fansites who - after all - will do this stuff for free). It's just that she's recognizable to GG and DD because she's been a fixture in their lives for so many years.

And this is something solos need to get their heads around: BXG are fans too. I think there's this conceit among solos that THEY'RE GG and DD's fans and BXG are something else, but in reality (and, no doubt, in the eyes of GG and DD) BXG are their fans too.

Never could that be more apparent than when a dedicated fan like Global Fever jiejie is calling 'Zhanzhan, jiayou!' and 'byebye!' as he's boarding an elevator on the way to the stage. Of course GG recognized her and smiled at her. Of course.

[ceyanabbiolo]

CONTRACT // C.S [09]

Summary: Christopher Sturniolo, a 26-year-old billionaire CEO, agrees to a strategic marriage with Aurora Devereaux, the 21-year-old daughter of his rival, to save his company during a crisis. Raised in a cold, arrogant environment, Chris is used to control and detachment. Aurora, a final-year fashion student, is forced into the arrangement by her powerful father and struggles with the fear of losing herself. As the two navigate their unexpected marriage, they begin to confront emotional walls and develop a connection that challenges everything they thought they knew about love and trust. But with their families’ influence looming, will their bond be strong enough to survive—or will it fall apart?

warnings: argument, kissing, slightly suggestive

wc: 6474

Chapter 9: Your mine

The hotel room was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from my laptop screen and the faint glow of Milan’s skyline outside the window. It was around 6 PM, and I was nearing the end of my third day here. The same routine had played out every single day: checking up on the businesses, making sure the factories were running smoothly, handling emails, meetings, and reports. The usual grind.

I could’ve gone back to Boston today, but I decided against it. Another two days of peace, at least.

The hum of a Celtics game played in the background, but my attention was elsewhere. My phone buzzed, and an unknown number flashed on the screen, followed by a single notification: one image.

I didn’t think much of it at first. Probably spam. But something in my gut twisted, and before I could talk myself out of it, I opened the message.

My blood ran cold.

It was a picture of my fiancee, sitting on a couch next to some fucker at a party. 

Too many questions were running through my head. 

Who the hell is that guy? Never seen him before, and he was way too close for my liking. What the hello was she doing at a party? When was this? Where the fuck was she now. Why was she even there? She hates parties.

I didn’t waste a second. I pressed the call button.

One ring. Two.

Then the call connected.

"Hello?" Her voice was dripping with sweetness, fake as hell.

"Who the fuck is this?" I snapped, my voice low and sharp, the anger already bubbling inside me.

She let out a laugh, slow and smug, like she knew exactly what she was doing. "Relax, Chris. It’s Hailee."

Of course, it was her. Of fucking course.

I clenched my jaw so hard, it hurt, trying to hold back the anger that threatened to spill over.

"You’ve got ten seconds to explain what the hell you want before I block your number," I growled, every word coated in venom.

She laughed again, unfazed. "I just thought you’d want to know what your sweet little fiancée has been up to while you’re off playing businessman. Didn’t realize she was still so... friendly with old flames."

My stomach turned, an unfamiliar protectiveness taking over. I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table.

"You don’t know shit about her," I said, my voice low and lethal, each word dripping with warning.

"Maybe not," she purred. "But from what I remember... You don’t exactly like being made a fool of, Chris."

I scoffed, the anger inside me growing by the second. "Listen…" I let out a breath, trying to steady myself. "We hooked up a few times. That’s it. It was nothing more than a mutual arrangement. I made it clear to you, Hailee. It was purely beneficial, and you know that."

“I'm just looking out for you, Chris,” she said sweetly. 

I didn’t have the patience for this. I didn’t need her twisted words any longer. Without another thought, I ended the call.

I threw my phone onto the bed, frustration coursing through my veins like poison. My eyes darted to the clock — it was nearly 6 pm in Milan, meaning it was noon in Boston. Aurora should’ve been awake by now.

I didn’t waste any more time. I immediately dialed Ana, the housekeeper. The phone rang twice before she picked up.

"Hello, sir?" Ana answered with her usual calm voice.

"Ana, where’s Aurora?" I asked, my tone sharp, not bothering to hide my irritation.

"Oh, Mr. Sturniolo, she and her friend came in late last night, sir," Ana responded, her voice soft but respectful. "They’ve been sleeping since about 3 am, I believe."

I felt a wave of irritation wash over me. "So, they came back that late?" I pressed. "Was there any sign of her doing something... out of the ordinary before they went to bed?"

Ana hesitated for a moment before answering, "Not that I noticed, sir. They were both fine when they came in. I didn’t hear any disturbances."

I could feel my jaw tightening. This wasn’t sitting right with me. "And what about this morning? Did Aurora seem different at all?"

"She seemed... fine, sir," Ana said carefully. "I haven't spoken with her directly today, though."

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to keep my cool. "Alright, Ana. Just... keep an eye out, please. Let me know if anything changes."

"Of course, sir. I'll let you know."

I hung up, still seething. Something didn’t add up. I had half a mind to fly back to Boston that instant, but I needed answers from her — real answers, not from some cryptic photo or Hailee’s taunting. I would wait until I saw her face-to-face. When I did, she’d be explaining everything. 

I paced the hotel room, each step making the tension in my chest feel worse. The anger was like a thick fog, clouding my mind and making it hard to focus. I hadn’t expected this. Not from her. Not from my fiancée.

The image of Aurora, sitting on the couch with some guy—someone I didn’t know—kept flashing in my mind. I didn’t recognize him, and it pissed me off even more. She looked too comfortable with him. She laughed. Her body language. It was too much.

I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening with each passing second. I didn’t know who the hell this guy was, and frankly, I didn’t care. What pissed me off was that she was there at that party, out with someone like that while I was stuck here, doing work that was technically already done. The meetings, the reports, everything—it was finished. But I wasn’t finished. Not with her.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Lila, my assistant, barely giving it a second thought. The phone rang twice, and then her voice came through, calm and professional as always.

"Yes, Mr. Sturniolo?"

“Cancel everything,” I snapped. “I’m done here. Get me on a flight back to Boston, ASAP. I want to be home by midnight.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Sir, but your last meeting isn't until—”

“I don’t care about the damn meeting. I’m done,” I cut her off, my frustration building. “Get me a flight. Midnight. No excuses.”

I could practically hear her sigh on the other end of the line, but she didn’t argue. “Understood. I’ll have the arrangements made.”

“Good,” I said, my voice sharp. I ended the call and shoved the phone into my pocket.

I wasn’t wasting any more time here. Work was done. There was no reason for me to stay in Milan and brood over things.

I stormed around the room, packing my things quickly, as if the sooner I got on the plane, the sooner I could figure this all out. I didn’t even know what I was walking back home, but I had to get there. I couldn’t just let this go.

I couldn’t let her be out there, in a situation like that, with some random guy I didn’t know. Whatever the hell was going on, I was going to find out. And she was going to answer for it.

I headed for the elevator, the anger simmering inside me, knowing that when I got back to Boston, I was going to have one hell of a conversation with Aurora.

It didn’t matter if Aurora and I weren't in love, but it sure as hell mattered how we both acted if this engagement was to seem real. 

An hour went by in a buzz, and by 7:30 PM, I was seated in my jet and taking off. 

I calmed myself by letting myself believe Aurora had a rational explanation for all this, and praying that the photo of her at the party didn't get sent to anyone.

The jet touched down just after 1:00 AM Boston time.

By the time I made it through the airport’s private exit and into the black SUV waiting for me, my blood was at a full simmer. Every wasted minute between Milan and Boston had given me more time to overthink, more time to get pissed off.

The drive home was a blur. I barely registered the empty streets or the cool October air seeping through the cracked window. All I could think about was Aurora — and the fact that the woman I was supposed to marry was out at some fucking party, sitting next to some random guy, while I was halfway across the world.

The gates opened slower than I had patience for, but I forced myself to stay calm. I parked, grabbed my bag, and walked up the driveway. Every step felt heavier.

As soon as I pushed the door open, a soft glow spilled from the living room.

I stilled.

Someone was awake.

Quietly, I set my bag down in the foyer, shrugging off my jacket. My steps were soundless as I moved toward the light.

And then I saw her.

Aurora was curled up on the couch, barefoot, wearing one of those oversized sweaters she loved. A thick book was open in her lap, her hair falling around her face as she turned a page, completely unaware of me standing there.

Something sharp twisted in my chest.

She looked so fucking innocent sitting there — like she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the emotion down. I couldn't afford to let her looks cloud the situation.

"Aurora," I said, my voice cutting through the silence.

She jumped, her head snapping up. Her eyes widened when she saw me — surprise flickering across her face, then confusion.

"Chris?" she said, setting the book down. "What— you’re back?"

I nodded once, stepping further into the room.

"Yeah," I said coldly. "Trip’s over."

I watched her closely — the way she shifted, the way her hands nervously tugged at the sleeve of her sweater.

"You didn't tell me you were coming back early," she said, her voice softer now, guarded.

"Didn't feel like there was a point," I replied, my voice sharp. "Seems like you were keeping yourself plenty busy while I was gone."

Her mouth parted slightly, confusion flashing in her eyes.

"Chris, what are you talking about?"

I crossed my arms, the anger barely held back now.

"You want to explain why I got sent a picture of you all cozy next to some guy at a party?"

Her face paled.

I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I just waited, and the longer she stayed silent, the harder it was to pretend I wasn’t already pissed off beyond belief.

Her brows pulled together, genuine confusion flashing across her face.

"What guy?" she asked, her voice small but laced with honest bewilderment.

I didn’t move. My arms stayed crossed, my stare locked on her. "Don’t play dumb, Aurora."

She blinked, like she was scrambling to piece things together. "I... I was at the party with Jen ," she said slowly, searching my face. "We danced, we ate— I don't—"

Then something clicked. Her face shifted.

"Wait... are you talking about Mason?" she asked, like the idea was ridiculous.

Mason.

My jaw ticked. The name meant nothing to me, but just hearing another man's name come out of her mouth made something snap inside me.

I took a step forward, my voice low and sharp. "Who the fuck is Mason?"

Aurora’s eyes widened slightly, taken back by the bite in my tone. She held her hands up like she was trying to calm me down.

"Nobody," she rushed out. "He’s no one, Chris. Just some guy I used to know from high school. He sat next to me for like two minutes — that’s it."

"Used to know?" I repeated, my voice rising. "And he just shows up at some party you're at while I'm out of the fucking country? And you're sitting there with him, like it’s a damn reunion?"

She flinched.

"It wasn’t like that," she insisted, her voice trembling with urgency. "I didn’t even want to talk to him. He just showed up and started talking. I barely said anything back."

I let out a humorless laugh, running a hand roughly through my hair, trying — failing — to calm the rage boiling under my skin.

"You think that makes it better?" I snapped. "You think it looks better that you’re just sitting there letting random assholes get cozy with you while my back’s turned?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away fast, standing her ground.

"I wasn’t being cozy with him," she said fiercely. "I didn’t want him there. I didn’t even want to be there! Jen convinced me to go, and I was sitting alone when he came over. I didn't invite him!"

I stared at her, breathing heavily, Fuck…I didn’t want to be the reason she gets a panic attack. My fists were clenched at my sides. I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to believe her so bad.

But that fucking photo kept flashing in my mind — her, looking too pretty, sitting there while some guy sat way too damn close.

"You shouldn’t have been there to begin with," I bit out. "You shouldn’t even have given anyone the chance to get near you."

Aurora’s lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she stopped herself, swallowing hard instead. Her voice came out quieter. "I just wanted one normal night."

Normal. She still didn’t get it.

"You’re not just some rich girl anymore, Aurora," I said, my voice ice-cold, every word deliberate. "You’re mine, whether you like it or not. It doesn’t matter what you think or feel. To the world, you're already my fucking wife. And I’m expected to act like your husband, to handle you, to control everything about this — because that’s what they all see.”

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy.

"You’re a grown woman, Aurora," I said, my voice laced with frustration, the tension still heavy in the air. "And I really fucking wish your father hadn’t put you in this position. But here we are." I paced, my hand running through my hair, the anger simmering beneath my skin. "I hate that it comes off like I’m trying to control your life, but the reality is, we have to accept this shit, whether we want to or not. This is our life now. And you don’t get to just ignore that."

Her face crumpled slightly, like she didn’t know whether to be angry or heartbroken.

But I didn’t back down.

Not this time.

Aurora took a shaky breath, stepping toward me like she could somehow make me understand if she just got close enough.

"I would never," she said, her voice breaking. "Chris, I would never do something like that to jeopardize this. Especially not with him. I hate Mason."

I didn’t move.

"I don’t care how it looked," she rushed out, desperate. "I wasn’t sitting there enjoying it. The second he came over, I froze up because I didn’t even know how to react."

That caught my attention. My eyes narrowed slightly. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

She swallowed, her throat bobbing. Her hands fidgeted at her sides.

"I... I don’t want to get into details," she stammered, her voice wavering as she tried to backpedal. "Everything that has to do with him happened a long time ago."

"Tell me," I demanded, my tone cold and unyielding. The weight of the words hung heavy in the room, and I wasn’t giving her an inch until I had the answers I wanted. “I’m trying to understand”. 

I looked at the hesitance on her face, before she seemed to finally crack. 

"He’s not some old friend," she muttered. "He was cruel to me. He humiliated me... made my life hell back then. Seeing him again just brought it all back. I didn’t know what to say. I didn't even want to be near him."

Her voice cracked, and for the first time tonight, my anger faltered — just slightly.

But I still couldn’t erase the image from my mind.

"You could've left," I said coldly. "You could've gotten up and walked away."

"I know," she said quickly, her eyes pleading. "I know that. I just— I was stunned. I wasn’t thinking straight. And then Jen came back and I went to her. I didn’t stay with him."

She blinked rapidly, like she was trying to keep it together in front of me.

"You have to believe me, Chris," she whispered. "I don’t even look at anyone else."

For a moment, it was just the sound of our breathing filling the space between us. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, her fists clenching so tight her knuckles were white.

I stayed silent, my chest heaving, the war inside me tearing me up — anger, protectiveness, and something deeper I wasn’t ready to name yet.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.

"Why?" I asked, my voice low but sharp. "Why was he cruel to you?"

Aurora flinched like I’d struck her. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking smaller under the weight of my stare.

She hesitated, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. "I... back in high school," she said slowly, her voice tight, "I liked him. Stupid, I know. He pretended to like me back. Asked me out in front of everyone. Told me to meet him at some restaurant."

She looked down at the floor, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

"I waited for an hour," she whispered. "He never showed. And then some girls from school—" she choked out a bitter laugh, "they showed up instead. Poured coffee all over me. Laughed in my face. The next day at school, Mason told everyone it was a joke. That no one would ever actually want me."

Silence clamped down between us, heavy and suffocating.

I felt like something inside me cracked.

The image of her — younger, humiliated, alone — made my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

I stared at her, feeling rage burn hotter in my veins than anything else tonight.

"It wasn’t just that day, there were several other things that happened with him, and you think I would ever even look at him that way?" she said, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes glistening. "I don’t care about him anymore, but it weighs on me, Chris, I hate him. I hate everything he did to me."

My jaw locked so tight it hurt. I didn't know whether I wanted to go find this Mason prick and beat the shit out of him, or pull Aurora into my arms and promise her no one would ever humiliate her again.

Maybe both, but I stayed where I was, my body rigid, my mind racing.

I didn’t have emotions. I didn’t feel comfortable. But hearing her say all that — seeing the way she shrank under the weight of it — made something deep and ugly claw up inside me.

"You should’ve told me," I muttered, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.

She shook her head quickly. "I didn’t think it mattered anymore. It was years ago. I didn’t... I didn’t want to seem weak."

Weak. Gosh, she had no idea.

There wasn’t a single thing about her that was weak.

I stared at her for a long beat, my heart hammering against my ribs, my anger still simmering just below the surface — not at her, but at the entire fucking situation. At that prick Mason. At Hailee. At myself for not being there tonight, for leaving her vulnerable to people who didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her.

"You’re not weak," I said, my voice low and certain. "Don’t ever say that shit again."

Aurora’s eyes widened a little, surprised by my tone. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but then closed it again.

I took a breath, forcing some of the rage back down. I needed to get a grip. This wasn’t the time to explode.

"You’re not going to any more parties without me," I said firmly, stepping closer. "I don’t give a shit if it was innocent. I’m not letting some asshole even think he can get close to you again."

Her lips parted slightly, clearly taken aback by the sharpness in my voice.

Maybe it wasn’t just the tone that threw her off. Maybe it was the intensity—the raw possessiveness that I couldn’t hide. I was done pretending it wasn’t there.

She gathered herself quickly, her posture stiffening, as if trying to protect herself from whatever was swirling between us. “So what? You cut your trip short to come and talk to me about this party?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

I shot her a glance and got closer.

“Yes,” I towered over her. “Yes, did.I may have not taken this seriously at the start, but one thing I take seriously is business, and you are very much my business, Aurora”. 

I watched her face redden and her pulse quicken.

“You still didn’t need to cut the trip short,” she said, her voice softer now. “I was doing fine.”

I scoffed, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “Yeah, clearly.”

She let out a long breath, her frustration palpable. “Who sent you the photo anyway?”

I hesitated for a moment, weighing whether I should tell her the truth. But what was the point in lying? I couldn't hold this back forever.

“Just someone I used to mess around with,” I muttered, hoping that would be enough.

Her brow furrowed as she processed the information. Her eyes flickered to mine, confusion crossing her face, before something seemed to click. “Hailee?”

The name hit me like a punch to the gut.

I froze, my pulse spiking. “You know her?” I asked, disbelief creeping into my voice.

Aurora’s gaze softened, her lips pressing together in a thin line. 

“I met her yesterday at the party,” she said, her voice steady, though a touch of something... bitter lingered in her tone. “She was... around. We talked for a bit.”

I raised my eyebrow, “what did she say to you?” 

I watched as she looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but trying to maintain her composure. “I met her yesterday at the party,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with something darker, something... bitter. “She was... around. We talked for a bit.”

I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. “What did she say to you?”

Aurora hesitated for a moment, before looking back at me. “She just said you two used to be close.”

The unease in her voice was undeniable, and I couldn’t help but let a sly smile tug at the corners of my lips. I stayed quiet though, letting her finish.

She shifted, clearly trying to process everything. “I’m just curious,” she started, her eyes narrowing a bit. “You mentioned you don’t do relationships, but she said you guys had something going on.”

I stepped closer, closing the space between us. “I don’t do relationships,” I said, my voice low and firm.

Aurora’s brow furrowed slightly as she processed my words. She raised an eyebrow. “And your... relationship with Hailee?”

I paused, taking in the look on her face. There was something almost fragile in her expression, like she wasn’t sure where this conversation would lead. I watched her closely as I continued.

“It was purely physical,” I said, my voice measured, deliberate.

Aurora blinked, clearly taken aback. She looked genuinely surprised—though, there was a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Oh...Oh, I see. Like... sleeping together?”

I nodded, watching her carefully. I could feel the tension shift in her. She was uneasy now, the energy between us was different than before. She was trying to process what I’d said, but something in her was rattled.

“Why does that bother you?” I smirked, sensing her discomfort, but enjoying the way her guard seemed to be slipping.

Aurora quickly shook her head, her voice quick and defensive. “No—no, I’m just asking.” She laughed nervously, but I could see the flush creeping up her neck.

I hummed in amusement as I stepped even closer, my hand coming to rest gently on the back of her neck. I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. 

“You’re blushing, ma,” I said softly, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I closed the remaining distance between us.

Her breath hitched, her eyes locking onto mine. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—something uncertain, but maybe something more. Something she wasn’t ready to admit, but I could feel it in the air between us.

“Were you guys really close?” she asked again, her voice a little tighter this time. “I mean, outside of… well, the bedroom, I guess.”

A teasing grin tugged at my lips. “Are you jealous, Aurora? Your cheeks are pink.”

She quickly looked away, her eyes flickering with something she was desperately trying to hide.

“Why would I be jealous?” she snapped, but the uncertainty in her voice gave her away.

I leaned in closer, dropping my voice to a near whisper. “I don’t know. Maybe because you care more than you’re willing to admit.”

I stepped in until her back pressed flush against the wall, her breathing shallow. The air between us practically crackled.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” I said, letting my gaze fall deliberately to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “You think about it, don’t you?”

Her chest rose and fell a little quicker, her eyes darting to the side.

“Think about what?” she asked, voice soft — almost too soft.

“The kiss,” I muttered, my voice rough against her ear. “The way your body reacted to me. You think about it when you’re alone, don’t you?”

She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched the edge of a nearby shelf. I caught the moment she faltered, the moment her defenses slipped — even if she tried to hide it by shooting me a glare.

“You’re not fooling me,” I said, my mouth brushing her ear, the words a low threat and a promise all at once.

She didn’t answer — she didn’t have to. I could feel it — the way her body leaned toward me without even meaning to.

I slid my hand into her hair, gripping it just tight enough to pull a gasp from her lips.

"You can pretend all you want," I murmured against her mouth, "but your body’s betraying you, ma."

The last shred of my self-control snapped when I caught the look in her eyes — wide, vulnerable, and begging without a single word.

Without another second of hesitation, I crushed my mouth to hers, kissing her fiercely, claiming her like I'd been dying to. She gasped into me, and I took full advantage, deepening the kiss, pressing her harder against the wall until there wasn’t an inch of space between us.

My hand gripped her waist, possessive, grounding her to me as she trembled under my touch.

I didn’t stop there — I let my mouth trail sloppily down her jaw to her neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. I heard her breath hitch, then a soft, desperate moan escape her.

"Chris…" she whispered, breathless, the sound of my name almost wrecking me.

My hand slid up, cupping the soft curve of her breast through the thin fabric. My mouth tugged at the V neckline of her sweater, my lips dangerously close to exposing more. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her chestline, the temptation gnawing at the last of my sanity.

I should stop. I knew it. But the way she submitted to my touch — the smell of her skin, like fresh roses — drove me insane.

Her small hand gripped my arm, grounding herself, but not pulling away.

I pulled back just slightly, searching her face. Her lips were kiss-swollen, her hair a beautiful mess, and her eyes — wide, vulnerable, uncertain — locked with mine.

I kept her pinned lightly against the wall, our bodies pressed together. “Did that feel like business to you, ma?” I asked roughly, my thumb brushing her waist.

The blush crept up her neck again, warm and unfiltered. She shook her head shyly, her voice caught somewhere in her throat.

I exhaled sharply, trying to reel myself back.

Reluctantly, I stepped away — but kept a hand on her waist, not ready to let her go completely. I dragged my eyes down the faint marks I'd left along her collarbone and smiled, 

“Go to bed,” I said, my voice low, a bit softer now. “It’s really late.”

She blinked up at me, still dazed, then nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yeah… it is,” she whispered, picking up the book she had earlier, clutching it tightly to her chest as she made her way down the hall.

But just before she disappeared, I called out.

“Aurora.”

She paused, turning back, cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly.

“Yeah?”

I held her gaze, serious now, needing her to understand.

“To answer your question,” I said slowly, “just know... I’d never cut work short for her, or for anyone of that matter. So no, we weren’t close.”

I caught the realization flicker in her eyes — then turned and disappeared down the hallway into my room, needing a cold shower and my own hand to deal with the ache between my legs she left behind.

The next morning, I woke up later than usual — closer to eleven. I hadn’t gone into the office; as far as everyone knew, I was still in Milan.

Dragging myself out of bed, I expected to find Aurora in the kitchen, maybe eating a bagel or picking at something. Instead, I walked into the dining room to see both my brothers shoveling down the food my chefs had laid out.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “What the fuck are you two doing in my house?”

“Wow, real warm welcome,” Nick said around a mouthful of pancakes.

Matt snorted into his drink, trying not to laugh.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a can of Pepsi from the fridge.

“Heard you cut your trip short,” Matt said, taking a slow sip of apple juice. “Why?”

“Finished early,” I said, keeping my voice casual.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Finished early? Since when do you not milk a whole week out of those trips?”

“Didn’t feel like it this time,” I muttered, popping the tab on my drink. 

Nick exchanged a look with Matt as I cracked the Pepsi open.

Matt leaned back in his chair, glancing toward the hallway. “Where’s your girl?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Mind your business.”

Nick smirked around a mouthful of pancakes. “Touchy.”

Matt grinned. “Didn’t say anything. Just asking where she’s at.”

“She’s sleeping,” I said shortly, popping the tab on my drink. “Or reading. I don’t know. Why do you care?”

Nick shrugged innocently. “Just making conversation, man. You don’t gotta bite our heads off.”

Matt snorted into his juice. “Yeah, God forbid we ask about Sleeping Beauty.” 

I shot him a warning look, but before I could tell him to shut the fuck up, Nick leaned forward on his elbows, studying me way too closely.

“So you finished early in Milan?” he said, dragging out the words. “Didn’t feel like hanging around? Since when?”

I took a long sip of Pepsi, not answering right away.

Nick smirked like he already knew the answer. Matt raised his eyebrows, exchanging another look with him.

"You," Matt said slowly, grinning, "cut a trip short for a girl?"

I slammed the Pepsi can down on the counter a little harder than necessary.

"Drop it."

Nick held his hands up in mock surrender, but the smug look never left his face. “Hey, man. Whatever you say.”

Before I could tell them both to get the hell out, soft footsteps sounded from down the hall.

Soft footsteps padded down the hallway.

Aurora.

Wearing a loose pair of light grey pajama set. Her hair was slightly damp, pushed back from her face like she’d just washed it, her skin fresh and glowing from her skincare.

As soon as she stepped into the dining room, her eyes landed on Matt and Nick — both frozen mid-bite, staring at her like they'd seen a ghost.

Aurora blinked, clearly caught off guard by their presence. She shifted her weight awkwardly, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Uh...hi, morning,” she said hesitantly, giving them a small, awkward wave with the hand not holding her mug.

Matt just blinked at her.

Nick nearly dropped his fork.

I bit back a smirk, watching the whole thing unfold.

She looked so damn cute like this — sleep still clinging to her, skin soft and dewy, voice a little raspy from just waking up. She didn’t even have to try, and somehow it made it even harder not to stare.

Aurora shuffled toward the coffee pot, her cheeks flushing slightly as she turned her back on them, clearly trying to pretend like this wasn’t awkward as hell. 

Nick leaned toward Matt and stage-whispered, "Is it just me or did Chris just smile?"

Matt answered just as quietly. “Real big. Like some Disney prince shit.”

I shot them both a death glare. Matt pretended to cough. Nick suddenly found the butter on his pancakes very interesting.

Turning back to Aurora, I kept my voice low, just for her. “You eat yet, ma?”

She blinked, a little startled by the nickname in front of my brothers, but shook her head.

Nick elbowed Matt under the table. “Ma?” he mouthed dramatically.

She glanced over her shoulder at me, flushing a little, and shook her head.

I pushed out a chair. “Sit.”

She obeyed without a word, sliding into the seat beside mine, her knee brushing against mine under the table.

Nick watched the whole thing like it was the most entertaining thing he’d ever seen in his life. Matt, for once, had enough sense not to say anything.

But even I could see it written all over their faces: They were never gonna let me live this down, and for the first time, I didn’t give a fuck.

“So Aurora”, Matt started. “how are you?”.

I shot Matt a quick glance, narrowing my eyes slightly. What the hell was he getting at with his line of questioning?

Aurora met Matt's gaze, offering a soft smile. "I'm fine," she said, her voice gentle but steady. "How about you?"

"Good, good," Matt replied, nodding thoughtfully. "How are you finding everything here so far?"

Aurora’s smile never faltered. "Everything’s been okay," she said, her tone polite, as if carefully measuring her words.

Nick then chimed in, breaking the quiet tension. "You're a design student, right?"

Aurora nodded. "Yeah. I am."

A strange silence hung in the air for a moment, like everyone was waiting for something more, but no one quite knew what. The awkwardness was palpable, and I couldn’t help but find the whole situation oddly amusing. I leaned back in my chair, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips, watching the way they were trying to make small talk, as if they weren’t fully sure of what to say to her.

"I have to get going," Aurora said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have some things to do. Enjoy."

She stood up from the table, her movements graceful but just a little too quick. I could tell she felt out of place—she didn’t like being the center of attention, especially under my brothers’ watchful eyes.

She glanced at me, a brief, almost uncertain look. I gave her a small nod, letting her know it was fine. Without another word, she disappeared down the hallway, and a few seconds later, I heard the soft click of her bedroom door shutting.

The second she was gone, Nick leaned forward, dropping his fork with a loud clatter against his plate. "Bro," he said, smirking. "She’s cute."

Matt snorted, reaching for another pancake. "Way out of your league, too."

I shot them both a dry look. "Don’t start."

Matt held up his hands innocently. "Just saying. She’s...different. Not what I expected when you said you were getting married."

Nick nodded, mouth full. "Yeah, like, she’s actually nice. Thought you'd end up with some stuck-up heiress."

I took a long drink of my Pepsi, ignoring the way they both stared at me like they were waiting for a reaction.

"Arranged or not," Matt said, nudging Nick, "you lucked out, man."

I stayed silent, my jaw tight.

Matt leaned back in his chair, eyeing me. "You like her," he said bluntly, like it wasn’t even a question.

Nick laughed under his breath. "Yeah, you definitely do. Never seen you look at anyone like that."

"Cut the shit," I muttered, tossing my empty can of Pepsi into the trash. "It’s not like that."

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Sure it’s not. You were basically eye-fucking her the entire time she was sitting here.”

I shot him a glare. "Watch your mouth," I said, my voice low, protective without even meaning to be. "I was just making sure she was comfortable. You idiots were making her uncomfortable."

Nick held his hands up, grinning. "Hey, we're just saying. It's new seeing you like this. Mr. 'No Relationships' acting like a fucking husband already."

I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over my chest. "I’m being respectful."

Matt smirked. "Respectful? Bro, you looked like you were two seconds away from dragging her back to your room."

I gave him a sharp look. "Matt. Don’t talk about her like that."

Matt just rolled his eyes, clearly not taking me seriously. "Didn’t say anything about her," he said lazily, picking up his fork and poking at his pancakes again. "For an arranged thing, it’s not bad," he added with a shrug.

Nick nodded. "She's sweet. She didn’t even roast us for showing up uninvited."

"She’s used to it," I said without thinking. Then realizing how that sounded, I added, "High society bullshit. She’s been around it her whole life."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but still. She's... real. Not fake like the other rich girls."

"Don’t call her a rich girl," I snapped before I could stop myself.

Both of them froze for a second—then broke into matching grins.

Matt whistled low. "Man’s in deep already."

I shook my head, pushing off the counter. "You two need to get out of my house."

Nick laughed. "Not until you admit you like her."

"Not happening," I said, walking past them. "And wipe those stupid looks off your faces before I throw you out myself."

READ ALL RELEASED CHAPTERS HERE!

[a/n: ya'll i think I should start with the mega juicy stuff soon. Hopefully new chapter soon! like & reblog. mwahh] – ceyana

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (nine)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, nine

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. swearing, kissing, angst, fluff, miscommunication, mentions of drinking, oral (giving, receiving - Johnny is a man obsessed), dirty talk, spitting (only briefly), we’re close to praise kink territory, romantic penetrative sex, rough sex, fingering, breast play (fucking), begging, creampie, use of pet names (babe, baby, Juliet, good girl)

word count. 8,460

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. kim jungwoo, mark lee, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, kim dongyoung (doyoung)

author's note. i really struggled with where to cut this off. but, this felt like the best spot, even though it’s a bit short. chapter ten will be (roughly) 20k and there is a lot that happens, once spring comes around. please enjoy a moderately tame chapter before the climax.

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno @girlisaloser

playlist. here!

“What happened on New Year’s eve?”

There was an honesty lingering on Jaehyun’s tongue; honesty that needed to roll off the end of it, honesty that needed released. There was a tension in his shoulders, a weight he had developed new muscles specifically to carry. His body ached from the strain, his heart felt the worst of it. Jaehyun had tried, he had taken steps closer and closer to the edge until he got close enough to see just over it; something unknown, something unstable, something ungrounded. And when he saw that, he pulled back and he started over.

He was stuck in a cycle that was destroying him.

Jaehyun looked up at Jungwoo, tried to swallow misdirected malice and asked, “What did you say to her?”

It was accusatory, still slightly misplaced. Jaehyun knew it came back to him, all of it came back to Jaehyun and honesty that couldn’t, wouldn’t roll off his tongue. Still, he braced himself for impact, braced himself for honesty he wasn’t owed from Jungwoo, “I don’t know.”

“Just tell me.”

Jungwoo stopped in his tracks, fiddled with something on Jaehyun’s counter and shook his head. It had only been three days, the memory would always be wrapped in a haze of alcohol and music, laughter and the buzzing from his kitchen light. Jungwoo could remember most of it, some of it, a piece of the way you’d looked at him and the sinking feeling in his stomach when he knew, “I messed up.”

“How?”

“She…she was looking for you. And I just said that you missed her.” Jungwoo let out a breath, “I think I said that your mom missed her. So, she knew.”

“Oh.”

“I thought she already knew.”

It came back to him; Jaehyun and the honesty he cowered away from. He looked at Jungwoo and tried to step closer to the edge, “It’s my fault.”

“Yeah.” He’d never sugarcoat things. If Jaehyun could, if he could clear his head, he might think to thank Jungwoo for that, “It is.”

More weight, more tension. Jaehyun was close to caving and crumbling under it.

“What happened on New Year’s eve?” Mark’s head was in his hands, on the sofa across from Jaehyun, “I feel like I’ve been hungover for four days.”

Jaehyun looked at him easily, smiled and shook his head, “Did you have fun?” Answering Mark’s question with his own, piling on more weight. Mark didn’t need to know. Realistically, Mark was asking for his own clarity. So, Jaehyun avoided an answer with substance and added on, “You got pretty drunk.”

4:56pm What happened on New Year’s eve?

[4 Missed Calls from Johnny]

Jaehyun’s hands clenched around his phone, feeling it vibrate for the fifth time in the last six hours. He rolled his shoulders, tried to redistribute the weight, tried to breathe. Johnny had called and he called, then he waited before he called again and Jaehyun couldn’t pull himself to the edge to pick up. Instead, he watched his screen light up and go dark four times, instead he let a text and four calls go unanswered, avoiding them until he didn’t have a choice.

Until Jaehyun’s intercom alerted him and Johnny made himself unavoidable, “Open up.”

Jaehyun did.

Johnny had his hands in his pockets and a genuine, curious look on his face. He looked Jaehyun up, then down, then pushed past him to come inside, “Good. You’re alive.”

“Johnny.”

“What’s going on with you, man?” His friend put a hand on his shoulder. Johnny grabbed at him, squeezed at the tension and tried to relieve it, concerned, “Are you okay?”

Jaehyun lied. He was so good at lying, at looking his friends in the eyes and saying, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re good?” Lie. Jaehyun nodded and Jaehyun lied. Johnny patted his back, “Good. Now, what’s the truth?”

There was no way to answer that. He pushed his door closed, quieting the wind outside and not risking looking down the street to where he knew you were, where you’d been since you’d told him you needed space. You couldn’t be his friend. Jaehyun shook his head, “That is the truth.”

“I’ll ask a different question, then?” Johnny sat down, using the back of Jaehyun’s couch as a chair, “What happened on New Year’s eve.”

It’s my fault. Jaehyun blinked. He put more distance between himself and Johnny, himself and the edge, Jaehyun and honesty, “I don’t know, John. I don’t remember a lot of it.”

“Try.”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

“I will.” Johnny stood up then, “I’m worried about her. I’m worried about you too, man. So, talk to me.”

One year ago, you were standing in the same spot Johnny was. One year ago, when Jaehyun had spent days wishing he’d kissed you at midnight, you were in his living room, in his sweatshirt, safely in his heart. It felt naive to think you’d always be there, now. Jaehyun felt his hands, his ears, his chest warm at the thought - loss, you being gone for a while, maybe for good. He had to hold onto something to keep his composure, to keep himself from spiraling.

Jaehyun took another step away from Johnny and gave a pinch of the truth, “We’re just growing up, John.”

Johnny nodded, like he accepted that as an answer. Jungwoo’s party had been an interesting way to recognize growth; the way all of you looked so out of place in your uniforms and, at the same time, the way you looked just as you always had. Jaehyun couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t walk himself away from how much you all had changed. He fell in love with the girl in that uniform, he’d traced constellations into your skin, he made promises he thought he’d have time to keep. You weren’t her, anymore. The fragments of her he could still see were wedged into places they didn’t fit - shattered remnants of you in high school, you in college, you and him in every moment before October. Before Johnny told me he likes me.

“Yeah, we are.” Johnny would never give up. He was too assured to do that, Johnny was riddled with determination. Five missed calls, one text and Johnny on Jaehyun’s doorstep just to ask, “What does that mean for you?”

It was enough to stop Jaehyun from running, not enough to pull him back. Not yet. He raised his head, shifted in place and gave more of the truth than he anticipated, “We’re growing apart.”

There was silence after that, such an uncomfortable pause. It stretched on and on and on until Johnny nodded, looked down at his hands and asserted, “It doesn’t have to mean that.”

You got to choose, so it did. Jaehyun didn’t want to be bitter, he didn’t like the taste that had lingered for months, intensified in the new year. It was the decision you’d come to and he didn’t fight it. Seeing you with tear-stained cheeks, broken in front of him and begging, Jaehyun didn’t think he could fight it. His head shook, a resentful laugh preceding more honesty, “It does. It’s what…it’s what we decided, for now.”

“We?”

“Yeah.”

“And what does that mean?”

Relentless, determined. Johnny wouldn’t give up. Jaehyun took in a breath, he’d it and let it out in a rush, “We’re just…not going to be friends for a while. We’re - I’m giving her space.” Jaehyun added, “And you.”

Johnny countered, “Why do I need space?” While Jaehyun took too long to answer, Johnny took the time to figure it out. His tongue clicked, “Ah. Do you wanna talk about that?”

“Not really.” Jaehyun corrected, “There’s not much to talk about.”

“There was enough for you to need space from her.” Like it was a joke, Johnny raised his hand and corrected, “From us. Is that what it is?”

“It’s…”

“What is it?”

“I don’t…”

“You gotta just say it, man.” Johnny knew to push, Johnny knew everything to say to push and get Jaehyun to plummet, “What’s going on?”

Jaehyun reverted back to pinching off pieces of the truth, “I don’t want to see her get hurt, again.”

He didn’t. He didn’t want to watch the way you’d collapse into yourself, he couldn’t watch you shatter again. Jaehyun was already holding onto shards and fragments and pieces you’d left behind. He couldn't stomach you looking at him the way you did on New Year’s eve, the way you had for the last three months. Jaehyun couldn't hear your voice break and crack and strain when you spoke, especially if it was to say his name. And Jaehyun couldn’t be the one to do it; to break you, to hurt you.

If you needed space, he’d give it to you. Because Jaehyun had little else to give.

Johnny shook his head. They’d circled around this conversation before, they’d visited the topic in your yard. He wanted to remind Jaehyun that he wasn’t the only one who cared about you, that what Johnny felt was so secure and stable. How Johnny felt, how he hoped you felt. He wanted to shout at Jaehyun for ever thinking that he would handle you with anything but care.

Johnny was somewhere near disbelief when he reminded Jaehyun, “I was there, too. When he left”

“What?”

“I was there. I know what that did.” Johnny paused, he settled the anger that was forcing its way out and then, he went on, “I know she’s your best friend, but you’re not the only one that doesn’t want to see her hurting.”

Sicheng. The four of you, the three of you who knew and Mark who had only been told, hadn’t spoken about him in years. In the last three months, you’d come back to it and back to it, again. Jaehyun would go with it, he’d let it happen; Jaehyun could let Johnny think he was talking about Sicheng, he could hide in his shadow and take more time. Time he was losing, time that was fleeting.

Jaehyun lied and he hid and he tucked himself away in a shadow when he said, “She hadn’t been in a relationship, a real one, since…I, look, I just want you guys to have time to figure it out.” Figure out that it doesn’t work. “So that it doesn’t fall apart.”

His stomach churned. Jaehyun hated himself, hated this moment. He hated that Johnny was on his couch, watching and waiting and likely seeing through his lie. But, Jaehyun hated, more than anything, when Johnny just nodded and stood up, “Whose decision was it? The whole space thing?”

Swallowing, without any real reason but like it came naturally to him, Jaehyun lied, “Mine.”

He scoffed. Johnny scoffed and tilted his head, backing towards the door, “Jae, who do you think is hurting her?”

📻

It was empty; your chest felt like it had been hollowed out and pushed full of air. There was only space for your heart to beat lowly, for it to echo in an empty chamber only half full. Johnny had told you you’ve always been the best with change.

In a rush of honesty, of vulnerability, you told him I think I’m afraid of change.

He knew to push you, to encourage you, to watch you accept something new and give you time to let it grow. But, Jaehyun wasn’t something new.

You’d held onto certain seeds for too long, you’d kept them locked away and let them rot in soil that didn’t suit them. The Earth was tainted, where you’d planted your friendship with Jaehyun, everything he’d meant to you, all that the two of you had been. It wasn’t suitable for growth. The ground was too cold, in January, in December, in November. It was drowning in rain, too wet in October and in September. In August and July and June, the sun was too bright, too harsh; it dried up the Earth and cracked around the seed. And, in May, April, March and February the weather had always been too unpredictable.

Your heart broke, it wilted, it withered in your chest knowing there had never been a time for the two of you - for you and Jaehyun - to twist together, to intertwine in the Earth and burst through the ground towards the sky in bloom.

It was a change you couldn’t make, one you couldn’t adapt too no matter how much time you’d had.

Johnny hands held you gently, planted something so small inside a pot and when it grew too big, moved it to the next. He built greenhouses, sanctuaries for you to keep growing - hoping you’d let him tend to it, let him grow with you. Everything was changing around you and he made sure you could have time to adapt.

He held your hand, held you close to him - just the two of you on your couch, lit up by the screen across the room. playing a movie you’d seen before. Johnny breathed evenly, encouraging your lungs to fill as his lungs did, urging your chest to rise and fall in time. He’d been more delicate, he’d worn gloves and tended to you for five days, giving you both time to settle into the new year.

He laughed at the movie, squeezed your arm tighter when he noticed you didn’t. Johnny pulled on his gloves and asked you, with lips pressed to your temple, “Where'd you go?”

“I’m here.”

Johnny knew when to push, he knew what to say, he knew what moves to make, “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” Your mind dissected his question; pulled it apart word by word, letter by letter and left it a torn apart mess. Your own answer came to a halt at your lips, stopping itself too abruptly for you to react. Words were lost, you were lost, “I don’t…”

I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t have an answer that won’t tear me apart. You were spiraling, again and again and again. Looping around the truth, I lost my best friend.

You’d told Jaehyun I don’t think I can be your friend, right now. Every word felt like a knife dragging along your throat, every syllable was another piece of your heart, your soul, the person you’d always been being chipped away at. You’d made the decision, you got to choose, and it still destroyed you. It wasn’t enough to say you’d lost your best friend, it was a loss greater than that.

It was years of him, of you, of the two of you together. It was years of trying to find a word for what you were to each other, a feeling even close to how you felt. It was two decades of your lives seeping into one another until there was little that was left separate. You had intertwined, but you’d refused to grow. So, how you felt for Jaehyun sat just under the surface, clinging to fragments of light, until it wilted away.

You couldn’t stop your body from shaking, the tears that spilled, slipped down your cheeks as a result. Johnny watched you, saw everything erupt in real time. His heart pounded in his chest, “It’s okay, babe. I’m so sorry.”

You’d never blame Johnny. You wanted to tell him that, wanted the truth to spill out of you as quickly, as easily as your tears did. Every breath you took felt like fire in your lungs, “No, it’s…”

Words failed. Johnny held you closer to him, “Take your time. I’m here, I’m listening.”

Listening to you gasp for air, listening as sobs were the only thing that broke through your lips. Johnny was listening as you forced out consonants and breathed in on vowels, as everything you tried to say fell flat. Your palms were sweating, itching as they held onto him. Spoken words failed and Johnny was right; racing thoughts were running into barriers on their way out, tangled in your vocal cords, held hostage behind a barrier. You pushed yourself away from him, croaking out one word, “Stay.”

His eyes followed you as you walked up the stairs, he listened until he could hear you coming back down. Then Johnny watched as you sat at the end of the couch, until he felt the chill of the space between you, and saw the book in your hands. You scribbled, you scratched, the movie played behind you. Johnny waited until you closed it, your name facing up, and handed it to him.

I told Jaehyun we couldn’t be friends.

Scribbled out above it, Jaehyun and I

I’m not friends

Johnny read over the words, head nodding slowly, “I know.” He reached his hand out, again. He wrote underneath, Tell me about it.

You’d never blame Johnny.

You thought, you closed your eyes and thought of what to say. Then, you wrote, I just think this change was too big for both of us.

And Johnny’s heart sank, I’m sorry

“It’s not your fault.” You scooted closer, “Johnny, I…”

You looked back down at the book, how his writing got smaller when he apologized for something that wasn’t ever his fault. It never would be. Your fingers traced the two words, tried to keep tears at bay, then wrote, I want to be with you. You said you wanted us to grow and I want that, too. I want to be on the same page, always.

Johnny couldn’t help but scribble, We’re on the same page, right now.

When he slipped the book back to you, when you read his message, the two of you laughed. Honesty ran through your veins, vulnerability and comfort and safety in his presence. Johnny smiled at you, motioned for you to pass the book back so he could add, How do you feel?

“Terrible.” Until it gets easier to say, you can write it. With ease, with comfort, you confided in Johnny, “It’s temporary. It’s supposed to be temporary.”

“Hm.” He nodded, “Give it time.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s weird?” Johnny knew it wasn’t that simple, he knew there was more to be said, “Try again.”

“It hurts. A lot.”

“How can I help?” He reached his hands out again, you put the book behind you and took them both in yours, “Tell me what I can do.”

You’d be asking the world of him, you’d be asking too much. It was selfish, “Just stay.”

Johnny told you, “I’ll stay.”

📻

Mark had snowflakes on his eyelashes, nestled in his hair, clinging to fabric of the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. The chain of the swing squeaked with every push of his legs, unable to freeze despite the cold, “You and Jaehyun aren’t talking.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s been a month since we were all together.”

“It has.”

“Will you tell me?” You brushed the flakes of white sprinkled in his chocolate colored hair, reaching across from your own swing and rattling the chains as you moved. Mark shivered, cheeks rosy from the cold, “Please?”

You told him, “You need a hat. You’ll get sick.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

The ice in your lungs made your breath form like a cloud of smoke in front of you when you said, “We’re just changing. Everything is changing.”

“Yeah, everything always does.” Mark pushed off the ground again, “Why does that mean you stop talking?”

Your hands shook, wrapping around the chain links holding your swing up. You could blame the cold; snow had been falling for three days straight, hiding the sun behind the clouds they carried it. You could blame the wind that swept flurries across the park, down the slides left untouched in the winter. Mark wouldn’t believe you, but eventually he’d swing himself into forgetting to press, he’d stop asking and move onto something else. Because Mark didn’t need to be involved in it.

Not more than he already was. Mark was just as tangled in a mess you couldn’t make sense of, seeing things you’d never notice and still grappling to piece it all together. You looked at him, “You said it, I think. He’s just been weird”

“So, it’s his fault?”

“Fuck.” Sighing you looked back down, where your feet had been buried into the snow, “No. It’s not his fault. It’s…I don’t know Mark. I’ve been weird, too.”

“Does Johnny know?”

“Yeah, Johnny knows.”

“So, I’m the only one that doesn’t?” He shook his head, “That’s not fair.”

None of it was.

You told him what you’d told Johnny, “It’s temporary.” Then you added on what Johnny told you, “Give it time.”

Mark nodded. He looked to the sky, caught snowflakes on his tongue, swaying back and forth next to you, “I’m really happy for you and Johnny, you know that, right?”

“I know, Mark.”

“Really. I mean it, like, so much.” He looked directly at you. Mark stopped moving to catch your attention, to make sure you were paying attention, just like Johnny did. You wondered how much influence you’d all had on him over all these years. Mark was only thirteen when you’d met him, “I think it’s really a good thing and I know what Jaehyun said, it’s messed up that you know he said it, but I don’t want that to stop you guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re all adults.” Part of you wanted to argue, wanted to coddle and coo at Mark like you always had, but you let him continue, “I think Johnny…I think he might really be, like, into you. In a really solid way, you know?”

Watching Mark dance around the subject made your heart swell, made your palms sweat despite the cold. He gnawed at his lip, doing everything he could not to steal the words from Johnny, take away from a moment that wasn’t his. Mark looked away when you agreed, “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

“I think…I mean, life doesn’t stop changing. I don’t know what I’m doing after I graduate, Jaemin doesn’t even know if he is graduating and-” Mark stopped himself, centered himself and went on, “You guys are my family. You’re my one constant, like, ever. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t think you’ll tell me, but I need all three of you.”

There was a pressure building, unstoppable the way it rushed in. A pressure disguised as promises you didn’t know if you’d be able to keep. You promised Mark that you wouldn’t let a rift become a tear, a tear become a black hole that took everything in a blink. You didn’t know if there was any way you could stop it; you didn’t think that you could.

“I’ll do my best, Mark.” Your voice was hushed, lost in the wind, “I promise, I’m doing my best.”

He added, “You don’t have to stay or do something you don’t want to, just because of me, though. Or Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

“But, if it doesn’t work out between you and Johnny, let it be because of something real.” Mark grinned when he said, “Johnny listens to Imagine Dragons, that might be something.”

📻

Johnny thought to say it, when January passed by in a flurry, in blustery days, in snowstorms. He thought to tell you when his hands were wrapped around you, holding to his chest in your bathtub. The water was cooling, his hands had wrinkled and you were calm, comfortable against him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses and whispering praise. He could’ve slipped in three more words, eight more letters and thought nothing of it.

Johnny would think about nothing else until he did.

His fingers ran down your arms, where they rested at your hips and took your hands in his. He found his voice and a substitute praise to whisper, “I love the way you smell, babe.”

You giggled, his breath fanning over your cooling skin and tickling your neck, “We smell the same most of the time. You always use my soap.”

“Mhm. So I can smell you on me all day.”

Johnny scraped his teeth where his lips lingered, found a spot to mark and remind you he’d been there. You moaned, sinking further into him, “Johnny.”

Another substitute, “I love the way you say my name.”

He thought of saying it at Doyoung’s birthday dinner, surrounded by your friends in the dim light of the restaurant. Your lips were red, again, begging to be kissed and with every drink he took, he was finding it harder and harder to stop himself. Johnny was quickly running out of options that weren’t confess or kiss her.

When you smiled - when you clapped your hands and threw your head back at something Ten had said or done that was lost on Johnny - all he wanted to do was sweep you up and away. He wanted to stop the conversation, to draw attention, to make a scene just so he could tell you everything he was feeling. Johnny wanted to steal Doyoung’s thunder and face the consequences of that, later.

Instead, he let a smile stretch his face until it ached, he let his lips come close to your ear so he could tell you, “I love your smile, baby.”

You hadn’t heard him, boisterous and blissful amongst your friends. Johnny would let the moment fade, he’d take the loss of a confession just to see you smile like that. January had started in a haze and you’d worked so hard to come out of it, Johnny only wanted to keep you in the light.

Taeyong caught his attention, from across the table. Taeyong could see it written all over Johnny’s face. He took a sip of his drink and grinned, mouthing, “You should tell her.”

Johnny took another look at you and leaned back in his seat, miming back, “Not yet.”

He almost said it, in the candle light, in the ambience of your bedroom the night of his own birthday. When you’d handed him his gift and whispered, “Happy birthday.”

He was another year older, he might have been bolder, but Johnny was speechless when he unwrapped the paper and held his gift in his hands. You shied away, you tried to be subtle and gauge his reaction, “Say something.”

”How did you - where did you-”

”Taeyong painted them.”

Johnny’s hands wrapped around two canvases; thin black outlines filled with vibrant color, blending together and speckled with accents of silver and gold. Taeyong’s signature was at the bottom of both paintings, but your smile was the centerpiece of both. One of you and Johnny on Halloween, your wings behind you as Johnny held you in a blurred crowd; his armor was shining, not nearly as bright as you had been. You as an angel, you as his Juliet. Johnny as Romeo, completely enraptured.

The second one was from dinner at Taeyong’s; in the limbo between Halloween and Christmas, when calling you his was still brand new. Johnny was wrapped around you, guiding your hands as they stirred the pot, your eyes were only on him, perfect lips pulled into a smile.

”I told him to use his imagination.” You felt nervous; how you did after Johnny’s first confession. A strange mix of uncertainty and cautious curiosity, “He has reference pictures. Well, I have them. I didn’t know they existed until he showed me.”

“Baby.”

“There’s actually another one he’s still working on from New Year's eve. He couldn’t get it done in time.”

Johnny found another substitute, what he wanted to say threatening to spill out. His heart was overflowing into his throat, into his head, drowning out rational thought. Johnny didn’t really want to be rational, “I love it. I love them. I love-”

You cut him off, “There’s more.”

“There’s more?”

“Yeah.” Your voice fell, just above a whisper when you instructed, “Close your eyes.”

So Johnny did. You slipped the paintings from his hand, put them somewhere safe and came back to him. Johnny could only listen as you moved around, he could only tune into your breathing, the scent of your perfume and your soap and your skin when you passed by. You took his hands in your, sending electricity through his veins at your touch when he guided him to sit on the edge of your bed. Then, at once, you brought back all of his senses and told him, “Open your eyes.”

Then there you were; wrapped like a present in red satin. It was tied around your breast, a set that came to a close in a bow between them. Matching red panties hugged your hips, held tight to your skin.

“Unwrap me.”

Johnny was speechless again, breathless, thoughtless in front of you. The red fabric wrapped around your skin made his head spin, the scent of you made his mouth water. You were a brilliant present, a beautiful gift and you were just for him, “Baby, I’m…”

“Please, Johnny.”

“Come here.” You came closer, legs stumbling beneath you. Johnny hissed, hands on your hips, trailing up your sides, brushing over where your hardened nipple poked through. His hands pulled at the fabric, the thick ribbons of satin soft in his palms. When he tugged at it, when your breasts spilled out, Johnny’s mouth was helplessly dry, “My beautiful baby.”

He called your name, whispered it as he cupped your breast and squeezed. You moaned for him, sighed and pleaded for him, “Use me. Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

He echoed, “All mine.”

Johnny’s lips were on yours, a heated kiss, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. His hands groped at any part of you he could feel; your tits, your ass, coming around to cup your soaking pussy. He pulled at the waistband, up to lift you closer, up until the fabric pulled and rubbed against your clit like torture; toe-curling friction between your legs.

“You're soaking for me, baby. Always so fucking wet for me.” Johnny slotted his thigh between yours, pulled you down onto it, “Go on, baby. Fuck yourself on me.”

He watched, mesmerized as you rolled your hips, sloppy and uncoordinated, lost in him and the feeling. Your eyes closed, your mouth hung open; when Johnny clenched his muscles, your vision blurred, “Fuck, Johnny. Feels so good.”

“You gonna cum like this? My Juliet is gonna cum fucking herself on my thigh?” Johnny latched himself to your nipple again, mumbling around the hardening bud, “Or do you need my help?”

“Need your help. Need you, Johnny.”

“You want my fingers first, baby?”

“Please, God, please.” In an instant, his fingers slipped into your panties and were buried in your cunt, wetness dripping down onto his wrist. Johnny’s lips switched to wrap around your other nipple, biting and sucking and pulling until you screamed out his name. Until your head fell back in a breathless moan, “Oh my God.”

“You're so good for me. My good girl, huh?” His words sent a shiver down your spine, Johnny was losing his mind - losing every sense he’d just been so wrapped up in. He was babbling every thought that came to mind and increasingly worried that he’d let the one thing he’d held close spill. He felt your pussy clench around his fingers, “Fuck, baby.”

“Johnny wanna cum.”

Three fingers curling into your cunt sent you over the edge, pulled you into a white oblivion and had your head spinning. Johnny watched you fall apart, felt your juices soak through his pants and felt the way his cock throbbed, painfully, against the fabric. He chanted your name, kissed it into your skin, until you came down shaking in his arms.

“Come back to me, baby.” Words spoken into your open mouth, coaxing and taunting and so full of something unsaid, “Open your eyes.”

Johnny’s hand held your jaw, made it so you’d only see him when you fell back to Earth, “Wanna…want you.”

“What do you want, baby?” Your mouth dropped open in response, eyes heavy and head still spinning. Johnny’s eyebrow raised, a quiet ‘Oh’ on his lips before he instructed, “Knees, baby.”

You slid off of him, knees landing on carpet in an indelicate plop. Johnny smiled down at you, holding your chin again to tilt your head upward. Your hands were shaking when they reached out to touch him, trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm and in anticipation for Johnny. His cock was bulging, the fabric of his pants pulled tight over it, and you’d never felt so desperate to have something in your mouth.

He watched your every move like a hawk, the way you unzipped his pants, how your hands struggled to find a grip strong enough to shimmy them down. Johnny held his cock in his hand, stroking it while you gazed up at him; entranced, enraptured. The head leaked, precum dripping from the tip when he leaned forward and tapped it against your waiting lips, “Open.”

You did, sucking him in inch by inch. Johnny held the back of your head, “That’s it, baby. Relax for me, let me in.” He pushed his hips forward slowly, agonizingly slow, almost screaming when your moan vibrated against his cock in your throat, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

You bobbed your head, Johnny helped to guide you with a harsh grip. He was moaning and moaning, head thrown back and still wanting more. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing your perfect tits; wrapped up for him, spilling out for him, bouncing right in front of him while you rode him. When Johnny opened his eyes, he could see them still bouncing as you bobbed on his cock, took every inch of him that he could.

His hand pulled you off of him, gently and with a dazed smile, “Up on your knees a little bit, baby. Come here.”

Johnny pulled at the satin, used it to guide you closer to his hips, his leaking cock. You watched, curious and compliant, as he positioned himself between your tits and gathered the ribbon to push them tight around his cock, “Spit on it, baby.”

You did, drool spilling past your lips and landing on him and you, slipping between your breast while Johnny’s hips bucked up. He groaned, the friction just right, driving him insane. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control the words that came out. Johnny was too far gone, lost in you and in every sensation you made him feel, “Your tits feel so fucking good, baby. Love fucking them, love - fuck - I love it.”

Four words were easy to say, masked and hidden in praises. He shook, Johnny was shaking, wanting to say so much more. His hips lifted and fell, thrusting against your with his legs spread wide. He was close to cumming, eyes opening to see the way your tits bounced on his dick, “Oh, shit.”

“Cum for me, Johnny.”

“No baby. Not yet. Wanna…need to cum inside you, baby.” He was begging, helpless, “Please.”

You didn’t hesitate. Your heart was pounding in your ears, mind foggy and ready to do anything he asked you to, ready to please Johnny and see if the something that lingered became more clear. You wrapped your lips around his tip, one more time, sucking and then releasing it with a pop. Johnny could only think clearly enough to moan your name, leaning back when you crawled on top of him and took hold of his cock again. You coated him in you, in the wetness that dripped from your core and covered your thighs, his, the sheets underneath you.

“Johnny, look at me.” You felt like crying, you couldn’t place why. You wanted to see him in the fog, through the haze, the only clear thing in an oblivion. You sought him out and begged him, “Please look at me.”

Your voice was the only thing grounding him, holding him steady. Johnny sat up on his elbow, hand back on your face to focus you, “I’m here. I’m right here baby.”

“Hold me.”

Johnny thought to say it, then. He could’ve looked in your eyes, pulled you to him and told you, as simply as he’d like. But he stayed silent, he didn’t let this moment go. Johnny wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up and lowered you slowly, slowly, slowly down onto his waiting cock. The two of you were silent, gasping in air that was shared between the two of you, sighing names like prayers and promises.

“Johnny.”

He called for you, too.

“Move.”

He did, hips rolling up, “Look at you. Look at my baby, my Juliet. Can you feel me, baby?” He pressed on your stomach, held his hand where he filled you, “Can you feel me here?”

You nodded, mind obliterated, “Yes. God, yes.”

“Tell me you- tell me you love it.” He wanted more. Johnny wanted to just say it, “Please.”

“I love it.”

He thought about it, he begged the words to find their way to him. Johnny was so close; to cumming, to speaking. Eight letters took their time unscrambling, playing a game in his mind he couldn’t focus on. You held onto him as tightly as you could, panting and scrambling for that something you could almost place. Johnny fingers slipped to the front of you, pinching at your clit, toying with it, making your eyes roll back, “I’m close.”

“Me too.”

“Let me fill you up, baby.”

You nodded, you begged, you’d placed the something in the oblivion, in your whited-out vision. You found him and you felt it, “Please.”

Johnny came, white hot vision and white hot liquid dripping in between the two of you, spilling from you as your pussy clenched around him. His lips formed the words he wanted, but he was left silent hoping you’d open your eyes enough to read his lips. Johnny could only focus on one feeling at a time; the grip you had on him, the way your fingers traced shapes onto the skin of his back.

Traced words.

Traced three words he’d been gasping for.

Johnny pulled back from you, held your face in his hands - not for the first time, not for the last - and he told you, sweat dripping down his face, “Me too. I do, too.”

📻

On February 14th the world felt too still, too quiet, too lifeless.

You stood on your doorstep, on an inch of settled snow and closed your eyes. Johnny was on his way, he’d told you as much. Johnny was coming to pull you out of your mind, out of your comfort, out of the silence you lingered in. You waited, wrapped in his scarf and hoping courage would find you. Your fingers were wrapped around an envelope, a bright red envelope with his name written across the front. You had time, if you could move your feet down one step, then another you could convince them to carry you down the street. You could drop the envelope on his doorstep and swallow what felt like pride.

The wind was softer than in January, blowing only enough to rustle the strands of hair around your face. You silently begged for the blistering winds of January to sweep you off your feet and tumble you down the street in a gust of air.

You missed him. Johnny had done what he could to piece you together, to fill the space left behind. Mark, too. Even Haechan had been gentler with you, changed the subject the first time you’d asked and hadn’t touched it since. It was these moments, the silent and still moments, when that feeling held on; you missed him.

Jaehyun was another year older, Jaehyun was just down the street. Jaehyun was holding onto pieces of your carved away heart that you didn’t know how to get back without him. Your fingers tightened around the envelope, guilt seeping in at a memory from five days ago.

The words you’d traced into Johnny’s back, the words neither of you had said, but that you had both acknowledged.

You meant them, even if they weren’t ready to be vocalized. You meant them and kissed where they rested while Johnny slept, while you showered with him, while he made you coffee. You meant them and it was another terrifying change.

If you meant those words, how could your heart still hold so much space for him. How could you still feel pulled to the end of the street, to the moments in your bubble, to him tracing things into your skin; constellations, promises, words that he meant, too.

You felt your face cooling, a breeze chasing after a tear that rolled down your cheek. You weren’t sure your heart could break more; the way it filled when you were with Johnny made it feel impossible.

Johnny was coming, Johnny was on his way.

Your feet became restless, still and stationary for too long. They moved down one step with relative ease, hesitated at the next, resisted another until you were on the stone path heading towards your gate. They stopped there, another spot to linger, having done so much work to get this far.

You took in a breath; cool and shallow.

February 14th was unbearable.

You could see his house, see your breath in front of you to remind you that you were alive; you were breathing, you could move, you missed him. Your hand reached for the gate, the latch on it and pulled it open.

You missed him and out of the confines of your home, your yard, your space, that was enough to pull you down the street. Each step echoed in a world too still, too lifeless, too quiet. But, you were there, on the sidewalk in front of Jaehyun’s house with your hands shaking around a red envelope.

Jaehyun across the front.

Jaehyun in your handwriting.

You put it on the ground in front of his door, stepping back into view of the intercom’s camera. He could see you, he could see the way your tears streaked the blush brushed on your cheeks. Jaehyun, if he was looking, could see the way you whispered, “Happy Birthday, Jae.” before you turned and forced yourself back down the street.

Johnny was coming, Johnny was on his way. Johnny was on your doorstep when you made it back. His hands were wrapped around a bouquet of white roses, “You got me flowers?”

It was the first time you’d spoken, tried to speak, at full volume all day. Johnny smiled at the attempt, “White roses.”

“I see that.” You smiled back, heart filling, the space left behind overflowing in Johnny’s presence, “Do you know what it means?”

“Innocence and new love.”

You teased him, “It took longer than two weeks.”

Johnny came closer, “I didn’t account for holiday time.”

“Hm. That slows everything down.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, my Juliet.”

You stood on your toes to kiss him, to melt into him and take the roses from his hands. Innocence and new love. You’d meant every letter, every syllable, every word, “Happy Valentine’s day, my Romeo.”

Johnny could’ve melted; himself, the snow, the polar ice caps. He grinned and grinned and kissed you and grinned. Then, Johnny tugged at your hand and pulled you out of comfort, “Come on, let’s go.”

It was hours later, when the world was dark much too early, when Johnny was asleep in your arms with his head on your chest. It was hours later when Johnny had given you all of him and you’d done the same, opting for words written instead of spoken, words traced. It was hours later when you were close to sleeping that your phone lit up on your nightstand.

1:45am Thank you

His name flashed, it made your vision blur with tears. You sent back, 1:46am You’re welcome. Happy birthday, again.

Then, desperate to put pieces of you back together, you told him 1:46am I miss you

[Seen at 1:47am]

📻

“I want to tell her.”

Yuta leaned back into the worn leather chair, let it settle under his weight when he asked, “What’s stopping you?”

“Nothing really.”

Taeyong was across the room, paint splattered on his skin, his clothes, the floor around him while the three bounced ideas back and forth. He turned, paintbrush held between his teeth, “Something is.”

Yuta was brave enough, bold enough and furious enough to ask, “Did you talk to Jaehyun?”

Johnny eyed him, “Not since January. I think Mark is the only one that has.”

He knew that was only partially true. Mark was the only one who had seen Jaehyun since January, relaying information between the four of you and exhausting himself in the process. Johnny’s stomach churned at the thought. But, with the way Yuta watched him, Johnny knew it was better to proceed with caution; to keep the red envelope you’d left, the message left on read between you and Jaehyun and Johnny.

“What did he say?” Yuta pressed, “When you talked to him, did he say why they weren’t talking?”

Johnny nodded, he sighed, he confided, “He wanted a break for us, from us, until we figured us out.”

Again, Yuta led the conversation, leaving Taeyong to pick up the echoes across the room, “What did she say about it?”

“She asked him for space.” Johnny hadn’t thought too hard about the inconsistencies until Yuta titled his head the way he was, until Taeyong stopped painting all together and joined them, perched on a stool. They both waited for Johnny to catch up, “Just say whatever you’re thinking.”

“Which one is lying?”

“Probably him.” Johnny’s trust in you was unshakable, his skin tingled where you’d last put your promise - just in the palm of his hand, “But why?”

“He…” Taeyong hesitated, “He cares about her.”

“We all do.”

Yuta didn’t hesitate at all, he didn’t stutter or waver in the slightest when he sat up, elbows on his knees and told Johnny, “He’s in love with her.”

Johnny laughed. He didn’t know if it was voluntary, he didn’t know if he meant to. It had to be a joke, so he laughed without thinking too much about it. But, Yuta didn’t laugh - Taeyong didn’t either. The studio was silent, clouds covered the sun and Johnny froze where he was. He watched the two across from him, how they glanced at each other, “You’re joking.”

Yuta shook his head, Taeyong looked at his feet. Johnny stood, turned away from the two of them and tried to swallow the sick feeling that made his mouth water, made his heart stop and his palms sweat. Taeyong spoke next, “What are you thinking?”

“No one thought to tell me?”

“It wasn’t our place.” Yuta said it like it was simple. Like it was easy. As simply and as easily as he’d told Johnny he’s in love with her.

His fists clenched at his sides, rage in his veins to replace the overwhelming nausea. Johnny wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t blind, he would’ve seen it. He would’ve known. Johnny wouldn’t have, couldn’t have missed something like that if it was so obvious. He shook his head again, shook away the feeling and the thought, “Why the fuck is it your place to say it now, then?”

“We didn’t know how far this would go.”

“Fuck off.”

Taeyong tried to ease him, “Would you rather not know?”

“Yes. Obviously yes, I’d rather not know.” He was frantic, he was bordering on denial and deciding whether or not he wanted to dive head first into it. Johnny looked between the two of them, “You’re fucking with me.”

Yuta shook his head, “Think about it Johnny.”

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t. Johnny gathered his things, wordlessly, mind spinning, and he left.

📻

February passed by in a rush of celebrated birthdays, dinners you were hesitant to attend. Your message was left opened, read, seen for one week, then two. When March came all too quickly, with a sun that was desperate to thaw out the ground, the trees, the flowers, you’d found new ways to fill the gaps still left in your heart.

Johnny and the way he looked at you. Johnny and the way he kissed you. Johnny and the way he held you. Johnny and the way he needed you. He wrapped his arms around you and asked, “When did you know?”

“Your birthday. Maybe a little before.”

“Really?” You still had yet to say it, either one of you. But it was felt, it was acknowledged, it was so cherished between the two of you and completely understood. Johnny mulled over your answer, “I think I knew at Christmas.”

“Do you want to say it?”

He nodded, “I do. But, I don’t want to rush it. I think it’s good knowing it’s there, I think it feels good knowing you feel it too.”

“Yeah.”

“Right now, that’s enough.” The midday sun filtered in through, it pushed past uncertain clouds - ones that hung between winter and spring, bringing rain and snow in alternating drops, “Do you want to say it?”

“Every day.” You’d written it, tucked it away in your shared journal. There were three times you’d thought to give it to him, three times you almost let Johnny read it. It had taken courage to press it into his skin, to grow comfortable with the way that felt. The next time you’d offer him a new version, you wanted to be brave enough, bold enough to use your voice, “Every single day.”

He grinned, Johnny basked in the way you looked at him. He reveled in the way you kissed him. Johnny cherished the way you held him. He was drunk on the way you needed him. So, he rolled you into your back and promised you, “Me too.”

📻

Jaehyun stood on your doorstep, white knuckles wrapped around an envelope. He borrowed bravery from you, from the memory of you on his birthday. It had taken him one week to settle on a reply, two weeks to scribble it down and three days to drive down the street and stand outside your door.

He knew you were out. He knew he had time. Jaehyun lingered and waited and hoped you’d sense him there, that you’d come rushing back home just to see him standing there. The paper crinkled in his hands, folded and creased where he held on too tightly.

He’d always held on too tightly; he still was.

He propped the envelope on your door, borrowed bravery dropped at his feet, and Jaehyun left. Leaving his unsent message wrapped in an envelope, simple and lacking, for you to find.

I miss you too.

previous. masterlist. next.

[johanna-swann]

What do you mean they’re playing both sides? I have the same thoughts, but I’d like to hear your take on it if you don’t mind

Oh, careful what you wish for. I love these kinds of questions and usually use them as an excuse to go on particularly long rants.

What I'm referring to specifically here is some tweets I saw screenshots of in the 911 tag earlier and that made me think: "Oh the buddie baiting is strong in this one." There are different levels to this, different players or stakeholders if you will each with their own agenda.

First we have the interviewer. If he wanted to actually focus on Eddie as an individual character you'd think he'd at least mention Eddie's child by name. I mean, nobody has spoken the names "Marisol", "Kim" or "Shannon" all season - Christopher is the part of this story line they've decided to focus on so far and basically all of Eddie's important scenes in 8a featured a conversation with or about Chris. But instead of bringing that up the interviewer makes sure to specifically mention that he asked about "what's going on between [...] Eddie & Buck" and in a follow-up tweet even promises that not once in his interview were they described as "brothers". The clickbait could not be more obvious, he's pandering to a very specific sub-group of the fandom here. This is an interview for the Buddie shippers. People who care about Eddie's development outside of the shipping question? They can cope without details. It's a Ryan Guzman interview, what more do you need to know?

This has become very normal for 911 related interviews in a way, at least as far as Oliver Stark and Ryan Guzman are concerned. Them not being asked about the ship has become the exception, interviews with at least one Buddie question are the norm. Even other cast and crew members get asked about this on a regular basis, especially Tim Minear. And I sort of get it, I don't like or approve of these clickbait articles, but I get the logic behind it. These online tv articles are mostly read by fans who spend time online as fans and shippers make up a big part of that crowd. There have been many Buddie themed interviews and so far it hasn't meant anything or led anywhere.

This ambiguity also means that Ryan Guzman himself went into the interview with the intention of keeping Buddie shippers' hopes up (no judgement intended). Last year we got several interviews in which he mentioned how important it is to him to portray the "friendship" between a "straight" and a "bisexual" man, etc. In this newest interview he seems to be aiming for a different tone - or at least so the interviewer suggests in his tweets. Why would Ryan Guzman change or adjust his stance on this topic? Probably because Tim Minear or somebody else with similar amount of relevance told him to.

Actors do not just say whatever they like in these interviews. They are told by the higher-ups if there are important things they should bring up or, the other way around, if there are things they absolute cannot say. If "the powers that be" of 911 didn't want the Buddie shippers to think there's something going on then they would take a clearer stance (and they wouldn't film scenes like that leaked good-bye hug out in the open). Then again the interviewer highlights the "open" answers he got from RG, so I'm almost sure that there is nothing in that interview that would actually indicate imminent Buddie canon to anyone looking at it at least a little objectively. Keeping us guessing is keeping the buzz alive in the long run and that's what they need more than anything: For the show to be talked about.

In-universe there are also Buck's and Eddie's unfinished story lines to consider. Eddie is still a complete mess and Buck has not stopped baking or thinking about Tommy yet. Not that 911 has been writing particularly sensible plots recently, but throwing a new relationship into the mix on top of everything else doesn't make much sense to me.

Thinking further into the future, I don't even think that Buddie has zero chances and is under no circumstances ever going to happen. Personally I think that maybe no final decision has been made about it yet either way and everyone involved acts and speaks accordingly.

That's an interesting philosophical question though: Is it still baiting if the 911 gods themselves don't know what they're going to do yet?

I put a cut here because I got side tracked thinking about why I don't believe Buddie will go canon unless the show is about to end.

Eddie and Buck are the two characters on the show where the writers still have a lot of wiggle room in regards of where their journeys are going. Athena and Bobby are going to stay married and keep doing their jobs because otherwise what is the show going to do with them? Hen will stay married with kids, she'll keep her job with the 118 and maybe they'll bring back the work vs. family conflict (the show has been very uncreative in writing exciting stories for her), but what else are they going to do with her character? Chimney and Maddie are going to stay together, they're married now, they have a second kid on the way - what more is the show going to do with them?

There will be short story lines about struggles or disasters or maybe some fun B-plots, but that's it. The show is not going to kill off or break up any of these couples. Maybe Athena or Bobby or both of them will retire / take a desk job shortly before the show ends for good, but until then they won't make any major changes to their lives. Same goes for job opportunities for Hen and Chim. Hen might take over as Captain of the 118 eventually, Chim might take a job at the academy, but none of that is going to happen before the show ends for good because they can't very well split the 118 up before then. Maddie might become floor manager or something, but she needs to stay with the call centre because 911 needs a main character at the call centre to keep functioning.

Either way, a happy end for all 5 of will include them staying with the partner they've been with since forever, still doing the job they love and have had since forever (maybe pepper in a well earned promotion or retirement towards the end) and still being part of the firefam that has existed since forever. We know where their stories end because they're already there.

Buck and Eddie? There is room here, but only if they keep the Buddie question unanswered for now. The very second those two get together we'll know they're endgame - just like we new Madney would be endgame the second they met and just like we knew Bathena would stick together from the start. The moment they answer the Buddie question with "yes", they close every and each opportunity on any surprise twists with serious long term effects. With every other love interest there would be a "will they or won't they last" phase, but Buddie? If they actually went canon then the answer would be "they will". We could still watch Buddie pass the relationship milestones, but there wouldn't be anymore big surprises. 911 would have all their main characters backed into corners with no more room for actual twists to their stories and what kind of show would that be?

Right now we know nothing. Buck might end up dating a woman again. He could end up with a guy. Or a non-binary third option. He might end up moving out of the loft for a different reason. He could decide to adopt a kid without having a partner. Eddie might decide to stay single and concentrate on other things. He might go to therapy again, finally bury Shannon's ghost. The point is we don't know yet, anything could happen and that's part of what keeps the show exciting.

Aside from "keeping their options fluid", the show might also tread carefully on account of the (current) political climate in the US. The show is often described, praised even as very diverse, but is it really?

All the important female characters on the show are married and have children. Actually all the couples are married and have (step) children. Many of the the female characters' story lines revolve around being caretakers: For Carla it's literally her job, Abby is taking care of her mother, Ana is a teacher and Eddie dates her in an attempt to replace his wife, Hen & Karen always get settled with a custody battle story line, Eva only ever comes back to stir up trouble because of Denny, Shannon to this day is mostly the mother of his child in Eddie's mind.

There's exactly one disabled character who is still a child and logically not a first responder. Mental illnesses like Eddie's ptsd and Maddie's ppd are very temporary struggles that can be dropped when a plot line is over and not chronic illnesses. [This makes a little sense for Maddie's ppd, but she also mentions in 5x12 that she has often struggled with depression and suicidal ideation since Daniel died. Yet we never see her have a depressive episode outside tof the season 5 arc.] Buck's chronic pain issues post-ladder truck explosion are purely fanon and Bobby's chronic back pain is only mentioned in a single flashback.

The only religious characters are (Catholic) Christians.

Recently the show has focused a lot on the characters in their nuclear families instead of strengthening the friendships, I'm far from the first or only person to have noticed that.

They gave Captain Arsehole Gerrard a make-over in between seasons which turned him from a slur-spouting bigot into a grumpy grandpa who got his own happy ending working on a tv show with an actor he admires while Ortiz, a woman of colour in a political leadership position, was revealed to be the devil incarnate who got all the blame and all the punishment. Not sure I would've done it that way.

Then there is of course the never-ending copaganda.

Specifically on the topic of queer 911 characters: Until very recently the show had only one type of queer character: "Cut and dried cases" of homosexual characters who appeared rather gender-conforming, led amatonormative life styles (married with kids) and as black characters were already part of 911's "woke agenda" anyway, if I may put it that drastically. Oh, and Josh was there, but as Maddie's personal gay bbf / sidekick with barely any story lines for himself he isn't exactly ground breaking representation in my humble opinion. Of course it's still great to have these characters, especially a couple of black lesbians, but up until season 7 911 represented only gender- and amatonormal gays and lesbians. No trans characters, no aro or ace characters, no m-spec characters, no polyam characters, no ambiguously/unlabeled queer characters. I wanted to point that out.

Now we also have Buck which I count as a big win. They took thee cis-het white man of the show and made him queer 7 seasons into the show. There was some backlash about this last year though and I really am doubtful that 911 would turn both their young single macho men queer while they're already wrestling with slowly declining viewing figures and getting their frankly ridiculous budget approved which they need to keep this show running. That all on top of the recent and ongoing political events. DEI who?

Again, I'm not saying there is no way, but even if they do want to get there (Buddie canon) eventually - if the show wants to keep running for a couple more seasons they will probably wait before making any irreversible decisions on Eddie's sexuality. Until then they will allow more Buddie centric interviews and give vague non-answers, appeasing both people who don't want the ship to go canon and those who want nothing more.

[technicallylovingcomputer]

The Role of NFTs & Blockchain in MMORPGs: A Fad or the Future?

I've been gaming since I was a kid, and I've watched MMORPGs evolve from text-based MUDs to today's sprawling 3D worlds. But lately, there's been a ton of buzz around blockchain and NFTs in MMORPG game development. Everyone seems to have strong opinions, so I wanted to take a moment to cut through the hype and think about what this might really mean for the games we love.

What's Actually Happening Here?

If you haven't been keeping up with crypto gaming news, here's the simple version: NFTs are unique digital tokens that prove ownership of digital items. In MMORPGs, this could mean your epic sword, your character skin, or even your virtual land actually belongs to you—not just the game company.

Several games are already testing these waters. Axie Infinity let players earn real money through gameplay. The Sandbox and Decentraland sell virtual land as NFTs. New titles like Guild of Guardians are trying to create more traditional MMO experiences with player-owned assets.

The Exciting Possibilities

When I think about blockchain in MMORPG game development, I get genuinely excited about a few things:

We might finally solve the ownership problem. How many times have you spent countless hours grinding for gear, only to lose it all when a game shuts down or bans your account? True ownership could change that forever.

Player economies could get way more interesting. EVE Online and Runescape already have fascinating economies, but imagine if the rarity of items was verifiably limited and players had real stakes in the game's success.

Crafters could become legends. In a blockchain MMORPG, a master blacksmith could literally sign their creations, building reputation across the game—or potentially even across multiple games.

The Real Challenges

But let's be honest—there are some serious hurdles that aren't going away soon:

Game balance becomes a nightmare. When items have real-world value, how do you prevent pay-to-win? How do you add new content without crashing the value of existing items? These aren't easy questions for MMORPG game development teams.

The tech isn't quite there yet. Most blockchains still struggle with transaction speed and fees. An active MMORPG needs to process thousands of actions per second—something current blockchain tech isn't built for.

Gamers are (rightfully) skeptical. Many of us have seen companies try to cash in on trends without adding real value to gameplay. The backlash against NFT announcements from major studios wasn't just internet drama—it reflects genuine concern about the future of our hobby.

Finding a Balance

I think the most promising path forward isn't about going all-in on blockchain or rejecting it entirely. It's about thoughtful integration that actually makes games better:

Make ownership optional. Why not have both traditional and blockchain servers? Let players choose what model works for them.

Focus on fun first. The most successful blockchain MMOs will be great games first, investment platforms second. If the game isn't fun without the earning potential, it won't last.

Be transparent about the economy. Players need to understand how items enter the game, what controls inflation, and how the developers make money. Without this transparency, trust breaks down quickly.

So... Fad or Future?

After diving into this topic, I don't think it's either-or. Some elements of blockchain will likely find their way into mainstream MMORPG game development over time, while the more speculative aspects might fade away.

What excites me most isn't NFTs themselves, but the conversations they're sparking about ownership, value, and community in virtual worlds. These are questions worth exploring whether or not a particular technology ends up being the answer.

For developers building new MMORPGs, my advice is simple: if blockchain elements enhance your game experience, consider them—but never at the expense of what makes MMORPGs special in the first place: community, adventure, and that magical sense of being part of something bigger than yourself.

What do you think? Are you excited about owning your virtual gear, or do you think this is just another tech bubble? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

[natsubeatsrock]

Takeaways from Mashima Panel at NYCC '24

Much has been said about Mashima's third trip to NYCC. The stars have aligned for me to make it to the panel with him. I've been going to Comic-Con for years at the Big Apple. I wasn't able to make it to his second trip right after FT ended. Of course, it wasn't as if I missed anything special or potentially controversial.

However, I was already going to Comic-Con this year when Crunchyroll announced they would be hosting a creator panel with Mashima on the Main Stage. I made sure to register my spot for the panel the moment it was available to me.

So, how was it?

Overall, it was an interesting panel. The focus was heavily on Fairy Tail’s sequel. I get that Fairy Tail is easily Mashima's most popular work. He even admitted that it's his favorite for connecting him with people around the world. Still, it's weird to focus on only Fairy Tail. EZ just ended this year, he's been publishing Dead Rock, and he's designing the art for yet another game. Then again, Crunchyroll is streaming the sequel to the anime, so they've got reasons for this.

My biggest complaint would be the moderator. He is a fan of Rave, but his knowledge of Fairy Tail felt lacking. He had to be corrected by fans on the pronunciation of character names. This wouldn't be as big a deal if his company wasn't streaming the show. I don't know if it's a lack of professionalism, but I expected better from Crunchyroll.

Make no mistake, this was the highlight of my con experience. It felt like the whole event was building to this and it didn't disappoint. We got to sit closer to the front than other panels. The only rule was no video of the event. Hopefully, the Crunchyroll ninjas don't come after this post.

I wasn't expecting Mashima to be a big Ichiya fan. I get that you feel for different characters at different times. Given plenty of things, it wasn't the most shocking thing to hear he's Mashima's current favorite. Still, I wouldn't have thought he'd like Ichiya as much as he seemed to. He even said he'd try to get him on the cover of the next game.

I saw several people at the venue writing down the responses for every question asked for him. When I started making this post, I didn't intend to do that. It's not a matter of not caring about Mashima's input. I didn't need to write about every question. There were two questions about the ships. (Will the ships get more development and who should Cana end up with?) 

However, I would be remiss to not mention my favorite questions from the panel. Keep in mind, the answers and questions aren't exactly what was said. However, I've tried to keep everything as accurate as possible.

First, the question that has been getting the most buzz.

What inspired friendship as a major theme in Fairy Tail?

It came from my loneliness. I have no friends.

Yeah. I don't blame anyone for getting this out before other questions.

Some people have noted that Mashima has talked about his friends in creating Fairy Tail. I happen to believe one of two things are at work. For one, it's possible this is more exaggeration than not. He has colleagues and some of his former assistants have become successful mangaka. To that point, he's mentioned how motion sickness was inspired by a friend of his. While he might not be extremely close with people, he might have more people around him than he's led on.

The second opinion is slightly more tragic. It's possible that, in creating so many series, he's been further isolated from the friends he's had. He's been a mangaka for close to 25 years. For perspective, SpongeBob also turns 25 this year. (I went to their panel before the Mashima Panel.) I don't think it's impossible to be lost in his work. Even with his famed work schedule and light-hearted mood with assistants, it wouldn't shock me to find out his social life has suffered.

Either way, this puts the emphasis on friendship in a new light. Since Fairy Tail ended, I've noted that the series is about the relationships inside the guild and how valuable they are. No wonder Mashima writes this as both an incredible motivating force and near-infinite power source. If you don't have that in your life as much as you want, you might feel better writing in your work. Writers have written their wishes and desires in their works forever. Mashima's far from the first, and he definitely won't be the last.

Now, let's get to my question. 

That's right. I got to ask a question. If you went to the panel, I was the second question in the Silk cosplay. I made sure to emphasize my love for Natsu and Lucy's friendship. (Ironically, this was right before the questions about ships.) Of course , I also thanked him for his work. I can't say that my life would be better without his works, despite my complaints.

Are there any characters you wish you could have done more with across your works?

Master Zero (Brain from Oracion Seis) in Fairy Tail 

I tried to lead Mashima towards taking about Lisanna or the Black Airs from Monster Soul, but this isn't a bad alternative. Funny how the anime gave him the connection to Ultear, which I noted years back. However, we didn't see much of him after losing to Jellal in Tartarus. There's no real telling what he might be up to now. 

Does that mean he might show up during the sequel? I doubt it. I'm not quite caught up, but the Strongest Team is in a spot where I doubt he can be a factor. I say that and God Serena came back into the picture. Who knows?

Do you have advice for artists?

Grow in empathy for the world around you.

Creator panels at conventions are always good sources for encouragement for budding creatives. This is no exception. 

This reminds me of Mashima's position not to truly resurrect characters. Questionable applications aside, that's an easy way to show value of life. Once a life is truly lost, they don't just come back. {Insert FMA spoilers here}

There's plenty of things to be inspired by. Mashima has mentioned inspiration for Fairy Tail coming from anywhere. He could be going about his day and an idea would come for Fairy Tail. Personally, my favorite creative ideas come from the hearing or seeing something and adding my own spin to it.

It's helpful to go outside and engage the world around you. 

Gray has resorted to using Iced Shell multiple times throughout the series. When will the poor boy stop?

Eventually.

To Gray's credit, he's been better about wanting to die since the main series ended. It pains me to admit that Gruvia is an important source for this. Still, if he's not going to try some new kind of Iced Shell, Gruvia might not be the worst outcome possible.

Now, if Mashima writes the ship differently…

Will Romeo get more development?

If he's popular with fans.

This is similar to what I've said about minor characters over the years. That said, I believe you know what to do if you're a Romeo fan.

Is there anything you find hard to draw consistently?

One of Erza's armor, which he forgets every time.

This is another question Mashima has answered in the past. It's not like I blame him for this one. It's worth mentioning that he's never had issues with the Fairy Tail anime. Speaking of which…

Will we ever see the Rave Master anime return?

Mashima is more interested in animating his newer works, but maybe in the future.

It's sad to hear, but it makes sense. Right now, EZ’s third season is in development, along with the sequel. Dead Rock will probably get animated eventually. I get not pushing for another shot at Rave.

Then again, you never know. There are always surprising announcements for old and new anime. Maybe some producer and director are hellbent on revisiting Rave as an anime and we’ll find out about it. Perhaps Crunchyroll or Netflix will be willing to bankroll the production of an updated Rave Master. Time will tell.

Why Western influence for Lucy's magic instead of more Eastern spirits?

Mashima is a fan of Saint Seiya. In that show, there are powers based on the Zodiac signs. He was disappointed to see how his sign Taurus was treated in the show. He wanted to make weaker signs from there strong in my series.

Mashima really emphasized his love for Dragon Ball, but this was a cooler revelation. Saint Seiya has a legendary status among older anime. Seeing that it influenced one of the coolest forms of magic is interesting to hear. Maybe I'll have to get into Saint Seiya to compare the spirits.

By the way, the last question came from a Lucy cosplayer who wanted to know if the spirits were based on personal interpretations of the signs. She was disappointed by Cancer, and Mashima joked that it specifically was intentional. At least I hope it was a joke.

As a Capricorn, I love the spirit and wish it was used more. I still wish the Star Dress was a pantsuit.

One more question.

When did you get the idea to make the sequel?

It wasn't my original plan, but I was convinced to do it.

To the surprise of no one paying attention, Mashima didn't originally plan to write the sequel. It seemed obvious to me that Mashima wasn't planning to continue Fairy Tail after it ended. All indications were that he wanted to end the series and work on what would be EZ. The Century Quest didn't seem like something we needed clarification on. If you read the posts I made between the series ending and the sequel being announced, I figured we were done with more Fairy Tail. Dragon Cry would come out and we'd get the last season of the anime. Then, we'd be done with the series.

However, I couldn't have imagined what the sequel has become. It's outlasted EZ and might even outlast Dead Rock. The scope of even the first couple arcs blew the series more open than expected going into the sequel.

For all the hate it gets, Fairy Tail is objectively a successful franchise. It's one of the most well-recognized anime in the world and has sold millions of copies worldwide. Considering Fairy Tail's success as a franchise, it makes sense that the Kodansha suits would want more of the series.

That said, having more of Fairy Tail isn't the worst thing ever. It cleared up much of the loose ends left by the main series. Much of what we've seen is satisfying fan service. (The good kind of fan service.) Jellal’s close to joining Fairy Tail. The Gajevy twins are on the way. The return to Edolas was worth the wait. Even Irene’s happy ending was nicer than I expected. There are plenty of other things I don't like, but other fans have enjoyed. People like seeing the Edolas kids and Gruvia development. 

At the very least, Nalu still isn't canon.

In Conclusion:

When is Mashima coming back to the Big Apple?

[allthingsroleplay]

hi all! i’ve been working on a supernatural/fantasy site for a while now, and i’m looking for some friendly feedback and brainstorming! i’d love to create a space where we can bounce ideas around, build characters, and plot together. instead of a normal site buzz, i’m inviting those interested to join a server where you can hear site updates and share your thoughts. if you want to contribute writing, that’s totally welcome, but it’s not required! it’s a fun way to get involved in development while having early access to the site and connecting with other members.

in the server, i’ll post polls, ask for opinions, and share previews. plus, you’ll have a chance to start creating characters and hashing out plots! this could be a fun, low-commitment way to participate in site building where you’re directly influencing the overall outcome of the site. :’ )

some quicknotes:

supernatural/fantasy. vibes are varied; some aspects of the site are dark, gritty, gothic – others are more whimsical or curious. some inspo is one dark window, grishaverse, the poppy wars, the shadowhunter chronicles, etc. 

original world, set in a bustling city nicknamed the “city of a thousand doors” due to the portals, both known and unknown, that crop up around it. this is known as one of the most progressive places to live as a member of the supernatural; the presence of magic and different species is known throughout the world, but not all areas are friendly to the supernatural.

the time period is similar to modern times, but with a more old-world aesthetic. while there is technology, the “feel” of the world is more akin to howl’s moving castle, the grishaverse, the mirror traveler series, etc.

robust list of species with room to grow if we want! we have the necessary spn species (vamps, werewolves, witches) plus a bunch that are a little less common (sirens, imps, homunculi) and many more.

aesthetics-based rather than fc-based; while this may sound a little iffy, you can still use pictures of faces! there just won’t be any formal claim, and it allows for so much freedom and creativity. i’ve done this on past sites and it worked beautifully, but if you’d like more of an explanation i’d be happy to share examples and answer questions!

the vision is to have lore that is easy to follow, but gives a bunch of inspiring opportunities for plotting. unique and interesting locations for threads! juicy subplots that you can easily fit characters into! plus unique plot buffers built into the lore itself. i really like when sites give you lots of different avenues to explore, in case you need some help with ideas, so i’m really trying to incorporate that here!

a fun magic system that can be utilized in a million different ways, encouraging members to get creative! also, even humans have (optional) ways they can get in on some magical mayhem.

so many different subplots and factions that can help get ideas and inspiration rolling!

i’d like for this to be a public site, but those who are helping in the interim will have early access to start getting things going while finishing touches are applied, then the site can be rolling by the time we officially open!

we have a skin that is already 90% complete, so most of what's left to pin down is some of the writing and community aspects, which is where your feedback and ideas will come in wonderfully! 

so if you'd like to be a part of this community from the beginning stages and offer your input along the way while having fun opportunities to brainstorm and character create with other members, please shoot me a message on discord (sunsmitten). thanks a bunch!

[howlingmoonn]

TW: health concerns, doctors being assholes, vent / rant, long text post

Worried that i may be developing tardive dyskinesia- im on antipsychotic meds and have been for years now, i take a very low dose but have a lot of side effects already and now im getting facial tics relatively often....tho i also get other tics so maybe its some other thing, but ALL my tics are centred around my head/neck/face area. I should see a doctor but a few years ago i was getting vocal tics and facial tics and asked my doctor about it and he said it was just anxiety and its "common for teenage girls to think they have tics because its trendy on social media" so idk. Hes not my doc anymore but i dont trust doctors to really listen to me about my symptoms.

Also been getting migraines all the time, bad pains each month, dizziness, the shakes, and seeing stars and feeling faint and nauseous.....most symptoms of genetic conditions that run in the family, such as diabetes, and pcos, and migraines. Again, i should see a doctor but-

My GP is transphobic and fatphobic and rather rude and ableist which baffles me since shes a DOCTOR. Shes also my mums GP and she constantly tells her she needs to lose weight or have weight loss surgery and that shes not really disabled (she has EDS, POTS, fibro, CFS, amongst other things) shes just lazy and using "buzz words" from the internet (shes had these conditions since before the internet was invented ffs, she just finally has words to describe her symptoms since those conditions weren't widely talked about until recently)!!! The doc also refuses to use my pronouns despite having asked me in the first place or listen to me when I ask about medical transition. She also refuses to acknowledge my chronic pain and menstruation problems (cause of my pain, its constant, and so is the bleeding....also pmdd) saying "all girls feel that way" (um sorry? No? No other girls i know spend weeks with excruciating pain and cant leave the house due to pain and bleeding for at least a week per month if not more. No other girls i know end up in a psych ward because of how bad their suicidal ideation gets before their period is due.). She also refuses to listen to my mum when she peaks on my behalf due to verbal shutdown in the doctors office and inability to make phone calls due to it triggering shutdowns as well, she says im old enough to talk so i need to be in control (i am. I control what my mum says on my behalf. I tell her before we go in what i need to say, and she relays that. I nod or shake my head or shrug to her so she knows my answer to questions. I have a system of taps or sometimes text her to tell her to stop talking or say something further. I AM communicating, i just shut down verbally and cannot communicate to anyone but her when at a doctor appointment) and she won't listen to what my mum says, and asks us to leave when i dissociate and ignore all attempts at communication when she insists i verbally speak to her (at that point, nothing will work, because i feel incredibly pressured and then wont communicate at all to anyone, and often melt down or panic).

^ and no, just cant get a new GP. My current one is an hours drive away because there are none taking new patients in my area, and im out of zone for all the youth services due to my town bordering two regions. If theres any taking patients then its either more than an hour away and simply impractical to get there when needed, or it costs too much to get an appointment. Not to mention my communication struggles are worse with new people, especially doctors, and ive had the same doctor since birth so :/

I also dont have a counsellor or psychiatrist because despite having specific funding for it, there are none in my area! I had a great one then she quit, and the CAMHS one fired me for not speaking (??????) and again, new people? Hard.

Fuck I hate this and my developing health problems. I was healthy my entire life, like i didnt even get a cold more than once every couple years!!! I always had mental health problems but never physical. Now i feel like shit constantly. It all started with puberty which is also when yk, doctors decided that everything was "teenage girl syndrome" or just anxiety 🙄

[wordsofrowan]

From Ashes to Embers

Chapter 17 - I Know Your Heart and You Know Mine

I found myself hanging out more and more with Alix. I was grateful for her I truly was. Our friendship was pretty much the total opposite of the near-persistent nature of Alya. I didn’t feel as stressed or as pressured around Alix as I had Alya. But I guess that could also be due to the history Alix and I had. Alix had always been a good friend to me, and I was glad to know that she always would be as well. 

I also found myself spending more time with Bunnyx. She had said with the new developments in the timeline I would need some extra ‘pushes’ here and there. I was happy with it though and I felt better than I had in a long while. Maybe it was because Bunnyx knew my hero identity and my civilian identity or maybe it was just the reassurance that I actually had someone on my side, someone truly on my side that was giving me a sense of peace. 

Bunnyx had started giving me homework so to speak, giving me certain pages of the Grimoire to study and memorize. Mostly Bunnyx has been making me learn the history of the Miraculous and how it came to be. 

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across my cozy bedroom. I sat on the floor taking notes on certain aspects I found interesting or noteworthy. The scent of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, adding to the tranquil atmosphere. But my peaceful reading session was abruptly interrupted by the incessant vibration of my phone.

Startled, I looked up, my eyes meeting Bunnyx who was perched on my desk, observing me with her bright, mischievous eyes. With a quick glance, I sought her permission, silently asking if I could take the call that had so rudely interrupted my reading. Bunnyx nodded, giving me her blessing.

I picked up my phone, anticipation building as I saw the caller ID. It was Kagami. Curiosity piqued, I answered, my voice filled with intrigue.

"Greetings, Marinette," Kagami's voice flowed through the phone, her tone both elegant and enigmatic. My mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. Why would Kagami be reaching out to me? What could she possibly want?

I took a deep breath, my curiosity overpowering any hesitations I might have had. "Kagami," I replied, my voice laced with a hint of intrigue, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"If you're available, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with you about a recent development," Kagami explained, her tone laced with a sense of urgency. Her words hung in the air, leaving me with a flurry of questions and a growing curiosity about what this "recent development" could possibly be.

My mind buzzed with a whirlwind of questions, each one adding fuel to my already intense curiosity. Why was Kagami reaching out to me? What could this development possibly entail? I turned my gaze towards Bunnyx, silently seeking her approval to venture out and meet Kagami. To my surprise, she responded with a nod and mouthed the words, "Go live your life, Marinette."

With Bunnyx's encouragement, I felt a surge of determination. Without hesitation, I agreed to meet Kagami, my eagerness to unearth the truth propelling me forward.

We settled on a quaint café, a hidden gem nestled within the heart of Paris. As I navigated through the bustling streets, the anticipation tightened its grip on my chest. What awaited me at this charming café? What secrets would Kagami reveal?

The café came into view, its warm lights beckoning me inside. I pushed open the door, greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle hum of conversation. The cozy ambiance wrapped around me, heightening my senses and fueling my excitement.

I spotted Kagami sitting at a corner table, her eyes fixed on something beyond the windowpane, she had one coffee nestled in her hands and one sitting on the table which I assumed must be for me. As I approached, a mixture of curiosity and nervous energy coursed through my veins. What could have prompted Kagami, usually so composed, to initiate this meeting?

"Marinette, thank you for coming," Kagami greeted, her voice tinged with a blend of gratitude and what I could only understand as hurt, “I figured you would be the only person who could understand what I am going through currently.” 

The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laced with a complex mix of emotions. Kagami's voice trembled, revealing traces of gratitude intertwined with the unmistakable ache of heartbreak. Her vulnerability struck a chord deep within me, igniting a surge of compassion and understanding.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice soft and gentle, my concern for Kagami now overpowering any lingering doubts or uncertainties.

Kagami's eyes met mine, her gaze filled with a raw vulnerability that tore at my heart. "I broke up with Adrien," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing as I know you had feelings for him, I thought you might be the only one who truly understands what I'm going through."

A wave of empathy washed over me, mingling with the remnants of my own past infatuation. Memories of unrequited love and shattered expectations resurfaced, reminding me of the pain and confusion that had once consumed me. I reached out and placed a comforting hand on Kagami's trembling one.

"I'm so sorry, Kagami," I murmured, my voice filled with genuine sympathy. "I understand the heartache and the heaviness that comes with a breakup. But I have to be honest with you. My feelings for Adrien have long since faded, and I recently had to end my relationship with Luka."

Kagami's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise mingling with the sadness etched upon her face. She withdrew her hand, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I had no idea," she admitted, her voice a delicate mix of regret and acceptance.

“It’s not your fault, Kagami," I whispered, my voice filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I kinda hid it from everyone too, you know? And let's not forget the massive fight I had with Alya and the rest of the girls, resulting in me cutting them all out of my life except for Alix. So, I guess you can say I'm not really coping well either..." I trailed off, shaking my head to push away the weight of my own struggles. "But never mind that. What happened between you and Adrien? Why did you break up?"

A heavy sigh escaped Kagami's lips, her eyes welling up with tears as she began to share the painful truth. "I found out he was lying to me," she confessed, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Every time we were on a date, he would disappear without explanation, leaving me feeling abandoned and confused. It reached a point where I couldn't ignore it anymore, and the resentment started to eat away at me. So, I confronted him about it, hoping that maybe there was an explanation. But instead of coming clean, he dared to lie to my face, playing with my emotions. It was only after pushing him further that he finally admitted he wasn't actually in love with me."

"Oh, Kagami," I whispered, my voice heavy with compassion. "I'm so sorry. I know how much you liked Adrien, and it's absolutely devastating to discover that someone you cared for was not being honest with you. You deserve so much better than that."

Kagami's breath hitched as she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I knew him, Marinette. I truly believed that we had something special. But the lies...they shattered that illusion. It's hard to comprehend how someone can claim to care for you and yet deceive you so effortlessly."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, I couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty knowing that that had been the same exact reason Luka and I had to break up. I squeezed Kagami's hand, offering a small gesture of support. "You're right, Kagami. It's difficult to fathom how someone can play with our emotions like that. But remember, it's a reflection of their shortcomings, not your worth."

Kagami's eyes searched mine, a mixture of gratitude and determination shining through her tears. "You're right, Marinette. I won't let this define me. I will rise above it and find the strength to move forward."

Kagami smiled warmly, her gratitude shining through her watery eyes. "Thank you for being my friend, Marinette. I don't know what I would do without you."

Touched by her words, I reached across the table, squeezing Kagami's hand gently. "No, Kagami, thank you. I needed this too. Sometimes, in the midst of our own struggles, we forget the power of connection and the healing it can bring."

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of our shared experiences forging a bond that felt unbreakable. The café buzzed with the sounds of conversation and clinking cups, but within our little bubble, it was as if time had stood still.

As I sipped my coffee, the bitter warmth soothing my soul, I couldn't help but reflect on the serendipity of this encounter. What had initially seemed like an unexpected twist of fate had turned into a profound lesson in empathy and resilience.

"I'm glad we found each other, Kagami," I said softly, my voice tinged with sincerity. "Through our pain, we've discovered the strength to support one another. Together, we can face whatever challenges lie ahead."

Kagami nodded, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. "I may have lost love, but I've gained a true friend in you, Marinette. And that means more to me than anything."

The café's atmosphere seemed to shift, imbued with an undercurrent of hope and resilience. The world outside may have been chaotic and unpredictable, but within the confines of our friendship, we had created a sanctuary of support and understanding.

As we finished our coffees, a sense of calm settled over us. The weight of our troubles hadn't disappeared entirely, but now, we carried it together. We had become each other's pillars of strength, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee still lingered in the air as Kagami and I finished our cups. With a bittersweet smile, we exchanged one final hug, our arms wrapped tightly around each other as if trying to hold onto the moment forever.

As we released each other, a sense of longing filled the space between us. We stood there for a moment, silently taking in the weight of our parting. The café, once a sanctuary of connection, now felt empty without Kagami's presence.

With a deep breath, Kagami turned to leave, her steps carrying her toward her own journey of healing and growth. I watched her retreating figure, feeling a mixture of sadness and hope. Our paths may have diverged for now, but I knew that our bond would remain unbreakable.

As I stepped out of the café, the world seemed to have transformed. The nightlife of Paris stretched before me, bustling with life and endless possibilities. While I may have felt a tinge of loneliness without Kagami by my side, I also felt a newfound sense of strength.

I leisurely strolled my way back home, the weight of recent events pressing upon me. Countless questions swirled in my mind, each one vying for attention. Should I transfer schools? The idea of starting fresh, away from the painful memories, held a certain allure. Perhaps I could convince Alix to join me, ensuring that I would still have a trusted friend by my side. And then there was Kagami... If I could only find out which school she attended, maybe I could have both of my closest friends within reach.

A pang of apprehension shot through me as I realized that Luka and Kagami attended the same school. The thought of seeing Luka again, with his gentle eyes and soothing voice, was both comforting and unsettling. It was too soon, too raw. I didn't feel ready to face him, not when my heart still ached from the remnants of our past love.

As I absentmindedly walked along the Seine, the sound of delicate guitar strings being strummed caught my attention. I turned my head to the left and saw Luka, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the frets, accompanied by Jagged Stone himself. The music filled the air, creating a melodic backdrop to my swirling emotions.

My heart ached as I watched Luka, his face serene and at peace. It was clear that music was his solace, a way for him to express himself when words failed. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing, a yearning to be close to him once again.

As the final notes faded away, applause erupted from a small crowd that had gathered. I glanced over and saw Noemi, their eyes shining with admiration, as they ran up to Luka and enveloped him in a tight hug. My heart shattered into a million pieces, a single tear escaping my eye as I realized that Luka had found comfort in someone else's arms.

Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, I turned on my heels and ran back to my house, seeking solace in the familiarity of my own space. The tears flowed freely as I allowed myself to grieve the loss of what once was.

Heart pounding in my chest, I rushed back to my house, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume me. As I entered my room, I was greeted by an eerie silence, the weight of the day's events still heavy upon me.

But as I took a moment to catch my breath, I felt a strange shift in the air. A sense of unease washed over me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Instinctively, my gaze darted around the room, searching for any signs of the source of this unsettling presence.

And that's when I saw him.

Standing in the corner of my room was a man, tall and bald, dressed in a striking red and brown guardian monk suit. His eyes held a wisdom and intensity that seemed beyond his years, and he clutched a staff tightly in his hand. 

Fear mingled with curiosity as I cautiously approached the mysterious figure. His presence exuded an aura of ancient knowledge and power, leaving me both fascinated and apprehensive. I couldn't help but wonder what had brought him to my room, what message or purpose he carried within him.

“Who are you!” I yelled as I grabbed the bo staff tucked away in my room, “And what do you want?!” 

His presence exuded an aura of ancient wisdom and power, his calmness contrasting with the intensity that radiated from him. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the room as he introduced himself, "I am Grand Master Su-Han, the celestial guardian of the Miracle Box."

My heart skipped a beat, and confusion washed over me. "But I am the Guardian of the Chinese Zodiac Box," I said, my voice almost weak with disbelief. The realization that I may not be the true guardian after all struck me with a sense of betrayal.

Tikki chimed in with her gentle voice, "The celestial guardian was in charge of it before the incident caused by Master Fu."

My mind raced, trying to process the information. So many questions flooded my thoughts. How had I been chosen as the guardian if I wasn't the rightful one? And how had Grand Master Su-Han managed to track me down?

Seeking answers, I mustered the courage to ask, "And how did you come to find me?"

Grand Master Su-Han's piercing gaze met mine, and he explained, "A guardian's staff holds a compass that allows the boxes to be tracked at all times. It led me to you, Marinette."

A pang of jealousy and frustration surged through me at the mention of the guardian's staff. "Hey, that's not fair! How come I didn't get one then?"

The grand master's expression softened, and he replied, "You did not receive one, little girl, because you are not a true guardian. This is all a misunderstanding, and the incorrect shape of the box proves it."

The words hit me like a blow, shattering the trust I had placed in Master Fu and the sense of purpose that had guided me thus far. Hurt and betrayal welled up inside me, threatening to consume me. "But I don't understand," I said, my voice choked with emotion, "I thought Master Fu trusted me..."

"Fu?! As in Wang Fu? Also known as Whiny Chicken Legs Fu?" Su-han's voice rang out, almost screeching as he did so. "That incompetent disciple unable to spend one entire day without eating, or doing a thousand finger push-ups?! Fu should never have been a guardian. That low-life never lived up to the hopes that were placed in him."

Defending Master Fu's honor, I mustered the courage to speak up, my voice tinged with frustration. "Master Fu may have made mistakes, but he dedicated his life to protecting the box and the Miraculous. He sacrificed everything to keep us safe, including his own memories."

Su-Han's eyes narrowed, his disbelief evident as he turned to face me. "You speak as if he's some noble hero. But where is the evidence of his greatness? Look around you! The Miraculous are missing from the box. He's lost a Miraculous too?! He's even more incompetent than I thought."

Curiosity piqued, Su-Han approached the Miracle Box, a sacred artifact that held the key to the world's protection. His gaze scanned the empty slots, his fingers tracing the vacant spaces that once held the Miraculous. But his attention was drawn to one specific absence.

"Plagg? Little girl, where is Plagg?" Su-Han demanded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.

"Now that I do know," I said, my voice tinged with apprehension, "Plagg is with his holder, Chat Noir."

Su-Han's eyes narrowed as he further pressed the issue, his curiosity getting the better of him. "And just who is this Chat Noir?" he demanded, his tone laced with skepticism.

I shifted uneasily, feeling the weight of Master Fu's teachings and the importance of secrecy pressing down on me. "Well, you see about that..." I stammered nervously, "Master Fu said we must always keep our identities a secret. Even from each other."

A look of disbelief washed over Su-Han's face, his expression a mix of frustration and disdain. "So this is the Modern World? Protected by a group of naive children? Pathetic," he scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. "A Guardian is never supposed to wear a Miraculous. Along with the fact that there are missing Miraculous and Plagg, of all Kwamis, is out roaming free! I guess the end of dinosaurs and dragons isn't enough of a warning."

His words struck a nerve within me, stirring a mix of defiance and doubt. Su-Han's presence was a reminder of the weight of responsibility that rested upon my shoulders. The legacy of the Miraculous and the protection of the world were not tasks to be taken lightly.

In a fit of frustration, Su-Han slammed his staff into the ground, the force reverberating through the air. "Enough of this!" he bellowed, his voice commanding attention. "Kwamis, return to your yin-yang positions within the box!"

“What do you think you're doing!” I yell out as all the kwami, minus Tikki, return to the box and He puts the box into his bag. 

Su-Han's eyes gleamed with a mix of authority and disdain as he pulled out a weathered book, its pages filled with ancient wisdom. It bore a striking resemblance to the Guardian Grimoire that Master Fu had entrusted to me.

"Let me remind you about some of the Perfect Precepts that you have broken," Su-Han declared, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. He flipped through the pages with reverence until he found the section he sought. "Precept 14: Kwamis must not live outside the box," he recited, his voice firm and unwavering. He continued flipping through the book, each turn revealing another transgression. "Precept 52: Guardians must never lose a Miraculous," he stated, his tone growing more accusatory with each word. "Precept 133: A guardian cannot, under any circumstances, wear a Miraculous."

The weight of Su-Han's words settled upon me, a heavy realization of the ancient rules I had unknowingly transgressed.”But Master Fu wore a miraculous.” I said meekly

"Precisely!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with triumph. "That just proves what I've been saying all along! Neither you nor Fu were up to the role of Guardian because neither of you has respect for the ancient absolute rules of our order!" His words echoed through the temple, the weight of centuries of tradition resonating in each syllable. "Not to mention the fact that no child should be a keeper of Kwamis! They are ultra-powerful cosmic entities! One must manage them with authority, which you are obviously incapable of doing."

"I would say I was doing a pretty good job of being a Guardian to the Kwamis!" I retorted, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. The tears threatened to spill over, but I held them back, determined not to show weakness in front of Su-Han.

He scoffed dismissively, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "Enough of this! Take me to Chat Noir, little girl!" he demanded, his voice dripping with impatience.

Caught between Su-Han's demand and my own instincts, I turned to Tikki, her wise eyes met mine, flickering with uncertainty.

"Do you think this is a good idea, Tikki?" I asked, my voice filled with doubt. I desperately needed her guidance in this moment of crisis.

Tikki shook her small head, her red pigtails swaying with the motion. "I don't know, Marinette," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "It might be best to do as he says. After all, he is the Celestial Guardian."

Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. "I guess you're right, Tikki," I conceded, my voice laced with determination. "But I won't let Su-Han dictate our every move. I'll find a way to protect Chat Noir while still fulfilling his demand."

With those words, I called upon the power of the Miraculous. "Tikki, spots on!" I exclaimed, my voice ringing out with unwavering resolve. In an instant, my transformation began, and I emerged as Ladybug.

Su-Han's eyes widened in shock and disapproval as he watched my transformation. "What are you doing with your weapon?" he bellowed, his voice filled with outrage.

I held up my yo-yo, a determined glint in my eyes. "Well, this is my bug-phone," I explained, my voice steady despite the rising tension. "It's how Chat Noir and I communicate, allowing us to coordinate our efforts and protect Paris."

Su-Han's anger seemed to simmer down, replaced by a grudging acceptance. "So, you do not have to send doves to communicate?" he asked, his voice softened slightly by curiosity.

I nodded, taking a moment to compose myself before leaving a message for Chat Noir. I swiftly dialed his number on my yo-yo, relaying the details of Su-Han's arrival and instructing him on where we should meet.

XoXo Rowan

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[asheewrites]

Well now we gotta know what the two big boys have to say about the twiddle foxy friend and who gets to keep custody. Heaven, Hell or Raphael?

Whistling, Raphael went downstairs and was barely through meat-assembly (rabbit today... it had been a well grown critter, one was enough) and in the middle of cutting some carrots for the creature, when his phone already buzzed in his pocket.

Unfortunately, he knew from whom it was, so he had to wash his hands and get the phone out.

It read:

'Hello Raphael,

In case of your guest staying with you, Hell needs to be contacted for permission, not only information, to avoid misunderstandinga about us holding an Agent of theirs hostage. Please contact me when you receive a reply. Until it is clear whether Hell will send someone to pick it up ASAP or allow it to stay in your care, keep it under strict supervision. It is imperativ that you keep it in the clinic, for its own and human safety. Please report negative changes in behaviour immediately. Thank you for your diligence in reporting this as soon as you had assessed the situation. Looking forward to hearing from you.

ꙮ Metatron'

... the manufacturer or the software developer probably hadn't shelled out for a Metatron's Cube as a sign. Why he would sign twice if it were the case was a different question, but well.

This...

He was glad he's washed his rands, because he rubbed his eyes before oinching his nose. This was just... well. It was not pleasant.

There certainly was no hostage-holding if the creature in question could leave at any time. Like any creature should be able to at any time. Not that most animals had a desire for this kind of thing when they were held in a reasonable state. Of course, the order to keep it in the clinic and under strict supervision at all times would turn this into some kind of hostage situation. But... he had contacted hell. He had been diligent and if anyone asked, he had the orders in written form in front of him.

Bloody hell. He just liked imprisoning people, didn't he. Favourite hobby. Kch.

With a little twitch in his brow, he sent back:

'Hello Metatron, I have reached out to hell and will report as soon as a message arrived. The fox will remain safe in my private rooms. Behaviour unchanged. Raphael'

There. Due diligence and all. Maybe he would need to build enrichment for the creature. And if he needed to add a new room to his place. TARDIS-ing his home. Or something. When he figured how that even worked. But angelic abilities could do more ridiculous things. Somehow creating more space where there isn't... the worst thing Raphael could imagine, so... he would see.

For now: Finishing the carrots, starting the celery. Stuffing the whole meal into the fridge upstairs.

And maybe he should look more into enrichment for foxes. If it had no choice but to stay, he should definitely look that up. Sure, the creature might be older than himself, and not actually a fox, but it certainly didn't talk to him.

Puzzle boxes for food it was! He had still some wood laying around... and about ten hours of time. He could make something to get... maybe dried meat hidden in the the next day? Cardbord boxes he would be able to find no find no problem. Maybe he could put balls in the bathtub? But a kiddie pool might be more suitable. He really did need more space...

Well. Off to work he was. After informing the critter - or, more accurately, the thin air of his flat: "Hey, my invisible guest, I have to keep you in here or at least under supervision for the next few days. Not my call, but you don't seem to mind right now. I'll try to make your stay more bearable." Nothing answered. If it had been the right time of year, crickets would have something more to say. So he sighed, but added: "And I'll call you Kazu from now on. Not very demonic, but it's a name, so, Kazu, good night to you!" It probably needed to digest the meat - and vegetables - anyway.

Off he was to the attic and... mh... if he cleared that one up a little more, that might be an option. For now, there was just some cardboard boxes to grab and bring down. And then... a saw to create a puzzle box. It could not be too hard.

...

When it was time to walk downstairs, he wasn't sure if he could simply not do math... or if the measurements were simply out of wack. Fact was: Nothing fit together. Better luck next time, he supposed. The fox would not be harmed by any of that. So he served breakfast: "Kazu! Breakfast's ready!"

Not that he expected a response. The waterbowl was full too... looking at it, and considering normal foxes... it might be nice if it was a well, always providing fresh water. Like with cats? But that was another project.

Downstairs, he greeted his team and received the customary hugs and his usual stack of correspondence. Mostly letters, the advertisements, bills and reports get already sorted by Amurel.

At the table, he found a thank you letter from a patient (with pictures), a report from one of his angels in more critical areas, gathering field experience, other correspondences he would need to pen down in the break and then... a letter with a sticky note.

'Was like this in the post bin, no one brought it there, but there it is. Be careful? Amurel'

Huh. The letter was a sealed piece of paper. 'To Raphael' it said, with a flourish. And, indeed, held no adress. Well. He photographed the seal to maybe figure something out later, if the insides weren't revealing.

So he opened the folded sheet and read the following words, written with flourish in blue, sparkly ink:

'Dearest Raphael,

Congratulations on your new pet! I see no reason as to why you shouldn’t be permitted to keep it, provided you feel confident in your ability to handle it safely. Unfortunately, it sounds as though its previous owner was no suitable fit - I assure you this incident will be investigated and the individual reprimanded accordingly.'

SHIT. A quick glance to the end of the letter confirmed suspicions, it was Asmodeus. SO. He grabbed the phone and composed a quick message:

'Asmodeus, PLEASE do not investigate OR reprimand the guy. They needed help and came here and we helped. And that could happen because demons slowly started to trust us. I did not mean to incriminate them, it was simply an explanation why I did not send the fox down immediately. They guy is probably punished enough for having lost his pet. And feeling in some of his arm. We don't need a rumor that the clinic rats people out. In whatever way there is. It's nice that angels and demons can meet here on neutral ground. Armistice is a good reason. If at all possible, just... leave them be? Please? Since they came here, they at least knew they did something very wrong. Give them a chance to better themselves?'

He really was an idiot for not expecting that. Asmodeus liked animals, for all he knew. And currently he might still make examples out of people. Aaargh.

Well, he still continued reading:

'As for your new friend, do be careful of its pointy bits. It may be foolish to assume without seeing it firsthand but I can’t imagine it would differ too greatly from an Earthly fox; they can be snappy when frightened and are easy to startle. Please expect a courier within the next few days with the following supplies, provided free of charge: 1 bag of DevilKitty Kibblez brand fox chow, 1 medium memory foam pet bed, 3 assorted toys, 1 enchanted safety muzzle, 1 collar and lead. In the mean time, I should think meat, fish, fruits and vegetables would make for a suitable diet. It may beg for souls of the damned, but those should be given sparingly and only as treats for good behavior.

Thank you for reaching out and please let me know should you need any further assistance. We also request pics at your earliest convenience.

Best wishes,

Emperor Pro Tempore and Great King of Hell

Asmodeus

xoxo As 💙'

Fish. He had forgotten about fish. And fruit, to be honest. As for the soul... he tapped his phone in thought.

'Hello again, Asmodeus. I apologize for the sudden message. Morale of patients is something I have to pay close attention to. Usually.

Anyway. I thank you very much for the allowance and the help for a new demonic pet-carer. I hope you understand that souls of the damned might have to be stricken from it's menu. If that is a problem, I obviously can not handle them. Angels and souls of the damned are not too good a mix.

For now, my guest still evades sightings. Pictures will follow when it has acclimatised some more.

Now, is angel blood good or bad for the critter. I don't mind being bitten in fear, but I don't want it to suffer from... holy-poisoning?

I'll get back to you when there is a chance for pictures or I am overwhelmed by fox-entity. Thanks again!

Sincerely yours

Raphael

P.S.: 'Pro Tempore' mh?'

For whom DID he stand in that comes back any time soon? But alright. More pressing was the question if the XOXO was an indictation for a greeting he... wanted? Hugs and kisses? He was used to them, but... usually from his team and not... well... the emperor of hell, he supposed. From what he had seen, it was not an actionable thing, but... why?

Anyway.

'Hello Metatron. I got permission and allowance from hell, no worries anymore. Raphael.'

There. Done. Therapy! Physical, to be exact. Some people were not meant to stretch their own wings in their corporation. They tended to dislocate their shoulders and screw up their whole musculature. Time to warm his hands properly.