#Are we up to five or six now in 2025?

[noxemma]

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 4

In which the real world threatens to ruin your happiness.

Warnings: angsttttttttt :) fluff at the end tho!! Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 3.6k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted:

yourusername life lately ❤️ BFFSarah omg, someone who loves pizza just as much as Stelly Belly??? >>>yourusername they polished off a large pizza between the two of them. It was a sight to see. >>>land-ho WE WERE HUNGRY. >>>yourusername you bet my six year old she couldn't eat 4 pieces of pizza, sir. >>>land-ho AND SHE PUT DOWN FIVE! Proudest moment of my LIFE. >>>yourusername 🙄

land-ho (private) posted

land-ho party of three? smoooooth_operator it was good to see you two last night! >>>yourusername dinner was delicious, C!! tell R thank you for all the shopping reccos in Barcelona 🤭 >>>landonorris oh god, my wallet already hurts >>>yourusername well now i'm never going to beat the sugar baby allegations. >>>honeybadger y'all are a walking PR nightmare waiting to happen. kelly_pickme i must meet your two favorite girls soon! bring them to Monaco soon! >>>yourusername 😘 did L give M the lion plushie and princess dress for baby and P? can't wait to meet you all soon!! >>>kelly_pickme yes! P hasn't taken it off and the lion is a hit as well. >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

Miami May, 2025

"Okay, anything else you guys want to talk about before we start filming?" Victor, the team's head of communications, asks on Thursday afternoon.

Victor sits in one of the several conference rooms located in McLaren's hospitality suite surrounded by the rest of the communications team as well as Lando and Oscar. The weekend debrief is wrapping up as he asks one last question.

"Actually, kind of." Lando clears his throat, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

The entire team turns to him then and he feels his face go a bit red. He hadn't really planned on making a big deal of this in front of the team but after his meeting with Zak earlier, he thought he should at least let the comms team in on what he was going to do tonight.

"What's up?" Victor prompts, tucking his iPad under his arm.

"Well, it's more of a 'heads up' kind of thing but Zak thought I should let you guys know that I'm planning on going public with my girlfriend tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lando sees Oscar smirk. He can almost hear the 'well it's about time' teasing he's about to get when they wrap up this meeting.

Victor blinks, casting a sideways glance at Melanie, Lando's main press officer for the weekend. He could tell Victor was reluctant to agree but in all honesty, this wasn't his call and Lando was ready to make that known. "What were you planning on doing?"

Melanie pulls out a notepad to take notes, just in case she's asked about the relationship this weekend.

You were also in Miami this weekend for your second race of the season and the subject had come up last night as you were cuddled up in bed after Lando had posted about you and Stella on his private account for the first time. You had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring the team or Lando any drama during the race weekend but he had been insistent. While you hadn't been together officially for very long, you spent nearly every spare moment together and Stella had become a huge part of Lando's life too. He was tired of being linked to endless Instagram models and having to hide you away from the public.

Lando shrugs. "Nothing big or anything, just a post of my feed with her, some kind of witty caption."

"She's the one who works in the accounting department?" Melanie asks.

Lando can't help but glare at the woman. She's in her mid-30s with mousey brown hair and wire rimmed glasses. Melanie was kind enough but sometimes Lando wondered if she had any of the media training that was forced on him and Oscar with the kinds of questions she asked him.

"No, she's on the product development team, and she's right over there." Lando tips his chin towards the large glass windows that looks out onto the rest of the hospitality suite where you sit at one of the tables typing away at your laptop.

"Isn't she a single mom?"

Again, Lando glares at Melanie as the rest of the team shifts uncomfortably in their seat. Sure, it was their job to handle any press inquiries that came into the office and sometimes there were personal questions that got asked, but that one was toeing the line of appropriate.

"I don't see why that makes any sort of difference." Oscar surprises everyone by speaking up, his tone a bit colder than usual. "I've worked with her a lot lately, she's a lovely person and wicked smart. Lando's a lucky guy."

"Thanks, mate." Lando murmurs before turning back to Victor. "HR is aware of our relationship and, not that it should matter," Lando looks pointedly at Melanie once again, and is pleased to see her look a bit sheepish as if she's just realized how inappropriate her questions had been. "But Zak is also aware that we're together and has given us his blessing too."

That had been an awkward conversation but Lando admired the McLaren CEO too much to leave him in the dark about something that involved his two employees. He'd scoured the McLaren employee handbook (thankfully there was nothing in it against fraternization of employees, so HR hadn't been a problem either) before approaching Zak first to tell him about the relationship. If there was anyone that Zak Brown loved more than Lando, it was you so of course he had been ecstatic at the news and had immediately given the relationship his full support.

Without waiting for further comment from anyone, Lando gets up and strides out the door, furious at how the ending of the meeting had gone. There were far more problematic WAGs in the paddock and you were a McLaren employee after all, shouldn't you expect the same support from the team as he did? He didn't really understand why it was such a big deal that you were a single mom or technically a coworker.

From your spot in the middle of the hospitality suite you can see when Lando walks out of the conference room, hyper aware of the way his shoulders are hitched up towards his ears, something that only happens when he's upset or stressed.

"Momma!" Your attention is drawn back to your phone where Stella sits on FaceTime before her bath for the evening. You'd been distracted by Lando's sudden shift in mood and had stopped listening to her mid-story.

"Sorry, baby. I'm listening. You and Cora had a good playdate today, yeah?"

Stella prattles on, seemingly satisfied with the half-attention you're now paying her again. But your focus is pulled elsewhere for a moment as you watch a girl you know is on the comms team follow Lando out of the conference room and into his drivers room. You couldn't remember her name but knew that she was working with Lando this weekend as his press officer so it didn't impress you as unusual that she was following him. Maybe something had been said in the meeting and she was going to try to calm him down.

"Momma, can I talk to Lando now?" Stella sighs and you grin. You were beginning to think that your daughter loved Lando a bit more than you the way she constantly asked about him and wanted to see him.

"I think he just walked into a meeting, S but how about we do this. Why don't you go take a bath and by the time you're done, Lando should be finished with his meeting and you can talk to him then."

Stella nods, seemingly happy about the arrangement. You say a quick goodbye before packing up your laptop to go check in on Lando. You were essentially done for the day so you had planned on hanging out with a few of the engineers during their meetings this afternoon before going to dinner with Lando later that night. And then you fully planned on spending the rest of the evening underneath your boyfriend.

You can see the door to Lando's driver's room ajar and you can hear raised voices floating out. Hesitating, you pause with your hand on the door handle. The conversation sounded heated and you didn't want to interrupt. You swear you didn't want to eavesdrop but Lando's shouting didn't leave you much choice.

"What the fuck do you mean the team doesn't want a 'Kelly Piquet 2.0 situation?"

Oh. Oh dear.

You had known Lando was going to tell the team of his plan to hard launch you on his socials tonight and by the sounds of it, it hadn't gone well.

"Lando," The woman, you think her name is Melanie or something, tries to sooth him. "All we're saying is maybe you should think of how this could impact her daughter. When Max and Kelly went public, it was a shit show."

"Yeah, because her father is a racist piece of shit." He spits.

"And she was accused of being a predator!" Melanie fires back. "All I'm saying is that maybe right now isn't the best time to launch a potentially controversial girlfriend."

Your blood goes cold. Controversial? There was nothing in your past that you were ashamed about. No racist relatives. No sex tape scandals or even potentially embarassing photos somewhere out on the internet. You had, all things considered, a pretty wholesome reputation. Everyone at McLaren loved you, as far as you were aware. With the apparent exception of Melanie.

"Controversial? Please, elaborate." Lando's voice goes deadly calm, as if he knows exactly what she's going to say but wants her to say it out loud.

"Lando." Melanie sighs and you take a step back, unsure if you want to hear what she has to say. "She's a young, single mom who got knocked up at nineteen years old." Melanie practically laughs, as if Lando is a complete idiot for not understanding. "There's no way she won't be seen as a gold digger or worse! She's going to be eaten alive on socials. I'm only looking out for her daughter's reputation. Don't be so naive, Norris."

Your fists clench up so tightly, the bite of your nails in your palms pulls you out of a near rage. It takes every ounce of control not to go straight into Lando's room and give that bitch a piece of your mind.

On the other side of the door, Lando swears he sees red and has to take a step away. "This is about your workload, isn't it? You don't want to deal with the awkward questions and the drama? Listen very closely to me, Melanie okay? Because I'm not going to repeat myself." The venom in Lando's voice startles you. "The three of us are a package deal now, do you understand? I am madly in love with that woman out there and her little girl? Her little girl is the center of my world too. I don't give a flying fuck if me being with her means more work for you, that's too fucking bad. If you can't handle it, I'm positive Zak will be happy to replace you. She's here to stay, you are replaceable. Understood?"

Hearing Lando say he loves you and Stella has your world tilting underneath your feet. He'd never said that to you before even though you'd been confident for a while now that he did feel that way. And that you felt the same way.

Melanie's reply is so soft, you don't hear it but moments later, the door flies open so fast you're forced to jump back bit. Melanie's flushed face looks horrified when she sees you standing in the hall. She can't hold eye contact with you for longer than a flicker of a moment before she's dashing down the hall.

Lando stands in the doorway looking horrified that you're standing there. "How much of that did you hear?"

Tears burn at the back of your eyes, your anger at Melanie now replaced with sheer embarrassment. Even if she had been the one to voice it, you were certain Melanie wasn't the only one who was thinking the same thing.

"Everything." You whisper as you look away, brushing at a tear that rolls hotly down your face.

"Goddamnit." Lando swears, shoving a hand through his curls. He hadn't even noticed his door was open after Melanie had followed after him. "Baby..." He reaches for you and you let him pull you to him, his steady warmth a comforting feeling as the panic rises in your chest.

"She's right, you know." You whisper into his chest so softly Lando nearly misses it.

Lando pulls back and the look of desperation on his face nearly breaks your heart. "What are you talking about?"

"The hate we're going to get. I'm going to get. She had a point, you have to admit. I'm a young, single mom dating a millionaire? People are going to think all I'm interested in is your money, just like they did with Kelly."

"Who cares what people think? Who cares what they say about us? The people in our lives that really matter know that's not why you're with me. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Until they start in on Stella. Have you seen some of the things they say about P?"

You were pretty confident you could handle any hate that you got but you knew that the moment you saw any hate towards your little girl, you'd be devastated. It had been something you'd been thinking about since Lando had brought up going public last night but you had been able to brush it aside. It hadn't seemed possible, the worry seeming far away and a little over dramatic but now? Now Melanie's words had anxiety twisting in your stomach.

"That's not going to happen." Lando pulls you deeper into his chest and nuzzles into your neck. He can practically feel you pulling away from him and terror shoots through him.

"You don't know that. Even if it doesn't, do you really want to spend the rest of this relationship constantly defending me? Defending us? That's no way to live, Lando. Melanie was right. I'm controversial and maybe we need to rethink this."

Lando's entire world stops spinning, his breath catching in his throat. "Wh...What? No, baby, no. Please don't do this. Don't pull away. Melanie is being hysterical. Nothing like that is going to happen."

If he had to get on his knees and beg you not to leave him, Lando would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm not doing anything, I just need a minute to think okay?" You step out of his grasp, instantly missing his touch. You can't even look him in the eye, knowing that if you do you'll crumble. But you can't think of Lando or even yourself right now. "I have to consider what's best for Stella, okay?"

"Don't do this." Lando begs.

"I think I'm going to stay in my own room tonight." You whisper, voice straining with emotion as you barely contain the heartache in your tone.

"Is this the end?" Lando chokes out as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He's sure you'd step away if he tried to touch you right now and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that kind of rejection from you. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him and the only thing that could right this was you.

Tears stream down your face as you struggle for an answer. "No." You tell him after a moment and the relief that floods Lando's face nearly breaks your heart. "I just need some space to think is all, I promise."

"Can we still have dinner tonight?"

"I think it'd be best if I just spend the evening alone." It hurts, saying those words because you rarely get this much alone time with Lando but you need space so badly your skin begins to itch. You're desperate to get some distance from the paddock and the team and even Lando himself, to right yourself back to the proper head space. You had to consider Stella above your own heart.

If it was possible to die from a broken heart, Lando knew he was about to find out. He lets you go though, watching miserably from the spot he's rooted to on his floor as you back away slowly, almost like you're retreating from a dangerous animal or something.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

All he can do is nod as he watches you walk out the door for what he hopes isn't the last time.

You're just finishing the last bits of your makeup when there's a knock on your door Friday morning. You were a bit surprised because you knew full well that Lando had a key but the fact that he was nervous to use it after what had happened yesterday tugs at something in your chest.

You had been in the shower when he texted you that morning and the string of texts nearly broke your heart. You hadn't wanted to put him through that kind of pain but you had needed to take a moment to think through what had happened with Melanie and the comms team yesterday.

Slipping the robe Lando had gotten you in Japan a few weeks ago, you pad towards the door to open it. You're stopped completely in your tracks when you swing it open and get a glimpse of Lando in the hallway. He looks absolutely ravaged, like he didn't sleep a single second the night before, eyes red rimmed and puffy.

"Lan..." You whisper, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You reach for him, utterly perplexed suddenly as to why you had felt you needed distance from him.

When he folds you into his arms, the damn finally breaks and you sob into him, the entire previous day's emotions coming to a head. The way you finally feel complete when he's got you in his arms is unlike anything you've ever felt and for a brief moment yesterday, you had forgotten that fact.

When he kisses you, cradling your head in his hands, everything else quiets. The doubts, the fear, the anxiety. It all fades into the background with his lips on yours and you sigh into his mouth. For the first time on 24 hours you feel relieved, like you can actually tackle this issue instead of feeling like you're going to drown in your own thoughts.

Lando tugs you over to the bed, pulling you into his lap as he sits against the headboard. You tuck into his body as close as you can, head folded into that space between his neck and shoulder, drinking in the smell of him: fresh from the shower and slightly spicy from his cologne.

For several minutes, you both just sit there. Lando struggles to contain the relief that is flooding his body. He'd been absolutely miserable last night, eventually working himself into a panic attack at the thought of losing you and Stella. There was such a gaping hole in his soul when he thought about the prospect of you walking away, it scared him to death. He had never planned on falling for you, had resisted it for a bit, trying to convince himself that it was too quick to be feeling the way he did. Last night though? Last night had showed him he was further gone than he had ever expected.

"Did you mean what you said to Melanie yesterday?" You mumble into his neck after a few moments.

"Every word." Lando says without a moment of hesitation. "But is there a specific part you want me to confirm?"

You chuckle, pulling away so you can look him in the face. "The part where you said we're a package deal? That you love love us both?"

Lando brings his hands up to face your frame and you can't help but lean into him. "Of course I meant it. I'd do anything for either of you. I thought we'd established that, baby."

You drop your gaze from his then, somewhat knocked off center by the intensity of his gaze. "I'm sorry I got spooked. I'm just so used to doing this all on my own, no one ever wants to stay."

"Do you remember what I told you the first night we spent together in Bahrain?"

You blink, a small smile playing on your lips for the first time that morning. "You said a lot that night."

Lando rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. "It was after you had fallen asleep and I got up to get a drink of water. When I came back to bed, you curled right into me and said you thought I'd left you. You asked me to never leave you and and I told you I'd never leave you. I didn't mean it for just that night though."

Your heart thunders in your chest. You didn't remember that at all but the fact that he had said those words to you all those months ago. He'd been as far gone for you back then as you had.

"I love you more than words can say." He whispers and all you can do is nod back, emotion choking out your ability to speak for a few moments.

Lando reaches under your chin after a beat, lifting your face so he can see you. "Nobody said this was going to be easy but if we do this together, it'll be okay. You've got to trust me on this, baby. The team is fully supportive, I swear to you. Zak, Andrea, Oscar. Everyone that matters is on our side. I know you're scared and you want to protect Stella but you can't give up on our happiness because of some stupid people on the internet that don't matter."

Pain shoots through you, bright and quick as a lightning bolt as realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Something becomes crystal clear in that moment and you find yourself nodding.

"You're right. I know you are. I want Stella to see me choose myself instead of sacrificing my happiness for some stupid what ifs." It isn't until Lando says what he does that you're able to finally put into words what you've slowly been coming to realize over the last few hours. You'd been scared to admit it, scared that choosing yourself in this meant you were putting Stella second but when Lando tells you that you can't give up your own happiness to protect her, everything clicks into place.

"I want her to know that she can do hard things and choose her own path and if i listen to Melanie all I show her is that the bullies win."

"That's my girl." Lando praises, pulling you into another soul shattering kiss. "I love you." He whispers against your lips.

"Lan..." You pull away suddenly, eyes going wide. "The reason I was outside your driver's room yesterday was because Stella demanded to talk to you before bed and then..." You drop the sentence, the memory of yesterday slicing through you once again. "Do we have time to call her now? She was so mad at me last night when I said you were too busy to talk."

"Don't you ever tell my Stelly Belly I'm too busy to talk to her again." He teases before grabbing his phone. "Is she with Sarah today? They had a half day, didn't they. She was all about going to the cinema with Sarah today last time I talked to her."

The smile that settles on your face is nothing short of brilliant. For the first time in nearly 24 hours, you finally feel settled, like everything had righted itself after being so very briefly run off course. "Lets see if she can talk now before the get to the show."

landonorris posted

789,039 likes liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, BFFSarah, and others landonorris did someone say 'hard launch'? user029 oh she's PRETTY PRETTY yourusername <3 >>>user029 ugh, profile's private but SHE HAS A CHILD??? >>>user2992 if this means we're going to get dad lando content the same yaer we get dad max content, the internet may not survive BFFSarah can i like this more than once!?! <3 user0299 OMG WAIT I saw her in the background of tv shots this weekend except she was in a McLaren team kit. LANDO NOT DATING AN INFLUENCER??? >>>user3422 didn't know he had it in him >>>user000 god, i am such a sucker for a workplace romance trope

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[harrysfolklore]

grapes - hs

summary: harry won’t let his girlfriend break her new years tradition

folkie radio: i couldn’t let the year end without posting one last harry fic! i really hope 2025 brings us so much content (including hs4!!) happy new year 💘

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The party was in full swing at Jeff and Glenne's house, the air buzzing with anticipation as midnight drew closer. Music thumped through the speakers, and everywhere you looked, people were laughing, dancing, and celebrating the final moments of the year. You were nestled against Harry's side on one of the plush sofas, his arm draped casually around your shoulders.

"You okay, love?" Harry asked, noticing you checking your phone for the time again. "You seem a bit distracted."

You gave him a small smile, fiddling with the sequins on your dress. "Yeah, I just... it's silly, really."

"Tell me," he encouraged, turning to face you properly. His green eyes were soft and curious in the dim party lighting.

"Well, it's this tradition I have. Every New Year's at midnight, I eat twelve grapes - one for each chime of midnight. It's supposed to bring good luck for each month of the new year. My grandma started it when I was little, and I've done it every year since."

Understanding dawned on Harry's face. "And we haven't got any grapes here."

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. "Like I said, it's silly. It's just... it would be the first year I haven't done it.”

Harry glanced at his watch - 11:40 PM - then pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "Give me fifteen minutes."

Before you could ask what he was planning, he was up and weaving through the crowd. You watched him stop to say something to Jeff, who nodded and pointed toward the kitchen.

Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. People were starting to gather around the TV for the countdown, champagne flutes in hand. You tried not to feel too disappointed, telling yourself it was just a tradition, just some grapes.

At 11:57, you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. Harry was slightly out of breath, his curls messier than before, but he was grinning triumphantly. In his hand was a small bowl filled with exactly twelve grapes.

"Harry," you gasped, "how did you-"

"Let's just say I now owe Jeff's neighbor a very expensive bottle of wine," he chuckled, settling back beside you. "Apparently, she's the only person in Beverly Hills who keeps fresh fruit in the house on New Year's Eve."

You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you took the bowl from him. "You went door-to-door looking for grapes?"

"Course I did," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Couldn't let you break your tradition, could I?"

The countdown started, people shouting in unison. "TEN! NINE!"

You quickly counted the grapes - exactly twelve.

"EIGHT! SEVEN!"

Harry pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

You readied your first grape, heart full of love for the man beside you.

"THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As cheers erupted around you, you started eating the grapes, one by one, just as you had every year since childhood. Harry watched you with amused affection, waiting patiently for you to finish before pulling you in for your New Year's kiss.

"Happy New Year, love," he murmured against your lips.

"Happy New Year," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you for this. For understanding how much it meant to me."

He smiled, that soft, private smile that was reserved just for you. "Your traditions are important to me because they're important to you. Even if it means running around the neighborhood at midnight looking for grapes."

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. "I think this might be my favorite New Year's tradition yet."

"What, the grapes or the kiss?"

"Both," you decided. "Definitely both."

[wizlizbelle3]

My challenge to induce pure consciousness before 2025

Hello everyone,

So I know that in my earlier posts I said that I am not really in favor of challenges but I see a lot of people struggling and overcomplicating the void and I've decided to make a challenge that will get you into the void state in less than 3 days if you really stick to it, and if you don't stick to it consistently, you'll still be able to get into the void before December 25th (which is like 26 days away from now). I edited the title to say new year’s bc people are already losing hope lol

The challenge is to use SATs to enter the void state and I'll explain how. But first, y'all need to understand what the void is exactly.

SO when you have to eat your breakfast, do you google or search youtube videos on how to eat? Or if you want to fall asleep, do you google how to fall asleep? We actually don't know what causes us to fall asleep if you think about it. So when we set the intention, our subconscious follows through because we've always been doing it and no one told us that sleeping is not real. So the void state is just another state of consciousness that doesn't need to be forced and it cannot be forced. You just set the intention. However, people have been programmed to believe that things like the void are too good to be true (SMFH).

SOOOOO here's the challenge:

STEP ONE is to do ANY kind of yoga, workout, or stretch before bed. You can do breathing sitting up or simply a meditation to calm your mind. Make sure to not use electronics before bed for at least an hour.

STEP TWO is to get into a comfortable position. It doesn't matter which position, just one that you know you can stay in for as long as necessary.

STEP THREE is to choose what you want to do in SATs. To induce the void, you choose to induce the void. You can say it to yourself or just relax and know what you want.

STEP FOUR is to begin to relax your body. You can do PMR where you tense then release each part of your body, then do breathing or anything until you have become completely relaxed.

STEP FIVE is to either visualize waking up with your desired face or whatever thing you want to get from the void and telling someone that you induced the void. Anything that indicates that you woke up in the void. OR you use the lullaby method where you pick one affirmation (I am in the void aware or I have induced pure consciousness). OR you can do both.

STEP SIX is to make sure you go to sleep with this affirmation or visualization in your mind. This is probably the most important part and what makes this method successful.

Please go watch "Neville Goddard Ladder lecture" in order to get how this works. BUT IT D O E S. Stop being so needy and do the challenge. It's literally not hard and there's no "failure". It's just a state.

Oh, and I made a playlist that I'll link down below for you to listen to throughout the day. It's not necessary but it helped me be happy and get rid of the "omg nothing wowks fow meeeeeee :(((" mentality. I will also link a good, trustworthy SATs subliminal that i used YEARS ago (like two years) and then didn't use again because I became obsessed with trying new methods.

If you have any questions, you can message me BUT I am enjoying my life rn and chilling so I won't respond immediately. Plus, everything you need to know is already on @b4ddprincess 's page and also my earlier posts address tons of things. Again, stop being needy.

[shinysobi]

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst, light smut

word count: 11k~ish (NOW YOU SEE WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG)

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply,

a/n: this is the final chapter, a doozy because i dragged my feet instead of completing it. but i wanted to finish this for the new years, and so, here we are, a belated merry christmas present from me to you, and hopefully i can write more in 2025 a/n 2: comments and reblogs are always much appreciated, and i'd like to know your thoughts about this story heheheh

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter 4

Its funny, how easy it is, to slip into habits. Old habits, ones that have seeped into your routine over time. I wake up, check my phone for emails. I make coffee, check my phone for emails. I get dressed for work, check my phone for emails. On weekends, I do chores leftover from the week, read books I have to write reviews of.

I would most certainly not be taking a nap in the middle of a Saturday with Lee Jihoon. I would not be lying down in my bed, lying next to, nay, cuddled up with, Lee Jihoon. If anyone had told me, even a few hours ago, that I would be snuggled up with Lee Jihoon, my best friend since university. Wait. Can we even call ourselves friends?

“Jihoon.” I whisper, elbowing him in the ribs. “Jihoon.”

“Mm, five more minutes,” he mutters, “I’ll get up then.”

“Hey, wasn’t your meeting with the producers this afternoon?” I ask, “you’ll be getting in a world of trouble because you didn’t show up.”

“I won’t be getting in any trouble.” Jihoon replies, voice thick with sleep, “I’m the terrible child of the company. They’ll keep me around as long as I make good songs for them, they’ll change meeting times when I ask them to. They’ll do anything as long as I’m happy.”

“You’re taking advantage of your position,” I smile, shifting closer to him, “anyone would think you have a horrible work ethic.”

“It’s all okay when it’s regarding my—wait, what are we?” Jihoon sits up in the bed, still half-dressed, “are we still friends?”

“Depends. Do you kiss your friends?” I sit up, facing him, “then we’re friends. Otherwise, we’re not.”

Jihoon pulls a face, “I just imagined kissing one of the boys. Ew, no, never.”

“Then I suppose we aren’t friends anymore.” I smile, leaning in, “we’re something else, then.”

“Can I call you my girlfriend yet, or no?”

I laugh. From this angle, his face is soft, so soft it feels as though he’ll evaporate if I try to touch him, “depends. Do you kiss your girlfriends?”

Jihoon grins, pressing his lips to mine, “all the time.”

“M-hmm,” I smile, touching his cheeks, soft and pliable underneath my fingers, “Woozi, aren’t you being a little presumptuous? All the time? What do you mean all the time?”

He pulls a face, “I swear to god, if you start some bullshit again, I’m going to break up with you.”

“And we’ve been together for what, three hours? That has got to be a new record, even for you, Jihoon.” I say, laughing as Jihoon tackles me to the pillows, “not to mention you’ve been pining over me for the past what—six, years, since you went for your military service. Imagine liking someone for that long, and not telling anyone about it.”

“At least I had the decency to keep it to myself like a normal adult,” Jihoon replies, “you on the other hand, you were a wreck after a week. Imagine being that down bad over a man. You should be repulsed by yourself. What would Andrea Dworkin say?”

“And that’s it, we’ve had a good run, bye,” I begin, trying to get out of bed, but Jihoon stops me, “let me go. You said yourself that I should be repulsed because I like you.”

“Three hours and five minutes,” Jihoon replies, “not bad at all, given that two of them were spent sleeping.”

“Really, who the fuck sleeps after getting together with someone? It’s like, violating the first ethics of relationships,” I grumble, “imagine kissing your best friend, who’s now your boyfriend, who then proceeds to take a nap in your bed? Who would do that?”

“Were you disappointed?” Jihoon asks, his expression changing to sly, “were you expecting something else?”

I roll my eyes, struggling to get out of his grip, but unfortunately, all the hours Jihoon has put in the gym has now created a reality where I can no longer get out of his grip, “no, I wasn’t, I was just expecting you to not snore on me after kissing me in my living room.”

His face falls, and he is about to say something, when my phone rings loudly, making me jump, “what the hell? Why is your ringtone so loud?”

“It’s not!” I reply, “I just forgot to switch it back to silent after coming back home today. I had it set on full volume last night. And give that to me.” I swipe to accept the call,  and soon enough, Jeonghan’s voice floats through the speakers.

“How are you two doing?” Jeonghan asks, and I stare at Jihoon, who seems to be equally confused as me.

“Jihoon said he was going to meet you, I figured that you two might have finally gotten your shits together,” he clarifies, “I’m not that old, nor do I have enough sense to stay out of your affairs.”

“Yes, yes, hyung, you’re the nosiest of us all,” Jihoon grumbles from next to me, “yes, we’re doing fine, thank you very much.”

“Great!” I can hear the barely-concealed glee in his voice, “Chan, tell the rest of the guys to pay up. I’m the only one who guessed correctly that they were going to get together by today.”

“Pay up—wait, hyung, you were betting on my love life?” Jihoon screeches, “why the hell would you do that?”

“I’ve seen and heard you pine over her for the past eight years, you nitwit, of course, I’m going to host a betting pool for when you finally get together. Not to mention, you’ve just made me an entirely obscene amount of money, which I’m going to spend happily.”

“Wait, if you knew Jihoon was going to come to see me, why did you take so long to call us?”

“I was being polite.”

“For what?”

“Well, if you two were having sex, I would not like to be calling in the middle of it now, would I?” he giggles even as Jihoon and I both let out twin gasps of surprise, “What? Did you not put years of sexual tension into use?”

“That’s inappropriate, hyung.”

“So, you haven’t.”

“Oppa!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Jeonghan lets out one final demonic cackle (still cannot believe I called him my angel once), “I’ll let you two lovebirds be together. Oh, and Soonyoung told me to tell you, Jihoon, that he’ll take care of the meeting today. You can take a day off once in a while.”

“Thanks, hyung, I’ll go back to sleeping,” Jihoon mutters, handing the phone over to me and immediately burrowing himself in the sheets to get some more sleep.

“I’ll make myself scarce then, shall I?”

“Wait, oppa,” I say, thinking very hard, “you did this on purpose didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I mean the whole situation. You were the one who kept telling me about how long Jihoon has liked me for, and you were the one who I called before Jihoon took the phone away from you and talked to me.” My voice takes on an accusatory note, “Yoon Jeonghan, did you manipulate me and Jihoon into confessing so that you could win a bet?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation.”

“So, you did.” I stand up from the bed, ignoring Jihoon, who’s already snoring softly, “Yoon Jeonghan, you better give us a share of the pool.”

Jeonghan laughs on the other end of the phone, “fine, fine, I will. I’ll take you and Jihoon out for samgyeopsal this week. Cool?”

“Just so you know, while we both will be there, I still don’t appreciate this.”

“Come on, writer,” Jeonghan wheedles, “anyone could see that you were both circling each other for half a decade. It was exhausting to watch, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too!” he hangs up, and I go back to bed, sidling up to Jihoon, who hugs me in his sleep. Its nice, being this way. I can pretend that the world is just the two of us, in my bed, sleeping in the afternoon.

Jihoon doesn’t look lonely anymore. In fact, he looks happy, smiling even in his sleep. When was the last time I saw him like that? A memory floats up to my mind, of another afternoon, spent in Jihoon’s  flat, after we’d all finished giving the final exams. Jihoon had a job lined up with a production company, and I was about to start working with an online fashion magazine. Joshua was in graduate school, and everything was fine. We spent that one afternoon watching trashy soap operas on Netflix, drank too much booze and smoked too many cigarettes, and finally, just before we went to sleep, I could swear I saw a ghost of a smile on Jihoon’s face.

Until a week later, when his enlistment notice came, and I never saw that smile again. But now it is there, and I can reach out and touch him, and I can see his face relax even more under my touch, as if Jihoon had been craving it, even in his denial. I probably have, even after so long. Years of wondering ‘what if’ and now, finally, it’s here.

“Jihoon,” I whisper, “Jihoon.”

“What?” he burrows further into the blankets, “I’m cold now.”

“Jeonghan kind of manipulated us both into getting together.”

“He did?” Jihoon mumbles, “good for him, I now have a girlfriend.”

—

Jihoon wakes up in the middle of the evening, and shakes me awake too, because he’s hungry and I have to cook for him.

“I’m the one who told you about this apartment, so you kind of owe me,” he says, perched on a stool, “and no ramen, please. I’ve been living on that for so long I know all flavours that are there, and the convenience store guy looks at me strangely whenever I go inside.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I mutter, chopping up vegetables to put in a stew, “I don’t have anything in the house, so you’re going to have to be happy with a random stew of things I found lying in the fridge.”

“That’s fine.” He replies, “at least I don’t have to starve.”

“Yes, Mr Woozi, I appreciate the concern, now wash the rice.”

Lunch (dinner? Linner?) is kimchi stew, with old vegetables and things that were almost going bad, but he eats it like it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant meal. Jihoon is not really picky: I’ve seen him eat everything from day-old scraps to a croissant that was growing mould on it (the less said about that the better) but us eating in my kitchen, this feels strangely domestic to me, in a way that’s almost scary.

“Are you scared?” Jihoon asks, spooning up rice into his mouth, “don’t worry, I’m scared too.”

I stare at him, “have you become psychic, by any chance? Do you want to change your profession to shaman?”

“I’d be a shitty shaman either way,” he replies, “the only person I know how to read well is you. You have that look on your face, so I asked.”

“What look?”

“The look that you get when you’re terrified of something, but you also want to do it.”

“I don’t have a look.”

Jihoon stares at me, “You totally do, I know it; it’s the same look you got when you attempted to take that class on Psychoanalysis in second year.”

“I sucked at it.”

“That’s not the point. The point is, you were terrified, but you also wanted to do it, I know that look. You might think you’re fooling people, and you can, but the last person you can fool is me; Joshua, to an extent, but I doubt he’s made a hobby of reading your every expression over a period of eight years.”

I make a face. Jihoon notices, because of course he does, “that’s the face you make when you don’t like what the other person is saying, but you know that they’re right.”

“That’s unfair, Jihoon.”

“Is it? I’ve known you for so long, of course I should know about your expressions.” He smiles, before leaning over to kiss me on the cheek, “that’s the expression you make when your surprised.”

“Then don’t fucking surprise me!” I press a hand to my cheek, “what was the reason for that?”

“Nothing, just making sure I didn’t dream up the last few hours, and that I can really kiss you whenever I feel like it.”

“I have to want it too, you know. Also, when did you get so keen on physical affection? I’ve literally never seen you be this way with anyone before.’

He shrugs, “I wasn’t pining over those people for years, so that’s there, too.”

I don’t know what to say to this, so I just laugh at his words, “Jihoon, aren’t you being a bit hard on them?”

“On who?”

“The women you’ve dated. The people I’ve dated. Like it or not, they are a part of us. They’ve made us into the kind of people we are today.” I take a sip of the soup, “would you have asked me out if we were in university? Or after you came back from the military?”

He pauses to think about it, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of kimchi, “probably not.”

“And even if you did, we would have hated each other, and broken up in a week. So, let’s not talk about the people who have given a part of their lives to us.”

Jihoon nods, “understood. Does this mean you’re going to invite your exes to your wedding?”

I laugh, “not to that extent, no, but I will respect them for their time and affection that they gave to me because for better or for worse, they were a part of who I was, before I fell in love with you.”

“Fell in love?” Jihoon gasps, “are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“As if this was even part of the question. Of course I’m in love with you.” I take a deep breath, standing up to clear out the remnants of dinner, “I don’t know how to say this properly but, I’ve loved you all throughout the time I’ve known you. As a friend, as a lover, as my family here in Seoul. I’ve loved you all the time. At the risk of sounding cringe, there has not been a time when I haven’t been full of love for you. Even if it didn’t seem that way, I’ve loved you for years.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, instead wraps me into a hug, “have you been taking lessons on how to deliver a speech?”

“Why, yes, I have.”

He giggles, which is a rare sound coming from him, “I’ve always loved you too. Even if I didn’t show it, even if I didn’t express it well, I have loved you.”

I kiss him, “sorry for taking all this time to realise my feelings.”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t be sorry for that. The way you are, the way you will be, I’ll always love you.”

—

I text Eunseo in the evening, asking her to meet me for coffee. Joshua and Jihoon are both too busy for brunch, so I have some time to burn. Eunseo texts me back within minutes, eagerly agreeing to meet me. I text her the name of the same café the three of us go to for brunch.

“You look great,” Eunseo says as soon as I walk in, “did something great happen?”

I stare at her. She’s dressed to go out this morning, wearing a light green dress under a heavy brown coat. In comparison, I’m wearing my office pants and a white shirt. We’re dressed miles apart. Saying that I look good is almost an insult.

But Eunseo doesn’t insult anyone, even knowingly, so I take my seat and say, “you’re joking.”

“No, not at all,” she replies, “you’ve got this glow that I cannot really put my finger on. It seems as though something great happened in the past few days.”

“Well, I did begin seeing Jihoon, so,” I shrug, but Eunseo is already clapping her hands in joy, “what? What’s going on?”

“Wait, I have to tell Joshua to come meet us,” she chirps, “I’m not saying anything until he comes back, but I’m so happy for you, you have no idea.”

Joshua, who was looking at suits in the morning, comes to the café within minutes, by which we already have ordered a bunch of things. He comes in looking harried, and the first thing he says, “I thought this was an emergency! You texted me she was dying!”

Eunseo laughs, “that was the only way to get your attention, josh, I’m so sorry.” Her expression shows that she isn’t sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Joshua sits down on the chairs, “you’re not sorry at all, Eunseo.”

They share a sweet moment, and normally, I’d pull a face and call them cringe, but today, I just don’t feel like it. maybe it’s the hormones of being in a relationship, or maybe I’m finally growing soft around the edges, but I think, what would happen if I text Jihoon to come see us right now? He’d probably scowl and refuse, but I can’t help but imagine the two of us in place of Joshua and Eunseo, sharing a nice moment. This is it; I think to myself, this is the moment you realise you’ve gone entirely crazy because of a man.

“Anyway,” I say loudly, interrupting the two of them, “Eunseo called you here because I have an announcement.”

Joshua stares at the two of us, “is she dying?”

“No! What the fuck, Joshua, I’m not dying!” I say, irritated by this line of conversation, “as I was telling Eunseo, I’m not dying, I just began seeing Jihoon.”

“But you can see him all the time,” Joshua says, still clueless as ever.

“Romantically. Joshua, romantically. We’re dating.” I say, rolling my eyes.

Joshua stares at me, speechless for a whole ten seconds, before he starts laughing, “finally. Cannot believe I had to endure all those years of Jihoon pining over you and you dancing around him because you wanted to avoid your own feelings.” He turns to Eunseo, who looks equal parts disgusted and horrified, “they are probably two of the most obvious people in existence.”

I narrow my eyes, “you both knew about this? And no one told me?”

To her credit, Eunseo looks apologetic, “I just didn’t want to burden you with the knowledge that we all were aware of the dynamics between you and Jihoon; you seemed like you were still figuring it out, and Jihoon didn’t seem like he wanted anyone else to know. But he’s right, you know. You two were seriously the most obvious people in the world.”

I want the earth to split up and swallow me whole, right at this moment. What do you mean we were the most obvious people in the whole world? “What do you mean we were the most obvious people in the whole world?” I wasn’t even aware that Jihoon had feelings for me until a few months ago! “I wasn’t even aware of my own feelings until very recently.”

Before Eunseo can reply to my statement, her phone rings, and she makes a face before picking it up, saying, “it’s the realtor. He is supposed to meet us later in the week.”

Joshua pulls an identical face, and not for the first time since they started dating, I wonder why it is that all couples start to look alike after a few years of being together. However, for the first time, I also wonder how Jihoon and I would look like after a few years together. Would we be annoying, like Joshua and Eunseo? Or would we be one of those couples who always fought and broke up and patched up, all within the span of a week, like those people in university? But that would mean I’d have to spend enough time with Jihoon, becoming one of those couples.

“You’re putting on your thinking face,” Joshua says, bringing me out of my reverie, “it’s the expression you make whenever you’re imagining something.”

“I don’t do that,” I defend reflexively, but I know he’s true, simply because this is not the first time someone has told me about my ‘thinking face’. It is, however, the first time that someone has called me out when I was thinking about Jihoon. “What were you saying?”

“Eunseo just left to take the call from the realtor,” Joshua smiles, “I must say, I saw this coming from a mile away.”

I scowl, “what do you mean you saw this coming from a mile away? I’m not someone who’s that predictable, am I?”

“Well, it is true. You are kind of predictable,” Joshua shrugs, “you’ve been wearing the same clothes since university, you eat the same ten dishes all the time, and you even like the same kind of side dishes. You’re very predictable.”

I sigh, “yes, fine, I’m predictable. Still doesn’t mean you saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Have you seen the way you and Jihoon behave around each other? No matter how much you say that you can’t stand the sight of the other person, Jihoon cares about you the most. He drops everything at a moment’s notice to come to your aid. You do the same thing too, it’s just that you aren’t as forthcoming about it as him.”

“Was that why you were behaving weirdly on that night?”

“What night?” Joshua seems to have entirely forgotten that one Sunday, except it is ingrained into my mind like its just yesterday, “I don’t remember anything.”

“The night that you proposed to Eunseo,” I say, trying my best to not sound frustrated, “when Jihoon told you he was helping me hook up with people, you reacted really strangely.”

“Oh, yes, I did,” Joshua looks sheepish, “I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, but it was very confusing for me.”

“Confusing?”

“Imagine one of your closest friends, who has been pining over another one of your closest friends, telling you that he is helping the girl he has had a crush on for the past six years, in getting her a boyfriend. How would you feel about that?”

“Um, well,” I pause on it, “I’d think my friend was stupid.”

“That’s it!” Joshua yells, “see how it was confusing for me? all throughout university I thought Jihoon had a crush on you, but all of a sudden, after years as your friend,  he’s trying to set you up with other men? I thought he was being an idiot.”

“Well, I told him he shouldn’t be doing that,” I grumble, “he didn’t even listen to me and went and blabbed to you about how he was going to set me up with one of the boys.”

“You were the one who made that comment about Mingyu,” Joshua accuses, “I’d better not see you make any excuses for yourself. And what does ‘platonically motorboat’  even mean?”

“It means you would like to motorboat someone, but platonically, not romantically,” Eunseo says, walking into the café, “babe, the realtor wants to see us today, if we can.”

“Really? He wants to meet us today? After changing the date so many times?” Joshua groans, “never mind. We should be glad he’s meeting us poor people, who just want to buy a newlywed home.”

“You should be glad he’s meeting you at all,” I say, gesturing for the check, “if I ever saw a credit score as bad as yours’, I’d refuse to give you any credit, let alone show you houses.”

Both of them pull identical scowls, “yes, yes, showing off your excellent credit, go on,” Joshua says, “I just know you bragged all about it to Jihoon already.”

“You’re not wrong,” I reply, grinning, “but Jihoon said I should brag to others too, so I’m bragging to you.”

“Never mind her babe,” Eunseo puts her hands over Joshua’s ears, “she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

The three of us walk out into the early winter morning, shivering in the cold. Joshua and Eunseo promptly set off in a taxi to go meet their realtor, while I make my way to my apartment, suppressing my urge to text Jihoon about his work. I’ve been endlessly curious about his process ever since university, but the only times he’s allowed me into the studio I’ve either fallen asleep within ten minutes of being there, or we had conversations about things that were not related to his music production. On the other hand, if I text him right now, badgering him about his work, I will seem like either a. an insane, clingy girlfriend, or b. a stupid, clingy girlfriend. In both cases, Jihoon is going to get sick of me so fast, he’s going to break a record with how fast he’s going to dump me.

In university, I was part of the journalism club, and on the first group outing, one of the seniors, drunk off of one too many soju cocktails, had taken the first-years aside and talked about how one should behave when in a relationship. “Now listen,” she had said, “never, I repeat, never, let him know that you’re into him, especially in the first few months of dating. The less he knows about your real feelings, the better.”

“But sunbae,” one of my freshman year-mates had raised her hand, “what happens if your boyfriend gets to know how much you like him in the first few months of the relationship?”

The senior had sighed, before saying, “you’ve got to understand why men like women. They don’t like the person we actually are; they like the chase. They like the person we pretend to be when we start dating them for the first time. Therefore, unless you’re absolutely sure that this is a man you want to keep around for a long time, you must not let your real self show around him.”

We had all nodded, as if we understood what she was talking about, and I had spent the last few years   of my life earnestly following this rule. Never allowing my real self to be shown around the people I have dated. But now I’m dating Jihoon, who has been around for all of the embarrassing chapters of my life. How do I navigate this new change in dynamic?

My phone pings, and I look down, expecting a text from Joshua or Eunseo, talking about their wedding, but instead of the two of them, its Jihoon.

hoon: did you tell joshuji?

hoon: he just texted me btw

hoon: he also says that we have both been huge idiots

I pause in the middle of the road in my surprise, and narrowly miss hitting a pedestrian. I always knew Joshua was a snitch, but telling Jihoon not even ten minutes after I’ve left? That’s just low.

big dick (canon): cannot believe Joshua snitched

big dick (canon): actually no, I do believe it

big dick (canon): he and Eunseo ditched me after brunch so I’m now being forced to go back to my home

big dick (canon): my home that I love and adore

big dick (canon): but still, I don’t really want to hang out in my apartment all by myself

big dick (canon): it’s so boring

big dick (canon): I’m going to kms

hoon: you know, one of the many, many perks of having me as your boyfriend is

hoon: that you can come hang out in the studio with me all the time

hoon: and I won’t even get angry with you, unlike how I get with others

hoon: because I love you, and this is a perk I provide to my loved ones ONLY

big dick (canon): you have canonically told all twelve of your friends to fuck off from the studio, at least once in your lifetime

big dick (canon): and I’m not even including all the times you have told me no for an interview

big dick (canon): if I count all those times, its going to go to a hundred, EASILY

big dick (canon): and you’re telling me to come hang out with you

big dick (canon): this is HIGHLY sus

hoon: just come to the studio my god you’re so dramatic

hoon: don’t take this as a sign to stop being dramatic, I actually like it when you do that

hoon: if you tell this to anyone else, I’m going to deny it and kill you

big dick (canon): you won’t do that you like me too much

big dick (canon): anyway, should I bring something for you to eat

hoon: have I ever told you that I love u

big dick (canon): yes, u have

big dick (canon): multiple times, in fact

hoon: ugh so dramatic

big dick (canon): I won’t get you anything, then

hoon: get me some fried chicken

big dick (canon): I’m having it delivered to your studio. I’m coming in ten

By the time I enter Jihoon’s studio, the chicken has been delivered, and I open the door to see Jihoon munching on a drumstick. Unlike other days, the studio is messy, and he looks like he’s been through hell. Which, if you take Jihoon’s word for it, is not much, just three meetings.

“Shouldn’t you leave one drumstick for me?” I ask, shrugging my winter coat off, “fuck, its cold as hell outside.”

“Needed brain food,” Jihoon replies through a mouthful of chicken, “had a meeting in the morning, the sound engineers needed some changes to be done to Hoshi’s title track.”

“Sounds like shit,” I mutter, picking up a piece, “you’ve been working on that since the morning?”

“Not just that, but the girl group song too,” he replies, “they liked the first song so much that they want another song from me. I’ve been looking through the scratch files on my computer to find out what songs I can give to them that aren’t emo ballads I made after one too many drinks.”

“You know, some of us just vomit after getting wasted. Are you trying to brag to me that you become more creative when drunk?”

“I’m not bragging, some of these are actually atrocious,” he says, pointing to the icons on the screen, “this one is just called ‘I’m never going to be alive’. What does that mean? Why was I thinking about this at three in the morning?”

“Entertaining suicidal thoughts at three in the morning is something we’ve all done, actually.”

“This is just called ‘Love hurts’, and this one, I named it ‘Park PD is a bitch’.”

“I’ll go tell him you said that.” I laugh when Jihoon’s face darkens, “okay, okay, fine, I won’t, but why do you hate him so much?”

“I don’t hate him at all. he was probably getting on my nerves at that moment, and instead of talking it out like real adults, I chose to instead make a song draft calling him a bitch.”

I look closely at the computer screen, “Wait, Jihoon. All of these songs are love songs. To an extent. How many love songs have you written over the years?”

He takes a minute to answer that, “since university, I’ve either created existential songs or love songs, so, I’d say, about a hundred? Give or take, but I won’t put a number on it, since I’m not really sure.”

“You wrote about a hundred love songs?”

“Yes, I did, and they’re all in here,” Jihoon pats the external hard drive hooked up to the computer, “this holds pretty much all of my work.”

“Makes sense as to why you would guard it with your life.” I reply.

I go to sit back down, putting my feet up on the sofa, and Jihoon gives me a dirty look. I just smile in reply. He’s always a stickler for these kind of rules, but it’s funny to see him be so rattled. I’m not going to lie and say that seeing him be irritated is funny, because it is. An angry Jihoon is a cute Jihoon, I’ve learnt that back in university. Especially when he pouts like that.

“You still wear minion socks?” Jihoon says, stuffing his mouth with chicken, “I gave you that as a gag gift last year, you should have thrown them out as soon as you got them.”

“I like the socks. They’re comfortable.” I reply, shrugging, “who gave you the idea to give me socks as a gag gift?”

“Soonyoung. He thought it would be funny to give you cartoon socks.”

“Joke’s on him, I like having my feet warm.”

After Jihoon and I finish the chicken and clean up in record time, he goes back to his workstation, and I’m free to observe him as much as I want to. Seeing Jihoon in his element is always an experience. Even in university, I used to observe him when he worked. He has a singular focus on whatever he does, from eating to producing music. I’m also not going to lie to myself and say that he isn’t attractive when he works, because somehow his attractiveness gets turned up a hundred notches when he’s working. Or maybe, I like him too much and I find everything about him attractive. His eyes are laser-focused on his work, and the lines of his neck, disappearing into his shirt, is at odds with the Jihoon in my bed yesterday, peacefully sleeping as he held me for warmth. Before last night, I never knew that Lee Jihoon was someone who got cold even underneath a comforter, and liked holding someone else for warmth.

“You’re staring,” Jihoon says, breaking my line of thought, “I’ve been talking to you for the past ten seconds and you’ve been staring into space.”

“I was just looking at my handsome boyfriend as he works. Is that not allowed?”

“Stop saying that.” He mutters, going back to his work, but I can see him turning red. Jackpot.

“Jihoon.”

“Hm?”

“Are you blushing right now?”

He turns around to give me an impressive glare, “no, I’m not.”

“The back of your neck is red.” I grin, “were you getting shy?”

“No, I wasn’t.” he lies, his ears going red. At this rate, he might burst into fumes.

“Your ears say otherwise, Jihoon,” I stand up, walking over to his chair, “your ears and your neck is red. You’re getting shy, aren’t you?”

“What! No, I’m not—” he pauses for a moment, turning away from me, before grabbing me by the waist, “stop teasing.”

“I won’t,” I giggle, taking the opportunity to climb into his lap, “see! You’re going all red.”

His face is still turned away from me, but I can see the blush on his cheeks, “are you going to continue to lie to me, Jihoon?”

He pauses, before huffing, “you’re gonna regret teasing me, you know.”

“Pretty sure I won’t—aah!”

Unfortunately, my plan had but one singular flaw in it. I had underestimated how much he worked out on a weekly basis. Jihoon just glares at me, before picking me up and walks over to the sofa, my legs dangling around his waist. Seriously, how much does this guy work out?

“Really? I was working, and in the zone, and you had to tease me like that?” he grumbles, before unceremoniously dumping me on the sofa, “I shouldn’t have invited you over. Let me go back to work.”

“But you did,” I grin, my hands around his neck, “you invited me over. Lured me in, I’ should say. You lured me in, and now you should pay the price.”

Jihoon groans, before smiling, “is this how it’s going to be all the time?”

“Mm, I’m afraid so.”

Lying down on the sofa, I can see the lights on the ceiling, bright white, ones that Jihoon claimed helped him with his workflow. I hated them in the beginning, claimed that they hurt my eyes, but over time, I grew used to them, to the point where I can’t imagine there being anything else. Bright white lights. A comfortable sofa. Jihoon’s face obscuring my vision, so close that I can make out every individual eyelash. His mouth, full and open, insistent against mine. Jihoon kisses like he wants to do nothing else, I’ve realised. As though this was what he wanted to do all along. Anything is okay. I’m not afraid of falling, if it’s Jihoon. which is why  I find myself doing strange things. Like allowing him to touch me, even if it’s in the middle of day, in a room where anyone might come in; like allowing him to undress me, even if I’m underneath harsh white lights. Because its him, because its Jihoon. I can touch him in return, slip my hands underneath the shirt he’s wearing, because I can press my mouth just as insistently against him as him.

“So, this is how it’s going to be, is it?” he says, unbuttoning my shirt, “wait. You’re not wearing a bra?”

I roll my eyes. Of all the things he can talk about, this is what he chooses to focus on? “No, Jihoon, its winter. I’m wearing three layers over this. Of course I don’t want to wear a bra. It’s too much work.”

“I wish it was winter forever,” he replies, continuing to unbutton my shirt, “good god, if this is the outcome, I wish it was winter all throughout the year.”

“The economy is gonna hate you.” I mumble against his mouth, “imagine a whole year of winter. The economy is gonna go haywire. And all because you’re horny.”

“It’s a proof of how much I’m attracted to you, that I’m still working on  your shirt after you just started talking about the economy,” Jihoon finally manages to slip off the shirt I’m wearing, “total buzzkill.”

I scowl, yanking his shirt over his head in one go, “sorry I’m such a buzzkill, then.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Jihoon kisses my cheek, “you’re so beautiful. Have I told you that?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Remind me to tell you this every day, then.” His hands are soft on my hair, stroking, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.”

“Even compared to Jeonghan?”

“Even compared to Jeonghan.” He repeats, “why do you have to bring him up now?”

“Just like that.” I smile, kissing him softly, “so, you like this?’

“Is this how it’s going to be now? For the foreseeable future?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Thank god,” Jihoon murmurs, his hands on the button closure of my trousers, “I can’t wait for the future, then.”

—

Being in this industry means you have to meet with a lot of people. When I say a lot of people, I do mean a lot of people. I’ve managed to keep my connections alive, but it has not been easy getting to this place. Not the least for someone like me, who had no one in the industry to rely on. In the beginning, when I was working at the fashion magazine, everywhere I went I would be marked as an outsider, and it was surprising how easily doors could get closed. I’ve always been resentful of those times, but now, now it feels like a moment in time that never called its name out for me, and I cannot bring myself to care.

These are the thoughts that I usually have in the mornings. But now, things have changed.

For one, Jihoon is sleeping next to me, his hands holding me close. Its strange, looking at him like this, peaceful instead of a permanent frown etched into his brow, a small smile on his face instead of the scowl that seems to have carved out its own position on his face.

Nowadays, I wake up before Jihoon does, and on most days, I spend some time looking at his face. He was always beautiful, but now, now he looks ethereal. It takes all my self-control to not run from this, because how can someone like me be happy? What right do I have to happiness?

“You’re thinking too much again,” Jihoon says, shaking my train of thought loose, “I can practically hear your gears turning.”

“Morning,” I reply, hoping it sounds smooth and easy and not like I’ve been consumed with depressing thoughts.

Jihoon hums, pulling me in closer, “you always think too much. Its time you stopped thinking so fast.”

“Hm? Do you have a way of doing that?”

That gets his attention, and he opens his eyes. Still sleepy, but fully awake. “You want me to do something about your overthinking?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, I have a thought on how you can change that.”

“And what is that?”

He smiles, half-awake, and kisses me, and my mouth eagerly opens up to let his tongue swipe in, mapping the inside of my mouth with as much ease as he does when composing music. its almost embarrassing how eagerly my body responds to his touch, my hands finding their way inside Jihoon’s shirt without missing a beat, bringing him closer to me as if it’s a dance we have practiced over a long time. It’s a good thing that Jihoon is just as eager as me, pressing himself against me roughly, hard from the barest of touches. If he wasn’t wearing his sweatpants, he would realise just how wet I was from his touches alone, how he managed to reduce me to a wet, moaning mess with only a ghost of his touch and nothing more.

“Mm, just so you know, you’re kind of fulfilling a dream of mine.”

“Which is?”

“Having my way with you in the morning.” Jihoon grins, sitting up to pull his shirt off over his head, and my eyes widen as large purple blotches come into view. God, what did I do—those look like the work of a feral animal, not a mostly sane woman in her twenties. He, on the other hand, looks composed, dragging my shirt up and adding it to the pile on the floor. Almost immediately, his mouth is back on mine, his large hands manhandling my breasts. He’s just as affected as I am, moaning into my mouth as his fingers pinch and twist my nipples, the two of us barely managing to not devolve into a moaning, screaming, mess.

“Have I told you,” he yawns, coming up for breath, “your tits are incredible.”

I scoff, “yes, yes you have, Jihoon, multiple times. I get it, you like them.”

“Like them?” Jihoon grins, shoving two fingers into my mouth before putting his on  my nipple and sucking me hard enough to cry, “babe, I love them, they are perfect.”

Fuck. Jihoon’s obsession with my breasts means that he spent half an hour getting me off last night with his mouth and fingers alone, and I’m oversensitive to the point where his current ministrations are toeing the line between pain and pleasure. His fingers are in my mouth, long and deft, and I can remember where they had been the previous night.

“You gave me enough hickeys to last a lifetime, baby,” Jihoon mutters, still sucking roughly on my breasts, “it’s only fair I get to return the favour.”

Before I can even process what he means, he bites down on my nipple, hard enough that my back arches from the mix of pain and pleasure, and he can feel exactly how wet I already am. At this rate, he doesn’t even need to prepare me to fuck me, he can slide into me with ease, without even taking off his pants.

Jihoon is tired, sleepy, and so am I, the initial rush of waking up next to him fading away quickly as the early morning catches up to the both of us. There’s nothing rushed about the way he’s pushing in and out of me right now; it’s a slow embrace, something that I can hold on to for the rest of my day. Jihoon’s back is wide enough that I can’t really wrap my arms around him, and his mouth is slow against mine, insistent but not really pushing. It’s all Jihoon, and my brain is slowly going into overdrive because of how close he is.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Jihoon asks, after we’re both finished, lying in a haze of our own happiness, oblivious to the world around us, “if I haven’t, consider it an oversight I wish to rectify. As much time as it takes.”

“Are you—proposing to me right now?” I ask.

“Well, it’s not really a proposal yet, but I am going to. And it’s going to be with flowers and a grand gesture that you really can’t turn down.”

“Never took you for a romanticist, Lee Jihoon.”

“Well, that’s the beauty of dating me.”

—

Mr Hong is an impressive writer, which is perhaps why I have always been a little jealous of him and his work. It’s also not at all strange as to why he only agrees to interviews with me, given his prickly demeanour, which has not really improved in the years that I have managed to work with him.

But even with all my misgivings, work is work, and I make my way to the office to pick up my files for the interview, and Seungkwan offers me a warm latte, insisting that I should carry it into the interview. The drink is still warm in my hands, and I stare at him. he just shrugs, “what, you should take it to him, it’ll look nice if we bring him something to drink in an interview.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, trying my best not to laugh, “have you read all of Mr Hong’s interviews with me?”

“Yes, I have, why?”

“Then you should also know that he only drinks tea from a specific tea garden in India, right?”

Seungkwan stares back. “He’s that much of a tea snob?”

“He earns ten billion per year in book sales, he can afford to be a tea snob. He imports the tea himself. He doesn’t drink coffee, and he would also hate it if I offered him a drink. It makes him feel like he’s not being a good host to me.”

“She’s like a criminal profiler when it comes to him,” the Editor hands Seungkwan a file, “managed to get all this information from the one single television segment filmed at his house.”

“Kind of forced to, since there was no prior information on him,” I mutter, but Seungkwan’s eyes widen, and he grabs my hands, eyes shining, “what the hell are you doing? You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

“You’re so cool, sunbae,” Seungkwan says, almost giggling from his excitement, “can’t believe you exist.”

“Seems like her boyfriend cannot believe she exists either,” The Assistant Editor sets down a cup of coffee at my desk, “cute guy. Handed me the coffee and said I should give it to the Associate Editor.”

“Jihoon said that?” I ask, picking up the warm cup. It’s an iced café mocha, sugary enough for Seungkwan to cringe when he takes a taste of it. “Jihoon doesn’t really refer to me by my title.”

“He always does with us, though,” Seungkwan says, “in fact, he’s been quite besotted with you since your university days.”

“University? It took them that long?” Haewon tuts, “really, sunbae, you should have just gotten together by now.”

“He should be doing that more, if you ask me,” the Assistant Editor smiles, “how does it feel to be the author of one of the most popular columns in the newspaper? There are a couple thousand hits on it every day, and that’s me being conservative with the estimate.”

“They love that column,” the Editor pipes up, “we sure are a depressed country.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve just been giving a voice to the most depraved of our society,” I mutter, slinging my bag over my shoulder in what feels like a fourth time this morning, “Seungkwan, are you coming along?”

“Yes!”

Writer Hong’s house is in the same neighbourhood as Jeonghan’s, but he has been living in it since the 90’s and to my knowledge, there has not been a violent murder to reduce the price of the house. Not that he would complain about it, given his obsession with true crime and the lurid crime novels he had written in the 80’s under a pseudonym that I had dug out for him to agree for an interview; because while the television segment did help, it was nothing compared to the immovable force of Writer Hong’s refusal to be in the spotlight. Which is why I had to yell out one of the names of his books (written in the 80’s) before he could disconnect the call. It was the first month I had been working at the news desk, and I was different. Hungrier. For recognition, or for someone to tell me that leaving my comparatively cushy, but dead-end job at a fashion magazine to pursue a career in journalism (good journalism), but journalism that does not pay the bills, was a bad idea. It was my first scoop, and I still remember being congratulated around the office like I had conquered a country. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, something a young writer had accomplished against the better judgement of all the adults involved.

But then Writer Hong had gone and taken a shine to me. I like the way you conduct interviews, he had said, very short. Not like those other blithering idiots who only go on and on about how great my work is.

Which brings me and Seungkwan to this morning, standing outside his mansion—it’s a mansion, a house the two of us can only dream of buying one day—in the cold winter air, Seungkwan nervously clutching the file he’s kept holding on to ever since we left the office building.

I ring the doorbell, and Seungkwan whimpers. Whimpers. I give him a sharp look, and he manages to compose himself just in time for Writer Hong to open the door, grumpy and ruffled, but he opens the door and lets us in, and soon enough, we are sitting in the middle of a tastefully done room, waiting for him to serve us with expensive Darjeeling tea. Seungkwan’s foot vibrates at an almost supersonic speed.

“So,” he says without much of a preamble, entering the room holding a teakwood tray, “I should call you Writer now, instead of Associate Editor.”

Its difficult to stop the blush that spreads across my cheeks, and even Seungkwan lightens up at that statement. Writer Hong had always been someone who valued propriety and how to address someone properly above all else, a relic of the old age, even if he had hated it in his youth.

“I’m still Associate Editor to you, sir,” I reply, holding the porcelain teacup carefully, “the writing is just a column.”

“And one of the better columns I’ve read in the last few years,” he grumbles, “my wife made me read it, you know. And I thought it was nice. Better than what that hack Kim Hong-Sik has been getting up to in these past few days.”

“Did not think a column on unachieved dreams would be exciting to you, sir,” I say, with a small smile, and he guffaws.

“You should start writing properly, then,” he says, “if you think your column is not deserving  of praise, going against the word of me, arguably the best writer Korea has seen in the past few decades.”

“That’s going a bit overboard, don’t you think, sir?” I say, and Seungkwan gasps, but Writer Hong just laughs ad laughs, “I mean, Han Kang exists.”

“Best Male author, then.”

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, and he even warms up to Seungkwan considerably, although he calls his way of peeling oranges ‘disgraceful to the flavour of an orange’. Its good, and it makes me feel accomplished, at noon, and before we leave, he even relents to take a picture with me, amidst his impressive collection of Korean art.  

“That went very well,” Seungkwan says, as we flag down a taxi, “didn’t know he could be like that. He’s usually so—reserved. And grumpy. In all the award shows.”

“He’s big on privacy, but fame really got to that.”

“Privacy?”

“There was once a story about his daughter, who passed away before she turned a year old. He and his wife hated that article so much he stopped giving interviews.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I say, closing my eyes, and Seungkwan falls silent. He was probably too young to have read that article—hell, I was too young to have read that article, but its easy, to wield this destructive power if you have it, especially without any regard for how the other party might feel about it; most people in my line of work get drunk on it, ruining lives just for the sake of ruining them.

We pick up lunch at a corner store, and walk into the office building in silence. Seungkwan has been looking up old articles, and he’s upset, clearly, given how his mouth settles into a frown, one that doesn’t go away even after Haewon presents us with doughnuts from the cafeteria, a present, she says, from the Editor-in-Chief.

“They’re waiting for you in the Meeting room,” she tells me, and I frown, because why the hell would they be there?

“Ah, there’s the Associate Editor!” the Editor booms, his head poking out of the meeting room door, “come have a chat with us.”

Its normal, jovial even, but I approach the room cautiously, only to be greeted with wide smiles from the two men.

“There’s a book deal for you.” The Editor-in-Chief,  a man of blessedly few words, says, as soon as I enter, “they like the column, and they want to publish it.”

“Of course, the legal team is going to establish your fees and how much of it should be going to the company—” they drone on, but all the words and thoughts have flow out of my head because holy shit I have a book deal now. Writer Hong’s words from this morning come to mind, and I smile and nod through the entire meeting, assuring them that while the company’s lawyers are sufficient, I should like to talk to my own lawyers about this, and that everything is okay, I would really like to go over the terms and conditions of the contract before signing it, and yes, I was reviewing it positively. While they hate that a column is possibly going out of circulation, they can’t help but think about all the extra money this is going to be bringing in, the extra money and the popularity, being known as the company that fostered a young author’s work. It’s a win-win deal, one that I would be stupid to turn down.

I leave the meeting room and call Jihoon, my hands shaking, and he picks up within three rings, his voice soothing and calm like it always is, “hello?”

“I’m going to be a writer,” I say, no other explanation or long-winded preamble, and Jihoon understands, “can you come pick me up from work?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

I stand up, straighten my pants, and leave the bathroom, marching straight up to the editor’s desk, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

“The rest of the day?” he sputters, “wait, what about the interview?”

Seungkwan pops up his head, “I can write that. It’s just compiling all that was said.”

“I’ll check it, and Seungkwan needs to take point on a project,” I say, “besides, if you want me to focus on the column full-time, then someone needs to interview Writer Hong instead of me, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t be leaving in the middle of the day,” he protests weakly, and the Assistant Editor smacks him with a pamphlet, “what was that for?”

“Clearly, she has someone waiting to pick her up, you buffoon,” she groans, “when will you understand? Just because your love life is barren, doesn’t mean everyone else is the same as you.”

Seungkwan winces, “wait, are you going home with Jihoon-hyung right now?”

I roll my eyes, “would you prefer to have the sordid details?”

“No, thank you.”

A peal of laughter follows me as I walk out of the office, and then the elevator and then Jihoon is standing in the lobby, flushed and wonderful, his nose red in the snow and biting wind. Because I’m a sane woman who is not given to theatrics, I merely walk up to him and tuck my arm into his, moving past the sliding doors onto the street. He’s wearing slippers, I notice, he must have come here straight from the studio.

“Very different from the feral woman who attacked me last night, I see,” Jihoon murmurs, strapping me into the seat of his car and kissing me for a tad bit (okay, thirty seconds) longer than what can be termed as an appropriate hello kiss.

“I was not that feral.”

“I have to wear a turtleneck for a week!” he exclaims, pulling down his shirt to show the extent of the damage, and I look away, embarrassed, “no! you don’t get to look away from me!”

“I like you in turtlenecks.”

That pleases him, and he smiles , “then I’ll wear them throughout the year.”

“Jihoon, you’ll suffocate.”

“I’ll have you.” He grins, “so, celebration?”

“I want to laze away today. Take a nap. Order shitty food.”

“I’m assuming there’s coitus involved. And not to mention, you dragged me out of work today.”

I wrinkle my nose, “do not say that word ever again, or else I’m kicking you out of my bed. And besides, what’s the point in being a famous producer if they don’t let you get home to your fiancée now and then?”

“What, coitus?”

“You’re no longer allowed into my bed,” I mutter darkly, and he just laughs.

The apartment building is mostly quiet this time of the day, but we pass a fair few old people who give us strange looks for coming back so early from work. Given that there have been multiple witnesses to me coming back at one in the morning, tired from overtime, and Jihoon walking into the elevator when the old ladies have finished their morning stroll, dark shadows under his eyes so pronounced he had to sleep for a week to get rid of them.

Jihoon presses the code to his home, and the two of us walk into the hallway, closing the door behind us to avoid the cold draught from chilling us to the bone.

“What should we get/” Jihoon toes off his slippers, scrolling absent-minded through his phone, “there’s a shop that delivers samgyetang, and I thought we could get some delivered, since you’ve been coming down with that cold for the past few days.”

“I’d like that,” I shake off my own shoes, sensible boots compared to Jihoon’s slippers, and kiss him again, for no other reason that I can and I will. He smiles against my mouth, “order me a whole chicken, Jihoon-ssi.”

“Two whole chickens,” he amends, “we can have the soup throughout the week. Shower?”

It is an innocuous enough question, but the way Jihoon’s eyes flash makes something shift inside of me, and I find myself returning his little smirk, peeling off the heavy coat, “you know there’s a water shortage.”

“Hmm. Its very bad. We should be conserving all the water we can.”

Jihoon pulls me close to kiss me again, and I laugh, leading him towards the shower.

—

My hometown is a quiet town. Sleepy, with neighbours that know everything about everyone. I used to hate them when I was younger, hated the way they always compared me to my sister, told me I had to be better in order for me to meet my parents’ expectations, as if nothing I did was good enough when compared to her. Nowadays, it’s a welcome distraction; reminding me of the fact that nothing in my town really changes, or will ever change. Not for the better, nor for the worse.

“Oh, are you here for the wedding?” the old man at the fruit shop says, as Jihoon and I walk out of the car, Jihoon yawning behind a closed fist, having slept half the way while I drove, “wait, you’re Yong-Hwa’s sister-in-law!”

“Yes, we’re here for the wedding,” I reply, as Jihoon shakes the falling cherry blossoms out of his hair, “just wanted to pick some fruits to take back to the house.”

That get’s his attention, and he spends an entire half-hour detailing to us every fruit he had at the store, and how good they would taste in season. In the end, we buy a box of strawberries, ones that he assures me are going to ‘taste like heaven’, and Jihoon is taking the driver’s seat for once, and we are speeding towards the house where I have spent my childhood and adolescence.

“Hasn’t been that long since I visited this place.” Jihoon says, turning a corner so that my home is visible, “this feels different somehow.”

“Yes, well, we weren’t together when you visited my mom. And its only a reminder of how much she wants me to visit, and I keep avoiding her requests.”

“But you’re here for the wedding.” He says, and I turn to look at him. Jihoon looks resolute, his mouth set in a line I haven’t seen for a long time, the light casting deep shadows on his face. My eyes move to the smooth gold band on his ring finger, its identical twin gleaming on my hand. He’s nervous, navigating this journey from being my friend to being my intended, meeting the family all over again, essentially.

There are flowers all over the house, bursting into bloom for my sister’s wedding, and I think to myself, this is how it usually is, huh. It’s a surprise that the usual dread that settles into me at the thought of getting married has been replaced with a pleasant anticipation, looking forward to navigating a lifetime with Jihoon.

“You’re here!” my mother shouts as we get down from the car, “they’re here!” she yells to someone inside the house, and soon enough, my father ambles out, looking every bit the disgruntles, emotionless father I had grown up with, looking at his youngest daughter and her partner. My mother envelops me into a crushing hug, but its my father’s gaze that I cannot return, because to this day I cannot live up to the ideal that he had had constructed for me.

My mother doesn’t notice the rings on our fingers, or even if she does, she doesn’t say anything, and we just haul the suitcases up into the house, where Jihoon has the guest bedroom, and I have my old childhood one. Settled in, I leave Jihoon to his devices, answering calls from the company about the new album, and walk down to the kitchen to help my mother with dinner.

“Is everything all right with Jihoon?” she asks, cutting carrots into tiny little pieces, “are you two finally together?”

I say nothing, just pour myself a glass of tea, “didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Oh, the couple rings were too nice to not notice, actually,” she laughs, “its good. You two suit each other very much.”

“Now you’re saying that to take the piss,” I grumble, “you’ve never once approved of the people I’ve dated, whether I dated them or not.”

“That’s because you dated them to stop your mind from crashing and burning,” my mother says, gentle as ever, putting the ingredients for soup into a big pot, “you’ve always been headstrong that way.”

“As opposed to my sister?”

My mother sighs,  a sign of a battle she’s already lost against herself, “I’m sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I wave my hand. It matters so much. “I was the problem child, I guess. Every family needs one.”

“You were not a problem child,” my mother says, “you were just out of our reach, at times. and when we finally thought we understood you, you ran away and concealed yourself from us.”

“That’s what I was taught.”

“And I should have taught you differently.”

“Never mind, mother,” I give her a quick smile, “you’ll be watching your daughter get married, and in a few years, you’ll be a grandmother, and that will give you enough happiness to tide you over for the next ten years.”

“I think about you too, you know.”

“Congratulations on that, mother.” I reply, walking out of the kitchen.

Jihoon is sitting on the bed when I open the door, hands clutched around a  cup, “I wish we hadn’t come back.”

He raises an eyebrow, “this is your home.”

“I know, its just—there’s no one here that knows me, and even if they do, its only by association, as the sister, and my parents are all on eggshells around me, because I blew up in their faces about my childhood, and how much I hated being here, and its never going to stop, is it, I’m going to be this way, this festering, annoying, difficult, person, and I’ll never really be normal ever again—”

Jihoon wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug that’s at once reassuring and scandalous, “you’ll be fine. Your family are, well, they’re sorry, and they’re on eggshells because they don’t know how to approach you anymore. It happens. You can leave to Seoul and have your career, but they’re going to stay on in this town, and be reminded of the fact that maybe they didn’t do enough. Let them hover. It’ll put them at ease.”

“Fine.” I grumble, “I just came back because I love my sister. And Yong-Hwa. He needs to have a chance to run away before he hitches himself to her.”

Jihoon laughs, “would you say the same thing for me?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”

He unwraps his arms from around me, fishing in his pocket, “wait, I forgot the ring at home.”

I gape, “you were going to propose to me?”

“Yes, but now that I forgot the ring, there’s going to be no proposal.” Jihoon grumbles, “stupid.”

“That’s fine, it would have been inappropriate for us to take away my sister’s spotlight,” I grin, pulling him back into a hug, “I accept, nonetheless.”

“Really?”

“I do expect a proper proposal back  in Seoul.”

“As you wish, always.”

—

Jihoon proposes with a car full of balloons, and he enlists the help of the other guys to make the proposal truly memorable, a phrase that I’m rapidly beginning to attribute to him. its gorgeous, and everything I had never imagined when it came to a proposal. The wedding, however, is much my style, the two of us traipsing down to the courthouse to submit a form and being declared married by the clerk, who tells us darkly that there’s a divorce counter just in the next room. Jihoon laughs, and I laugh, before walking out of the courthouse to meet our friends (and family) for dinner.

It’s a new life.

—

To LJH,

For being my friend.

[greengoblinswifey]

Ring In the New Year— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— On New Year’s Eve, you join Rafe at a country club party, your first time celebrating with the Kooks. You share your first New Years kiss at midnight, followed by starting the New Year together in a way only Rafe could make unforgettable.

warnings— smoking, drinking, slight voyeurism, cross faded quickie, praise kink, unprotected sex, choking, creampie.

a/n— happy new year everyone, may 2025 bring us all happiness and we achieve all our goals <3

The country club was everything you expected and more, live jazz music, and perfectly dressed Kooks everywhere. It was your first New Year’s Eve on this side of the Outer Banks, and you couldn't help but feel like you were stepping into another world.

You glanced at Rafe from behind your little camera, snapping a candid shot of him sipping champagne. He caught you in the act, smirking as he sauntered over.

“Are you documenting how good I look tonight, or just making sure you never forget this moment?” he teased, sliding his arms around your waist from behind.

“Maybe both,” you replied, leaning back into him. “You clean up nice, Rafe Cameron.”

He chuckled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Good, because I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He leaned in close, his voice a low murmur only you could hear. “Get high, then take you somewhere private and ruin that cute little outfit.”

Your cheeks heated, but you kept your cool, swatting his arm lightly. “Only weed, no coke, Rafe. And let’s enjoy the night firs.. You’ll get your New Year’s—wish,” you teased, “but I’m getting my New Year’s kiss first.”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your neck before pulling back. “Deal. But don’t make me wait too long, baby.”

The night was filled with laughter, Rafe’s touches, and bubbly drinks. After a bit of coaxing, Rafe led you out onto the terrace, where you shared a joint under the stars. The cool winter air mixed with the warmth of the champagne buzz as you both leaned against the railing.

“You’re such a bad influence, you know that?” you teased, exhaling a soft cloud of smoke.

He smirked, brushing a curl from your face. “And you love it.”

As the countdown to midnight began, Rafe pulled you into his arms, the world around you fading as the room erupted with excitement.

“Ten, nine,eight—”

His hands settled on your waist, his forehead resting against yours.

“Seven, six, five—”

“Ready for your kiss, Pogue?” he murmured, his lips just a breath away from yours.

“Four, three, two—”

The room erupted into cheers, fireworks bursting outside the windows, but all you could feel was Rafe’s lips on yours. The kiss was electric, soft yet demanding, like he’d been waiting all night to taste you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, he smirked, his hands tightening on your waist. “Got what you wanted, huh?”

You grinned, giggling as he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. “Yeah. Best New Year’s kiss ever.”

“Good,” he murmured, taking your hand and tugging you toward the hallway. “Now it’s my turn.”

Your laughter bubbled up as he found an empty room, locking the door behind you. “Rafe, we’re at a country club,” you whispered, giggling as he pinned you lightly against the wall, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

“And?” he countered, his lips brushing yours. “New Year, new rules. Starting with you, baby.”

The room was quiet, except for the rapid thud of your heart in your chest. Rafe was close, his hands grabbing your ass, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“You sure you want this, baby?” Rafe’s voice was rough and enough to make you shiver. His hand rested on your waist, fingers tightening just enough to make you shiver.

You nodded, lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss. “More than anything,” you breathed out.

With that, Rafe was on you, pushing you back against the cool wood of the door, his body pressing you into the surface. His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, as his hands worked quickly, pulling your dress up, fingers tracing the lines of your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” His words were broken between kisses. “The way you look at me, the way you feel.”

You tugged at his shirt, eager to feel the heat of his skin. “I need you, Rafe.”

He growled softly, taking your hand and guiding it down to his waistband and pulling down it and his boxers in one go, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you. “You’ve got me, baby. Let’s make this count.”

His lips crashed back onto yours, and the world outside of that room ceased to exist. He hooked his finger under your thong, shifting it and lining his large, hard cock against your entrance. He was so hard, so hard that you could feel him throbbing against you. He slipped inside your wet pussy and began to move, hands and cock in a perfect rhythm, fast, heated, like every second was precious. His breath was hot against your skin, his voice soft but commanding as he whispered encouragements, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered. “So fucking perfect. You feel so good, baby.”

He kissed you harder, his hand slipping up to your throat, gently wrapping around it as he kissed away the soft moans escaping your lips. His thumb grazed your skin, the pressure just enough to make everything feel even more intense. You gasped, but his kiss swallowed the sound, his other hand sliding between your bodies on your clit, quick and decisive.

Every second felt like it was stretched out, the air thick with lust and passion. He kissed you once more, biting your plump bottom lip as he did like a man starved. Your hands roamed his back then up to his head, running your fingers through the little hair he had as he fucked you against the door. The whole party was oblivious and knowing anyone could pass by and hear you turned Rafe on more than you could imagine.

His fingers rubbing your clit coupled with his large hand wrapped around your neck would not allow you to last much longer. Your pussy tightened around his cock earning a low moan that you swallowed in a messy kiss.

“Fuck, baby, I can feel how close you are, cum with me, cum all over my cock,” he growled.

Then it was over as quickly as it had begun. Your jaws fell agape, soft moans leaving your lips as you stared into each other’s eyes. A soul crashing orgasm took ahold of you, your pussy drenching his thick cock buried deep inside you as his cum shot into your womb.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you mewled, your whole body shaking.

Breathing heavily, Rafe pulled out, his forehead against yours. “Best way to start the New Year,” he murmured, a smug smile spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, still reeling from the rush. “Best New Year’s I’ve had.”

Rafe chuckled, his hands gently smoothing down your dress, fixing the mess you’d both made. “You’re mine now, you know that?”

You smiled, biting your lip. “I thought I already was.”

[koyagifs]

the quarry master list

summary: Welcome to Hackett Quarry camp counselors! We know the events that have unfolded back in 2021 was devastating but we’re happy to announce we’ll be opening for the summer of 2025! With new management and now even more tighter security, we can guarantee your children are safe. We'll love to introduce our new counselors this year! warning(s): Minors do not interact! All characters will be aged up! The boys are in a relationship with the reader but not with each other! They will all be in their early 20's, including the hyung line. This is a horror fic! There will be mention of blood and guns. Characters will curse frequently, make many lewd sexual remarks toward one another, and reference drugs and alcohol, even going as far as having a few drinks around a campfire. Minors do not interact!

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓈 ℴ𝓅ℯ𝓃 ♡︎ updates will be ever monday at 12pm ♡︎

♡︎ 𝓅𝓁ℯ𝒶𝓈ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓂𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉 ℴ𝓇 𝓈ℯ𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝓉ℴ 𝒷ℯ 𝒶𝒹𝒹ℯ𝒹

prologue chapter one: hackett's quarry forever! chapter two: the hag of hackett's quarry chapter three: truth or dare chapter four: trouble in paradise chapter five: late night dive chapter six: hold still chapter seven: who and what the fuck is going on chapter eight: you shot him! chapter nine: werewolves chapter ten: the final boss *NEW* epilogue

[feudalconnection]

Term 1 2025 Winners!

As always, us mods here at FeudalConnection want to give a huge thank you to everyone who participated in the First Term 2025 Inuyasha Fandom Awards! Your participation and support for this fandom is simply incredible!

As a reminder, the winners have evolved into First, Second, and Third place awards. We are allowing ties for first place winners, rather than go into a run off period.

- For categories with up to four nominations, a First place banner will be awarded to the winner.

- For categories which received five to six nominations, First and Second place banners will be awarded to the winners.

- For categories which received up to seven to ten nominations, First, Second, and Third place banners will be awarded to the winners.

And now, without further delay, here we are!

Winners for Term 1 2025 Inuyasha Fandom Awards, hosted by FeudalConnection!

Best Action/Adventure Fiction

First Place: "Fallen" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

Best Alternate Universe/Reality Fiction

First Place: "Midnight" by @sereia1313 / Sereia13 (AO3) Second Place: "Just for a Little While" by @fawn-eyed-girl / Fawn_Eyed_Girl (AO3) Third Place: "Made to Order" by @chiaztolite

Best Canon Universe Fiction

First Place: "Casual(?)" by @ruddcatha Second Place: "Beneath Goshinboku" by Ldesu (AO3)

Best Angst Fiction

First Place: "Legacy" by @fandomobsessions016 Second Place: "Whispers of the Heart" by @theshipthatgotaway / SimpforSessKag (the_ship_that_got_away) (AO3)

Best Dark Fiction

First Place: "Legacy" by @fandomobsessions016 Second Place: "I Can Hear You" by @ladydanitar

Best Drama Fiction

First Place: "Madame Masseuse" by princess_pumpernickle (AO3)

Best Humor/Parody Fiction

First Place: "It's Not Me, It's You, Hojo" by @xanthippe-writes / xanthippewrites (AO3) Second Place: "Deck the Dumbass: A Christmas Banger" by @elkonigin Third Place: "Ghost of You" by @k9plus1 / WickedsNonProfitWhoreganization (AO3)

Best NSFW Fiction

First Place (tie): "Gilded Cage" by @k9plus1 / WickedsNonProfitWhoreganization (AO3) and "Madame Masseuse" by princess_pumpernickel (AO3) Second Place: "From Beginning to End" by @dawnrider

Best Oneshot

First Place: "Empty Nesting" by Flamethemightydragon (AO3) Second Place (tie): "A Miko's Fantasy" by @coccinellesroses and Emmyyasha (AO3) and "Piece and Quiet (and a Whole Lot of Canoodling)" by @inuyashamybeloved / InuScarlett (AO3)

Best Character Portrayal Fiction

First Place: "Old History, New Story" (Inuyasha) by @dawnrider

Best InuKag Romance Fiction

First Place: "Daiyokai Only Dress in Couture" by @neutronstarchild / NeutrInu (AO3)

Best SessKagu Romance Fiction

First Place: "The Wind Will Guide You" by @jewel-shard / Jewel_shard (AO3) Second Place (tie): "I Knew It Was You" by @serial-doubters-club / hakomorebi (AO3) and "This Life and The Next" by @heynikkiyousofine

Best Romance Fiction

First Place: "Silver Scales" by @mitsiepitsie / Mitsje (AO3)

Best Rare Pair Fiction

First Place: "A Match Made in Alleyways" by @classysassy9791 / ClassySassy (AO3)

Best Fluff Fiction

First Place: "A Sweet Story of Us Two" by @anyara Second Place (tie): "The Scrooge and The Sugar Cookie" by @rainandyarn and "Hungry Like A Wolf" by @mynightshining

Best Serial Fiction

First Place: "The Journey of a Lifetime (With You)" by @ruddcatha

Best Ficlet

First Place (tie): "Pillow Talk" by @sereia1313 / Sereia13 (AO3) and "Casual(?)" by @ruddcatha

Best Character Development

First Place: "From Beginning to End" (Inuyasha) by @dawnrider

Best Completed Fiction

First Place: "The Journey of a Lifetime (With You)" by @ruddcatha

Best Action/Adventure Artwork

First Place: "InuKag ice skate" by @moonkissedart

Best Alternate Universe/Reality Artwork

First Place: "Tell Me... (InuKag Yakuza AU)" by LenBarboza (X)

Best Canon Artwork

First Place (tie): "What I Hold" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3) and "Dia 9 del #Moontober de @/CartoonsOTMoon - Naturaleza." by @jmeestella / JmeEstella_rt (X)

Best Angst Artwork

First Place: "untitled" by frosty_bean (IG)

Best Dark Artwork

First Place: "Fall" by @classysassy9791 / ClassySassy (AO3)

Best Humor/Parody Artwork

First Place: "Inuyasha Chasing the Butterfly" by Angel_KagomeX (X)

Best Kiss Artwork

First Place: "Untitled" by @kalcia

Best Character Artwork

First Place: "The new moon dawns" by mtb_umk (X) Second Place: "Lord Sesshomaru" by @anyanary

Best Duo/Pairing Artwork

First Place: "Kaede and Hachi" by @rhies

Best Doujinshi

First Place: "Mating Fever" by @clearwillow / BrigidTheFae (AO3)

Best Redraw Artwork

First Place: "untitled" by frosty_bean (IG)

Best NSFW Artwork

First Place: "❤️‍🔥" by LenBarboza (X)

Best InuKag Romance Artwork

First Place: "they're perfect <3" by @mochironmochi Second Place: "Tell Me... (Inukag Yakuza AU)" by LenBarboza (X)

Best SessKagu Romance Artwork

First Place: "I like the way you kiss" by @fraufia

Best Romance Artwork

First Place (tie): "Cozy evening" by @eliza-faust-diary and "Untitled" by @julytheartist

Best Rare Pair Artwork

First Place: "Pride" by @mrfeenysmustache / AshMish111 (AO3)

Best Group Depiction

First Place: “😴” by @tmetta

Best Coloring

First Place: "more more more colorful Kagome" by @justafewsmallsteps / HelikaAkileh (AO3) Second Place: "Tried colored line art for the first time" by @talesofthedice

Best Overall Artwork

First Place: "Inukag ice skate" by @moonkissedart Second Place: "kagome's such a girls girl" by @nemiefawn

Congratulations to all the winners! Your awards are ready, so please send one of the mods or this blog your preferred email address so we can send them to you! Also, we please ask that you give at least one week time for your awards to be sent due to the mod-team having IRL commitments. If you have not received it within one week, please reach out to a mod <3

Please note, the winner ban only applies to the first place winner(s) in each division; second and third place winners will be eligible to be nominated again in the next term.

As this term comes to a close, FeudalConnection will be taking a short hiatus. This time is always spent reviewing the process and seeing what can be revamped for next term.

In doing so, the mod-team has been working behind the scenes over the last couple of months to bring about a new method of sending in nominations. This new method will allow people outside of tumblr to send in nominations, and will have an easy fill-in format to hopefully make nominating easier. This will be implemented by the next term, so keep an eye out for a future post with details regarding this.

An immense thank you to everyone who voted on next term's roulette categories!

Roulette Fanfiction Category for Term 2 2025 will be Best Classic Fanfiction. This is defined as: A fanfiction that has been posted outside of the designated timeframe; ie: stories that have been posted and/or updated prior to the 3 years before the start of the term. These are not limited to completed fics, but completed fics may be preferred.

Roulette Fanart Category for Term 2 2025 will be Best Background. This is defined as: A focus on the background, not just the main character(s). This is an appreciation of the work and background that the artist has created.

Roulette Romance Category for Term 2 2025 will be Best Thruple Romance. This will be a category for both Fanart and Fanfiction.

For Fanfiction, it will be defined as: Stories that have developed a believable romance between three Inuyasha characters. "Believable" is subjective, and it is up to those nominating/voting to draw their own line on that quantifier and vote their "Best". This includes canon universe and AU/AR settings.

For Fanart, it will be defined as: Any romantic depiction of three Inuyasha characters.

Remember, all other romantic pairings, besides InuKag & thruples, can be nominated into the Best Romance category. All other pairings will be up for voting again next term. We will continue cycling through desired pairings to give spotlight to as many pairings as possible.

We will officially be back in full swing May 1st! We will still be around in case you have questions or concerns, but feel free to take this time to read new fanfiction and find new fanart. We strongly encourage everyone to review/comment/reblog so to spread the love of this fandom around. 

Want to stay immersed in the Inuyasha fandom? Head on over and join our Discord server, which is open to everyone! Or follow @inuyasha-events​ to stay up-to-date on all the current and upcoming fandom events!

As the day gets closer to the start of the second term of 2025, we will be keeping everyone in the loop when it comes to changes and updates. Thank you all again for making this such a wonderful experience! See you soon!

- FeudalConnection

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with The Guardian (2025)

The actor Jonathan Bailey sits at a large table in an otherwise empty room: charcoal cable knit sweater, loose pinstripe trousers, hair neatly coiffed. He is chewing gum, sipping coffee, talking through his recent career, and a certain serendipity that has rendered him reflective. At 36, he’s fresh from his turn as likely-lad love interest Fiyero in Hollywood’s blockbuster adaptation of Wicked; as a child, seeing the stage show was a milestone for him. “I remember thinking Fiyero was such a good part.” Later this year he will star in Jurassic World Rebirth alongside Mahershala Ali and Scarlett Johansson. “I saw the original Jurassic Park with my family, aged six, at the cinema,” he says. “It was the first time we all went together to something like that. It was seminal, but so rare for us.”

And this month, Bailey will star in Richard II at the Bridge Theatre, directed by Nicholas Hytner. Bailey is its protagonist. It is another example of full-circle career moment. In 2013, he appeared on stage in Hytner’s Othello. Same playwright, same director, same city – Bailey can’t help but consider all that’s changed in the intervening years. “Back then I was too young,” he says. “I came into the rehearsal process not mature or confident enough.”

Landing the role of Cassio, one of Othello’s lieutenants, had been so important to him then. “I didn’t go to drama school,” he says, “and there was a common belief that if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be able to do classical texts, or perform in the big theatres. There are all these stories we are born into that we have to unpick. For me, one of those was how limited I felt.”

Bailey remembers the day that changed. “It was late December,” he says, “and I was walking along London’s South Bank.” He was on his way to the National Theatre to meet Hytner for a callback. “I’d worked so hard and for so many reasons it felt…” He cuts himself off, then goes on, “Working at the National was beyond my wildest dreams.”

Bailey performed the two scenes he’d prepared. Then, Hytner unexpectedly suggested a third, which Bailey hadn’t rehearsed. “I’m not very good at just reading and going,” he says. “I can’t really come up with… Anyway, I went with instincts. He offered me the job in the room. It was a defining moment in my career.”

All sorts of opportunities followed for Bailey: American Psycho at the Almeida; Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s TV debut Crashing; King Lear opposite Ian McKellen; BBC satirical sitcom W1A. He was made very famous for playing a leading Lothario in Bridgerton, the Netflix behemoth. “Now being back with Nick,” he says. “I have a much fuller and more cherished understanding of him as a human as well as a director. Getting back into a room with him now, with all that’s happening, just felt obvious.” Hytner’s praise for Bailey is just as high: “He can speak Shakespeare like it’s his first language… The stage is his element.”

It’s Wednesday lunchtime, early January, in a central London studio space. We’re meeting halfway through five weeks of Richard II rehearsals in full swing a few floors below us. He’s sitting at a large table. In front of him is a bulky script covered in yellow highlights. “It’s only half,” he says, flicking through, playful panic in his voice. “Not only that, I’ve thinned it, and taken out the scenes I’m not in, which feels very Richard II.”

It’s Bailey’s first stage production since 2022. Through Bridgerton, he has been exposed to a global audience. But theatre is where it all began. “So returning to the stage, now, just felt so right. And I don’t think I’ve changed at all, even if certain things around me have.” It has taken some adjustment, this new level of “Black Mirror-esque” notoriety that he’s experiencing. It’s why he likes the intimacy of these rehearsals, after months spent on sprawling film sets. And he’s enjoying being based in London for an extended period, close to friends and family.

Bailey is charming, handsome and self-effacing as we talk, but doesn’t seem entirely at ease. That gum chewing is fervent now; he’s fiddling with what’s in front of him. He habitually self-edits as he speaks. There’s a vagueness that, at times, feels purposeful. At regular intervals, he simply stops mid-sentence.

Take the play itself. “It’s such an incredible, searing interrogation of power, government and monarchy…” he says. “You have someone with the cast-iron right to rule, who is absolutely unfit to lead, emotionally underdeveloped… And Shakespeare wrote to be played, not published. There are so many references and nuances to what an Elizabethan audience would have understood… It’s about translating it from that, and delivering it to a modern audience, so the effect hopefully has the same vivid fervency and front-footedness especially politically and especially in this instance with monarchy and leadership.”

It sounds interesting. So where is he turning to for inspiration for his tyrannical overlord? I ask. Trump? King Charles? The Saudis?

“That’s for the viewer to see. I have very clear ideas and I hope the audience will, too…”

He won’t be drawn. I’m curious as to why. He shakes his head.

“You’ll have to come and see it.”

Later, over email, Hytner is more forthright: “The play wonders what happens when an entirely legitimate leader is set on ruining the country he leads. No good options. Submit or resist – either way you end up with chaos.”

Ahead of Wicked’s late-November release, there was a preview screening in Sydney. “It was part of this massive press tour, but for me it only lasted two weeks. The girls are incredible,” Bailey says of his co-stars Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, plugging the project for months on end. “And they’re still at it, still shining.”

In Oz, Bailey went along with one of his sisters and her two daughters in tow. It was the first time he’d sat back and watched the film properly. “I was so overwhelmed,” he says. “Even now, it makes me quite emotional. If there was the purest form of joy I had as a kid, it was singing and dancing.”

His family was based between Reading and Oxford. Bailey has three older sisters. As a child, he’d be dropped at basketball club at the local village hall. “From outside, I could see my sister’s ballet lessons through the window. I wanted to be in there with them. I’d go and wait at the back of their class in my Velcro trainers.” He enrolled. “I was obsessed and loved it. Dancing and singing felt like a vocation.”

Music also filled the family home. By the time Bailey was 10, his sisters would go out clubbing. “The next morning, they’d come back, and I’d get them, hungover, to do impressions of their different friends dancing.” It was a family affair. “We loved 90s club classics. Me, Mum, Dad and my sisters went through a phase of going into the new room – we had an extension, then called it that for 20 years – and we’d put on vinyls and dance, all of us.”

One day, he stopped. “I don’t know what happened,” he says, “for whatever reason, I didn’t confidently carry through the dancing. I got self-conscious in my teens that it was signalling something else. It just didn’t feel… I probably just knew it was better to be playing rugby than dancing. I became really self-conscious. There weren’t other dudes dancing.” One teacher called Bailey a “fairy” in front of his entire class. “In your teenage years it’s so raw. You lose your skin. And there are certain things in life,” he says, “that allow people to think they know something about you, and those assumptions mean you stop doing something you love. You curb or you police yourself. You don’t make the joke, or say the quip. You don’t stand up and advocate for yourself or your friends. And you start to slowly crumple. That’s purely on the basis of this idea of signalling. These stereotypes.”

One becomes fearful, he continues, of the immense hurt that others can cause. “Even more pain than binding yourself up slowly and creating a space of safety and refuge in your own mind or heart. That’s where it gets dangerous and people stop doing the things they’re supposed to. And how brilliant that we…” He pauses, surprised, concerned even – it seems – by how much he’s sharing. “It’s a scary time, isn’t it. On the one hand, I do think there’s such a… People are so much more open-minded about what defines masculinity now. What defines heterosexuality. What defines gender. But on the other hand, there’s a swing, obviously, towards… Anyway, that one will have to be a dot-dot-dot for you.”

It’s not that Bailey dropped performing as a child, only that things took off in a different direction. Back in ballet class, there’d been a callout from the Royal Shakespeare Company. “They needed young boys to play Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol.” He was seven years old. “My parents weren’t sure. It was so outside their world.” His mum worked in the NHS. “And Dad was a DJ, basically, in Piccadilly Circus at [70s nightclub] Snoopys.” But a child actor? “It’s a big ask, from a kid. I was really protected by them, but they gave me this opportunity.” He was cast, and continued to be through school. “It was extraordinary, really. I didn’t miss any lessons. By 13, I’d done three productions for the RSC, and a stint in the West End. All before I hit puberty.” Then came his first Shakespeare production: Prince Arthur in King John at the Barbican with the RSC. “I was 12 or 13, and that set me on another course. ‘Fuck, OK, you can also do this.’” The memories are visceral, even now: “The sickly, sweet smell of fake blood. Dry ice. All those senses. I was taken. That’s maybe where my creative juices were channelled more, over singing and dancing.”

He has worked solidly since his teenage years. Bridgerton, though, catapulted him to stardom. Afterwards, says Bailey, “I was contending with how things would change in my life.” The press introduction, a growing, global fandom, interest in his personal life and sexuality… “On one hand,” he says, “the success of Bridgerton, being able to play that role, and for who I am not to affect people’s perceptions; the love story between a man and a woman.” He pauses, again. Oh, actually.” Some nervous laughter. “It’s just, I’m cautious. I’m who I am and always will be. It’s an extraordinary thing to see and hear the word ‘gay’ next to your name all the time. It’s something I’m incredibly proud of, but it’s also not something anyone else would be defined by. So to go straight from Bridgerton, where inevitably that was talked about, to do a series like Fellow Travellers? It came along like some sort of beacon.”

Fellow Travellers, a Showtime series in which Bailey and Matt Bomer star, follows the romance between two American politicos, from the 1950s to 1980s. Production started as series one of Bridgerton started streaming. Among a predominantly queer central cast, cocooned on set, Bailey’s sexuality was entirely un-noteworthy. “All with our own experiences,” he says, “coming together. And learning about the history… The men who endured and experienced such horrendous and extraordinary things.”

Simultaneously, he was inundated with requests from charities following Bridgerton’s success. “I felt frozen by wanting to help.” The sheer scale of what was being asked and what he might do with his platform, connections and cash felt overwhelming. So, he founded the Shameless Fund. “Raising cash and erasing shame to support the global LGBTQ+ community. We’re giving grants this year. I’m so proud of it. It was all in theory. It seems so obvious and clear. We’ve raised a lot of money for initiatives that need cash and a platform. “And the thing is,” he says, “I can’t be a mouthpiece. I’m an actor.” As is clear through our conversation so far, he’s impassioned and engaged, but being outspoken doesn’t always feel comfortable. It must be challenging, I say. So many eyes and ears pointed in his direction. “The noise is turned up,” he says. “And when it’s about your family, or your identity… And nobody is going to question that headline, in a different outlet with their own agenda. That’s what’s left and it isn’t true. That’s why I’m really protective. I’ve seen something so specific about my identity be twisted. Ultimately you want peace within yourself, because the world is wild enough as it is. It’s too important now, with rights being stripped away. What’s so obviously looming…” Back to Wicked, I suggest.

“OK,” he says, relieved, “so I was doing Cock [his West End stint in Mike Bartlett’s comedy about sexual identity] and I knew a film of Wicked was happening.” In the dressing room before curtain up one night, Bailey recorded a self-tape. “As I was singing, doing a karaoke version of [Fiyero’s big number] Dancing Through Life, I got called to stage on the Tannoy. Fuck it, I just sent it.” There were some positive noises. “Then the dates didn’t look to be working out. Wicked said they couldn’t be sure about what they wanted…” Bailey made other plans. Then, out the blue, dates shifted: the part was his. The months that followed were hectic: during one stretch, while juggling Fellow Travellers, Bridgerton and Wicked, he was filming for 34 days straight.

“I’d come from set, sleep on a flight, go straight to a Bridgerton ball, then the next day be dancing with Ari and Cynthia. Everyone else for Wicked had three months of rehearsal. I had three days.” There’s a knock at the door: Bailey is being summoned back down to rehearsals. “The conclusion to that,” he says, “is Wicked happened and I’m so proud. Before I knew it I was Dancing Through Life…” Suffice to say, he’s thrilled to be.

Richard II is at the Bridge Theatre until 10 May, bridgetheatre.co.uk

Source

[abbysimsfun]

🎆🎊🍾 Happy New Year From the Whole Nesbitt Fam (with Goths, Gordons, Bells, and a Landgraab, too!) 🎇🎉🗓️

I was going to let this post tomorrow, but I kept thinking that's just too late. So this morning was for plot and this afternoon is for pretending the Nesbitts got together for a family portrait on their lawn at midnight on New Year's Eve.

That's the whole main legacy family in one place to ring in the coming year!

Also, it took three decades but I finally picked a couple name for Daisy and Neal. Happy New Year to Neasy and fam, but mostly to you reading this right now! 🎊🍾

I loaded up the game at night and didn't want to wait for morning. Then I struggled for many hours getting this to look even half decent, trying to keep them posed and waiting for them not to all be breathing steam. Finally I got 16 of 17 sims to pose and Heather to stand somewhat as if she's part of the whole thing, so I'm very happy to call this a day night in celebration of founders Daisy and Neal and all they've built together after 32 years of marriage.

clockwise from top left: Conrad Gordon, Lavender Gordon, Tetra Bell, Heather Nesbitt, Karl (Nesbitt) Goth, Mortimer Goth, Samuel "Sammy" Nesbitt, Cassandra (Goth) Nesbitt, Hazel Nesbitt, River Nesbitt, Michael Nesbitt, Neal Nesbitt, Daisy Nesbitt holding granddaughter Betta Bell, Holly (Nesbitt) Bell, Kris Bell, and Ash Landgraab

This is by far the most sims I've posed yet so I'm ringing in the New Year with a new challenge for myself. Despite the poor choice of setting and lighting I'm very happy with it - especially since it took three poses in one to get done.

I mainly used @goldoradove's excellent Happy Family pose for 19 sims. But Tetra could not be found among the feet beneath the sofa so I switched tactics and posed her and Heather with BommieSims' Children's Day posepack (only Tetra stayed put), which I can't actually find to link anymore. If anyone knows where to find it, let me know! And Ash was posed with @somneasims' Our Legacy posepack, which I really like a lot - I also used it for Bella and her fam's cozy Winterfest portrait. Even Heather, who isn't looking at the camera, at least looks engaged in the moment enough (watching Tetra balance on her dad's arm when she should be holding her?!) for me to say I'm happy.

Daisy, Neal, his brother Karl, all four kids and six grandkids, plus son-in-law Kris Bell, daughter-in-law Cassandra, future son-in-law Conrad Gordon, and Karl's husband, Mortimer Goth (he's also Cass' dad and Michael and Sammy's granddad; since they missed out on Bella's Winterfest portrait I definitely had to include them now.)

Thank you for a great first half-year on Simblr. I love this place and all your creativity so much. Here's to 2025 and whatever madness this game we all love throws our way!

Friday, we're leaving this ice box weather and sending Conrad to Sulani in search of George Brindleton, who's gone silent, and hopefully (finally) he'll find Rafa, too!

Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

And for funsies, the full family group sheet (not including Karl and Morty): for reference, it's basically the end of 2057/start of 2058 in game, Lavender and Betta are two and a half, Sammy is two, Tetra's almost five, Michael is six, and Ash is almost eight already!

Sims In Bloom: Generations 1-3 Family Tree

Daisy Lea (Darden) Nesbitt (2003-) m. Neal Sims Nesbitt (2002-) 1. Heather Lea "Buttercup" Nesbitt (2025-) r. Malcolm Chester Landgraab (2025-) [r. 2046-49] *not pictured* 1. Ash Neal Landgraab (2050-) e. Conrad Stephen Gordon (2025-) 2. Lavender Helena Gordon (2055-) 2. Holly Darden (Nesbitt) Bell (2027-) m. Kristopher "Kris" Michael Bell (2027-) *son of Michael Bell & Cecilia Kang* [m. 2049-] 1. Tetra Daisy Bell (2053-) 2. Betta Cecilia Bell (2055-) 3. River James Nesbitt (2029-) m. Cassandra Enriqueta (Goth) Nesbitt (2028-) [m. 2050-] 1. Michael "Mike" Bachelor Nesbitt (2052-) 2. Samuel "Sammy" Crumplebottom Nesbitt (2056-) 4. Hazel Honey Nesbitt (2033-) div. Nicola Kimberly Moody-McMillan (2033-) [m. 2054-57] *to be seen on @changingplumbob's Dating Deanna starting this winter and not pictured*

[bookie-bookdust]

Helpful (but Aggressive) Guide to the new Hogwarts Legacy PC Mod Update✨

I have been seeing NOTHING BUT COMPLAINING about this damn update and no one actually trying to help each other. So I'm going to do my damn best here to give you a little intro into this new update. Because instead of leaning into the standard toxic consumerism bullshit of fandom, why don't we actually try to be nice to each other?? And the fucking modders who put all this time and effort into making this for us?!?!!?!?!? Special thanks to @anomalyaly because we were up last night trying to figure this out LOL. These screenshots are hers and mine!

PART ONE: Why is my game crashing?

You need to delete your old Nexus ~mod folder from the game files. Throw it in the trash, cut and past it somewhere in your documents, idc. Just get it out of there. The pathway to find it is:

2. Steam senses your bad attitude and don't like it idk. I'm not IT. Turn it off and back on again.

NOTE: Once you start up the game and get it working, you can bring back compatible mods from Nexus. You just need to create a new folder to put them in. It can't be the original one. If your game crashes after that, then you have an incompatible mod in there. You'll have to go down the list until you narrow down which one it is - typically will be a face mod, hair mod, jewelry, or a mod that already exists in the new mod store thing. Yeet it.

PART TWO: I'm not going to teach you how to add the new in-game mods and start the game. I'm not your mom. It's pretty intuitive honestly.

PART THREE: Where the fuck are the clothing mods I just added????

An excellent question, my new charge. You need to go to GladRags to get them. You're going to have to long rest at least three days for them to show up in his store. For me, it took five times lol. This is kind of annoying, but it needs to be immersive to the game I guess so oh well. I don't think we'll die from it.

See all those red exclamation points? That was my fault. I loaded a wizard clothing mod into a witch save. So if you see that, you loaded something you shouldn't have.

PART FOUR: HOW DO I CHANGE MY UGLY ASS HAIR?

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. You're going to go to that hairstyle lady in Hogsmeade I'm too lazy to look up the name of. That bitch charges you for the new hairstyles but you can download unlimited money cheats so whatever.

Don't mind my face lol. I was having a BP makeup glitch LOL

PART THIRTY-SEVEN: How do I change my makeup?

This part sucks. RIGHT NOW as of 1/31/2025, you have to be in the main character design screen at the beginning of the damn game. BUT BUT BUT - if you mod back in the BP character editor, you can do it anywhere. My hope is a new mod will replace this so the game works more smoothly.

Those white spaces? They're the new in-game mods for hair and makeup. Well, most of them. I think some are just random blank spaces lol.

Part Six: Where are my unlocked spells and unlimited plants and shit?

Two reasons they're not showing up:

If you just added this mod and you load your game in the middle of the mission, you need to finish the mission first.

You probably have something incompatible (a nexus mod) that isn't playing nice. Yeet it.

After getting everything squared away, I look fucking great. You are not doomed to a potato face🥔. I FUCKING PROMISE YOU ON SOLOMON'S LIFE.

Truly guys, once you work out the kinks in this update, it's really. fucking. nice.

Before I reinstalled the nexus mods, the game was running so smoothly and the graphics were beautiful. I loaded in 20 mods all at once, and the game handled them just fine. After reloading the nexus mods it was a bit clunky, but of course it would be.

I know change is scary. Also for those who spent time creating/commissioning mods that are no longer compatible, they have the biggest right to be freaking out. BUT BUT BUT we all fucking know the old mods AND SO MANY MORE will be back soon. People are working their asses off in the background converting things right now.

I want to put some things into perspective for you:

We have not had a real update in two years (no, photo mode doesn't count). This is literally the best kind of update we could ever ask for. We are not dependent on the devs for updates with this. In the launch event they were speaking as if you can create your own quests; there are audio mods....think about it guys. Endless protentional. (The only things that aren't going to make it are if you have weird ass like engorgio penis mods because there's no way they're approving those for public use hahahaha)

The devs reached out to people in the community to ask for feedback and to collaborate. THEY CARE ABOUT THE FANDOM. Consider what that may mean for the sequel??? We might not be forced to stomach Hogwarts Legacy 2: Dumbledore's Jorts. They're listening (but they're not going to listen if you're fucking rude and stupid).

You guys shitting on this update very vocally here, on twitter, and on tiktok are forgetting that people in your community helped create it and can SEE YOU. STOP IT. Whine in private!!!!!! Also because I knowww I have to specify because someone is going to take everything personally, I don't mean posts making funny jokes about the updates and just being like ahhhh wtf is going on I'm so lost and whatnot. Like please guys, read the room. I'm referring to nasty comments.

So yes, I'm here with a positive review of the update, and an insanely aggressive reminder to calm the fuck down and go touch some grass. The old mods will be back soon. This update makes using them so much easier. Also, THE POOR CONSOLE PLAYERS DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING YET SOOOOOOOO

I WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY QUESTIONS OR CRITICISM SO STFU. THANKS FOR READING THIS LONG ASS POST IF YOU'RE STILL HERE. OKAAAY BYEEeeEE.

[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 25 -

a/n - Happy New Year!!!!

The house was packed. Music thumped through the speakers, reverberating in my chest, and there were drinks in everyone’s hands. It was New Year’s Eve, and Matt had convinced me to come to a party hosted by an old hockey friend from his high school club team. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Matt had barely left my side all night, which was a little surprising considering how independent he usually was at parties. But every time I turned to grab a drink or talk to someone, he was there, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back or his arm casually draped over my shoulders. It was subtle, but it felt like he wanted everyone to know I was with him, that I was his, and I couldn’t deny that it made me feel special.

Chris was there too, bouncing around the party like he was trying to talk to everyone in the room. At one point, he stopped by where Matt and I were sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. “Charlie says hi,” he said, holding up his screen to show her smiling face.

“Hi, Charlie!” I called, waving at her through the screen.

“Hi, Y/N!” she said with a laugh. “Wish I could be there with you guys.”

“Next year,” I promised, and she nodded.

The night passed in a blur of laughter, drinks, and music. At one point, Matt pulled me onto the dance floor, spinning me around in a way that was so goofy and awkward that I couldn’t stop laughing. But as the clock crept closer to midnight, the party shifted. People began to gather in the living room, drinks in hand, as the host turned on the TV to show the ball drop in Times Square.

“Two minutes!” someone shouted, and a buzz of excitement rippled through the room.

I looked up at Matt, who was already watching me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. “What?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the noise around us.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… thinking.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t press him, turning my attention back to the TV. The countdown had started—“Ten! Nine! Eight!”—and the energy in the room was electric.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Matt leaned down, his voice low in my ear. “You ready for this?”

“For what?” I asked, turning to look at him.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Before I could respond, Matt cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It wasn’t just a peck or a quick celebratory kiss—it was slow, deliberate, and filled with an intensity that took my breath away. I could hear people cheering around us, but it all faded into the background as I focused on him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and he whispered, “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year,” I replied, my heart racing.

“Get a room!” Nick called from somewhere behind us, making Matt laugh and me roll my eyes.

Meanwhile, Chris was off to the side, holding his phone up as he FaceTimed Charlie. “You ready?” he asked her, and she nodded with a smile. As the party around us continued to celebrate, Chris kissed the screen, and Charlie did the same on her end, laughing as she said, “This is so cheesy.”

“You love it,” Chris shot back, grinning.

The rest of the night was a blur of celebrations, but that moment at midnight stuck with me. It felt like a new beginning—not just for the year, but for me and Matt. As we left the party hand in hand, I couldn’t help but feel like 2025 was going to be a good year for us.

The next day I sat on my bed in pjs, simply watching T.V. It was the night before Matt, Chris, and Nick were set to leave for Los Angeles to meet with their manager. The trip had been planned for a while, but now that it was here, it felt like it had snuck up on me. I knew it was only a few days, but the thought of not having Matt around felt… strange. We’d been inseparable over the break, and now he and his brothers were about to hop on a plane across the country.

Charlie had taken the three hour drive to my house to spend the week, so we could see them off together the next morning. She showed up in her usual cozy attire—a sweatshirt and leggings—with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“This is gonna be weird,” she said as we settled into my living room, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. “I’m so used to hanging out with them every day now.”

“Tell me about it,” I replied, pulling a blanket over my legs. “Matt hasn’t gone more than a few hours without texting me since we started dating, and now he’s about to be in a completely different time zone.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What, you think he’s gonna forget about you while he’s out there?”

“Not at all,” I said with a laugh. “But it’s still weird. I’m gonna miss him.”

We spent the night talking about our classes, the boys, and how excited we were for them to take this next big step. As much as I hated the idea of saying goodbye, I was genuinely happy for them. They’d worked so hard, and they deserved all the opportunities coming their way.

By the time we finally went to bed, it was late, but neither of us slept much. The next morning, we were up early, groggy but determined to make it to the airport with them. Charlie and I quickly got ready, throwing on sweats and hoodies before heading to the triplets’ house.

When we arrived, the boys were in their usual state of chaos—Nick was running around trying to find his charger, Chris was attempting to shove way too many things into his carry-on, and Matt was calmly scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re seriously not packed yet?” I teased Matt as I walked in, shaking my head.

“I packed last night,” he said, grinning. “Unlike them, I’m organized.”

“Barely,” Nick muttered, walking past with a tangled mess of cords in his hands.

Charlie and I hung around the house as the boys finished up their last-minute packing, making sure they had everything they needed. When it was finally time to go, we piled into the car with them, the atmosphere buzzing with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

At the airport, the goodbyes felt more emotional than I expected. Charlie hugged Chris tightly, whispering something to him that made him smile, while Nick gave me one of his signature dramatic goodbyes, complete with a mock tearful wave.

Finally, it was just me and Matt. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping securely around me as he rested his chin on top of my head.

“You gonna miss me?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Of course,” I said, leaning back to look up at him. “You better text me as soon as you land.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smile. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “I’ll try not to.”

As they walked through security, Charlie and I stood there waving until they disappeared from view. The drive home was quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts.

“They better not find other bitches out there,” Charlie said eventually, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I'll kill them.”

Four days later, the boys were finally on their way back home. It felt like forever since I’d seen Matt, even though we texted and FaceTimed constantly while he was in Los Angeles. The moment he told me they’d landed, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of excitement.

I was home with Charlie, both of us eagerly waiting for them to come over. We’d already set up the living room with blankets, pillows, and snacks for the sleepover.

“You think they’re exhausted, or are we keeping them up all night?” Charlie asked, plopping down on the couch.

“Oh, we’re definitely keeping them up,” I said with a grin.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door, and I jumped up to answer it. Matt stood there, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, looking as handsome as ever despite the long flight. Chris and Nick were right behind him, both of them beaming.

“Did you miss us?” Matt asked as he stepped inside, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead.

“Not at all,” I teased, grabbing his bag and setting it by the stairs. “You guys should’ve stayed longer.”

Nick dramatically clutched his chest. “Rude. You know you missed me the most.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Oh, definitely. Life was so quiet without you.”

We all laughed as they settled in, kicking off their shoes and claiming spots on the couch. Chris and Charlie immediately started bickering over who got to pick the movie, while Nick made a beeline for the snacks. Matt, as usual, was more reserved, quietly sitting down beside me and pulling me closer to him.

“You’re quiet,” I said softly, glancing up at him.

“Just tired,” he replied, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But I missed this. Missed you.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I missed you too.”

Once everyone was settled, we ended up putting on a movie none of us really watched, too busy catching up and laughing about their trip. They told us all about the meetings, the weird LA traffic, and the crazy fans who somehow found their hotel.

It wasn’t long before Nick fell asleep mid-sentence, sprawled out on the floor with a blanket over his head. Chris and Charlie eventually followed, both of them dozing off on the couch, but Matt and I stayed awake a little longer, just enjoying the quiet moment together.

“Glad to be home?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“More than you know,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in our own little world, before finally falling asleep next to each other. It felt good to have everyone back where they belonged.

The next morning, we all woke up surprisingly early despite how late we’d stayed up. After a quick clean-up of the chaos from the night before, the boys suggested we head over to their house to make breakfast.

Charlie and I piled into Matt’s car while Nick and Chris took their own. When we arrived at the triplets�� house, Mary Lou greeted us warmly at the door. “You kids are up early! Breakfast in the kitchen?”

“You know it, Mom,” Chris said, already heading toward the cabinets to grab ingredients.

The boys quickly took over the kitchen, with Matt pulling me along to help him with pancakes while Charlie worked on cutting fruit with Nick. Chris took charge of eggs, somehow managing not to burn them while also cracking jokes that had everyone laughing.

As we worked, Mary Lou wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand. “So, I was looking at some. properties—”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Matt and Chris simultaneously cut her off.

“Mom, did you see the crazy game last night?” Matt interjected, not missing a beat as he flipped a pancake.

“Yeah, I told you it was wild!” Chris chimed in, loudly stirring eggs like his life depended on it. “Absolutely insane. Overtime was ridiculous.”

The sudden shift in conversation was seamless, so much so that it didn’t even register in my or Charlie’s heads. Charlie glanced at me and raised an eyebrow, but we were too busy laughing at Nick’s attempt to steal fruit off the cutting board to really think about it.

Mary Lou chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You boys never let me finish a thought,” she said, retreating back to the living room.

The rest of breakfast was loud and fun, everyone eating in the dining room and teasing each other over who made what. Charlie and Nick argued over whose contribution was better—her fruit salad or his toast—while Chris kept stealing bites from everyone’s plates.

“Matt, tell your brother to get his own food,” I said, smacking Chris’s hand away from my plate.

“Chris, get your own food,” Matt repeated lazily, but he didn’t bother looking up from his plate as he piled on more syrup.

“Wow, thanks,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“You’re welcome, babe,” Matt said with a small smirk, earning an exaggerated groan from Nick.

After breakfast, we all lingered at the table, laughing and reminiscing about old stories from high school. The comment from Mary Lou didn’t even cross my mind again. For now, it was just another perfect morning with everyone together.

After breakfast, the chaos in the kitchen finally settled, and we all migrated to the living room. Chris was the first to dive onto the oversized sectional, claiming a corner as he pulled a massive fluffy blanket from the back of the couch. “Charlie, you’re freezing; come here,” he called casually, holding up the edge of the blanket as an invitation.

Charlie smirked but didn’t hesitate, settling on top of him as she tucked her feet under the blanket. “You better share,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“I literally just said you could have some!” Chris shot back, rolling his eyes.

Nick walked in behind them, arms full of snacks he’d grabbed from the kitchen. He flopped down on the opposite corner of the couch and whistled for Trevor, their dog, who came trotting over immediately. Nick draped a smaller blanket over himself and Trevor. “Look at this,” he said, scratching behind Trevor’s ears. “Man’s best friend for life right here.”

“Trevor’s only sitting with you because you have food,” Chris teased.

“False,” Nick shot back. “He loves me.”

Matt walked in last, his usual cool, slow pace. He carried a fleece blanket under one arm and handed me another before he climbed onto the couch. He sat against the arm of it, stretching his legs out vertically, and gestured for me to sit between him. 

I grinned and eagerly crawl between his legs and lean against him; my back flush against his chest. He reaches over me and pulls the blanket over the both of us  keeping me warm in the cold winter air.

After we all collectively decide on a movie, I nussle back into Matt and focus on paying attention. 

Halfway through the movie, I feel his hand creep around my inner thigh. It was light touches but they sent electric jolts through my body, especially as his hands started caressing up and down my leg, moving further up my bare flesh with each stroke.

Matt was normally a very touchy person, it was his love language. Whenever anything remotely went wrong the first thing he wanted to do was to touch me in any way he could. He often touches me subconsciously, just to feel close to me.

But there's no doubt in my mind he knew exactly what he was doing when his knuckles grazed my clothed slit before moving back down my thigh. 

Heat pools in my core at the gentle touch and I sigh, letting my head fall into the crook of his neck. I feel him smirk against my neck and I shift your hips against him purposefully. 

Two can play that game. 

Now it's my turn to smirk when I feel the length of him harden underneath me. I bite back a whimper when he brings his finger underneath the hem of my sweatpants and moves my panties to the side. 

His cock twitches against my ass when he parts my soaking folds using his middle finger and my nipples pinch under my shirt at the sensation.

My eyes widen when I realize that I'm still in the living room with all my friends. Luckily everyone seemed to be focused on the movie plus the lights were off and I had the blanket over us. Regardless, I didn’t want to risk being caught. Especially by his brothers.

I whisper into his neck “Matt, we can’t..” I drift off at the feeling of his finger returning to the place I want it most “..people are here, your parents are hom-” 

I interrupt myself, gasping lightly and squeezing my thighs together as he moves his fingers slowly up towards my swollen bundle of nerves.

Matt’s voice comes out raspy and dripping with allure 

“then I guess you’ll have to be quiet,” he pauses and adds pressure to my clit causing me to squirm in his lap “You can do that for me- yeah?”

I nod frantically and grind my hips against his hand, desperate for some friction. He laughs quietly to himself but obeys. 

He starts off slow, circling and adding just enough pressure to tease me. I whine softly and push my hips against his clothed groin, a silent plea for more. 

He lets out a sigh at the friction and brings his hand off my clit and to my entrance.

Without warning, he plunges two whole fingers inside me at once. A moan comes slipping out of my mouth but I quickly cover it with a cough when Nick looks in my direction. I give him a tense smile and he smiles back and turns back to the screen.

Matt’s fingers start moving and my walls clench around him tightly, earning a quiet groan from him.

I almost lose your mind when his thumb comes up, resuming the slow circles at my clit while continuing to thrust in and out of me with his long fingers.

His fingers curve inside me; hitting the soft spot that made me see stars. I lean back further into him, arching my back, and moan quietly into his neck.

“Yes right there Matt” I bite your lip to try and keep quiet.

He picks up his pace, making harder circles at my clit and plunging his fingers so deep and fast inside me that my body jolted slightly with each thrust of his hand. 

My body felt tingly with pleasure and my mind was someplace else where only he existed. 

I was slowly coming undone from the touch of him and I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. My walls were pulsating around his fingers and I was approaching my climax quickly.

Between the feeling of his cock poking me from behind and his fingers working their magic in the front, I was so lost in sensation and my orgasm approached faster than I expected.

His name falls so very quietly from my lips in a string of pretty moans as the knot in my stomach snaps. I release around his fingers. 

Matt brings his other hand and wraps it around my mouth quickly, muffling the moans that I so desperately needed to let out. 

Luckily no one seemed to notice or turn their head but you could’ve sworn I saw Charlie smirk out of the corner of my eye.

Nonetheless, he continues to thrust his fingers into me at a slower pace, letting me ride out my high. 

Once I had floated down from my ecstasy, I reached for his dick behind me but he stopped me midway. I look back at him, a confused look washed over my flushed face.

“What about you?” I ask, voice just barely over a whisper.

“Shh,'' he soothes me, pushing my hand back to my lap, pulling me further into him, and holding me tight. “I get all I need from pleasing you” 

I had almost forgotten. 

Matt was the type of guy who enjoyed giving more than receiving. When he pleases me it's not because he’s looking for something in return, it's because seeing me unravel beneath his touch and moan out his name with such desire was way better than any orgasm he could ever endure.

I lean back and kiss his neck with gentleness “tonight you’re gonna be the one having to be quiet” 

He laughs softly “Is that so?”

I tilt my head up at him and grin “oh yeah” He places a kiss on my nose and we both face back to the movie. 

And even though neither of us knew what's going on, being next to each other was enough for the both of us. 

My post-orgasm hit me like a brick and I drift off into sleep, cuddling into Matt’s chest as he wraps his arms around me, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders. 

Tag -

@namelesssav @christmastreecake @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88 @izzylovesmatt @tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @christophersstar @mattscore @whoisthisdiva1

editor- @ch0llies

[481mclarg]

Drunk together. | LN4

★ Let's get drunk together so I can kiss you and blame it on the vodka.

FANFIC + SMAU « Eng & Esp »

Lando Norris x Male!Oc Former Rider

« K » To make up for the lack of SM in the previous chapters, this one has no narration at all. Just people being silly on Twitter. Just me spreading my Sacha Fenestraz love & CABJ agenda.

Warnings: suggest content - jokes.

★ Chapters: One. | Two. | Three. | Four. | Five. | Six. | Seven. | Eight. ★

23 Nov. 2025

F1 gossip @/f1gossipqueen

Post Las Vegas

lana🐎: where's the guy that always went clubbing with him?😿

abril🫧: HE'S ALONE NOW ?? AFTER THE ZANDVOORT PHOTOS ????? THEY BROKE UP !?!?!??!!?

ana³³: HUH WHAT PHOTOS ????

abril🫧: they were seen together in a cafe, but after that, I don't think they were seen together again 😔 it's from August/September

F1 gossip: It is rumored that they met in December 2024 and had some kind of relationship all the winter break, but since August 2025 they were NEVER seen together again

ice🧡 @/kimiraikkonenswife

we spent a whole year looking other way, ignoring Lando's relationship. but we started talking about them when they broke up😭😭

lottie ³³ @/maxpurrstappen

Ok but who's the guy everyone talks about??? Who was Lando dating???

dani🕊: moto3 champion, Ezequiel Torres. Retired due to leg injury

bill⁴ ⁸¹: can't blame Lando for dating this guy. he's hot

lottie ³³: Where they really dating ?? Is there any proof?

zaina¹⁶: they seemed pretty close to me

lyna⁵🇧🇷: dispatch ahh photo

SOL⁴ @/landolive

A MECHANIC Lando was won over by awful-cheesy-gringe-dirty pick up lines

marr★: "if being pretty were a sin you would not have forgiveness from God" -Phrases that Ezequiel probably said

seb³⁷: I wish I were a firefighter so I could hold your hose, and he fell in love

kal¹⁶ @/luvrrari

bueno pero pasen ig del mecánico🫦

dylan³⁷ 🇸🇪 @/mrtorres

PLEASE @/LandoNorris PLEASE listen to me carefully. make him your wag. I miss seeing him on the paddock with his Boca shirts

luz⁴³³: lando- lando bostero ?

dylan³⁷ 🇸🇪: 🫦🫦🫦

rin @/rinnnbear

I don't forget that Sacha was the one who introduced Lando and Ezequiel😭😭🫶

sakura☆: He created the couple, he can bring it back together🙏

10 Dec. 2025

(E: I am at his door.

E: Sacha

E: I'm going to throw up

S: Grown up, come on

S: You can do it, wild beast, tiger, lion, animal

S: 30 wasted years/30 years in vain)

481MCLARG | 18 . 01 . 2025 | CORREGIDO

(istg I do my best trying to translate or adapt the slangs to English). * Bostero is what Boca/CABJ fans are called.

[cheolaholic]

SNEAK PEEK 👀 RoL (12)

a/n; small little peek of the upcoming chapter !! read it now on my patreon, or you can wait til 18th Jan 2025 KST for it to be released here & ao3 ~ ヾ(•ω•`)o

You were on a video call with Aki as you told her your plans of visiting Japan during fall break. Her eyes lit up immediately you thought light would eventually shine through them. “Really!? You’re gonna be flying in?”

Aki always said she has a black cat personality. But, you’d like to think she’s more of a golden retriever. “Yeah, we’re thinking of flying in next week.”

“Whoa. We? Are your parents joining? Also, did you move places? Thank God, but please don’t tell me it’s in another shady neighbourhood.”

“Whoa, you,” you laughed, “One question at a time, girlie. I’m flying in with my friends. Yeah, I moved places and no, it’s not in a shady neighbourhood. I’m actually sharing a place with –”

“Whoa, there. You’re sharing a place with someone? Oh my God, is this a character development?”

A knock is heard at your door and it is pushed open, “Hey, pup, Mingyu is asking –”

His words die in his throat as he sees Aki on the screen of your laptop.

Aki blinks once, then twice.

“Is that… Is that Choi Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol snaps out of his frozen state a few seconds later, snorting when he approaches you. “Well, if it isn’t Kim Aki. I do not miss you one bit.”

Aki scoffs, rolling her eyes as she flips him off. “Likewise, you asshole. But, I do miss beating your ass. In fact, I might do that when I see you in the flesh!”

And thus, it was as if the years of Seungcheol’s absence never happened. The trio dynamic remained the same – Seungcheol and Aki bickering as usual, you being the diffuser. “Okay, enough of you two bickering,” you roll your eyes, “What is it about Gyu?”

“Ah, right. Gyu wants to know if you want to book a hotel room or an airbnb,” Seungcheol responds, handing you his phone to show you the multiple screenshots of hotels and airbnbs Mingyu had sent. “An airbnb would be cheaper since we’ll split the cost, but… I’m not sure you’d want to stay in a house with four men. Especially if they’re Wonwoo and Mingyu.”

“Wonwoo and Mingyu?” Aki pipes in, “You mean the famous streamer and model?”

“It’s a long story, honestly… I’ll tell you all about it when we meet. This is something we need to have brunch over.”

“Yeah, given their… hormonal nature, I don’t think you’d wanna hear them if we share a living space.”

“What about Vernon?”

“He sleeps like a log. Literally. There was one time we rented a homestay with a karaoke system, Wonwoo and Mingyu were singing to some Adele song; you know how high notes that woman can go and… super high notes ain’t really their thing. Bro slept through the entire thing.”

“So… if WonGyu were to have a threesome, an orgy… He just sleeps through it..?”

Aki snorts through the skin, “Oh, honey, there are people who can sleep through a lot of things. I dated this one guy who slept through an entire frat party!”

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head, “Sounds like something Vernon would do.”

“I don’t understand,” Aki says, cocking her head to the side, “Why can’t she stay with me? My parents are more than happy to have her over.”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, “Listen here, you prick. You’ve had her for the past five or six years. Which I do appreciate that you’ve been there and looked out for her. But, this time, she’s mine to spend time with.”

A knowing smirk tugs at Aki’s lips when she hears the way he says ‘mine’. She raises her hands up in mock surrender, “Alright~ She’s all yours. My suggestion is those three boys can rent an airbnb together or yall can share two hotel rooms. ___ can have one room while you boys share one; or two considering that streamer model duo.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad…”

“Or, you can share a room with Seungcheol.”

You looked at Aki as though a pair of dog ears had grown out of her head. “Look, by all means I am not making this sound like you are at fault. But, considering the whole stalking and assault incident, I’d say rooming with Seungcheol would be the safer option.”

“But –”

“Look, I know everyone out there makes Japan out to be this country with a super low crime rate; which is true, but when crimes do happen, it goes from one to a hundred just like that.”

Aki snaps her fingers to emphasize her point. She also heaves out a sigh, “And, the stalking cases in Japan are crazy, too… I-I just want you to be safe, ___. Plus, that man beside you is a boxer; not professional but he’s a trained boxer!”

You turn to look up at Seungcheol who seems to catch on to your upcoming question, “I’m okay with it, pup. The question is, are you okay with that arrangement?”

You’re quiet for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons (although there aren’t many cons). “Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

[seoul-bros]

Jikook Week 61 Complete ✔️ (04/02 - 11/02/2025)

Jikook have finalized their 61st week in the military and it's time to look back at this week in 2022. It was an extremely complicated year for BTS. They knew well in advance that military service was coming and in the first six months of the year, continuing as if it was business as usual didn't sit right with them, as I think Namjoon and Jimin expressed very well in the Festa dinner.

They were all under a lot of pressure and I suspect that the company did very little to relieve that and may have even added to it especially for Jungkook who had been marked for glory since their debut.

"Jungkook wasn't very confident but I had a strong conviction that he had a lot of potential" Bang PD on BTS Monuments

BTS were on an extended break after their intense schedule in the US at the end of 2021. Jimin was admitted to hospital on 30/01 suffering from the double whammy of acute appendicitis and COVID 19 and was operated on the next day.

During his recovery period he sent various Weverse messages to reassure the fans including these on 03/02 (SK time) and on 05/02 the day he was discharged.

He spent the next few days resting at home. In the early hours of 09/02 (in SK) he watched The Notebook for the seventh time (still don't get what he sees in that movie - Nicholas Spark does absolutely nothing for me) and then apparently kept on going with another movie (Weverse message). Wouldn't it be perfect if that film turned out to be Like Crazy (getting inspiration for FACE even then).

The next evening after various exchanges with ARMY on Weverse he posted a cryptic, "I'm happy".

So it was rest and recovery all the way for Jimin but what was Jungkook up to this week? These were the heady days when JK was prolific on Instagram and his posts came in fast succession almost like a flow of consciousness.

As infant ARMY, everything was fascinating and everything had to be pored over and reflected on in great detail. Even so, I've never really come to any firm conclusions about what was going on - except JK was going through something and the way he processed it was, unsurprisingly, through music.

On 03/02, JK posted his cover of Hate Everything

Had a perfect picture in my head, With you in the most beautiful dress I look happy as ever How did I let you go again?

Now I'm standing alone in the rain. Like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time. But I know this time it's real.

Hate that I'm singing this song. I hate that I have to be strong. Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else Hate everything. Just hate everything. Right now

Then 05/02 he posted this dance video to these lyrics of Teyana Taylor's Bare Wit Me

On 06/02 he posted three sound clips on Instagram.

Roses by Finn Askey - "Hey, Rose I bought you five roses, won't you come to my show? Show you how to live life, yeah, you know you're fucking gold Give you all my time if you wanna take it slow Your soul is lovely, uh"

2. Too many feelings by Ruel - "I let out too many feelings, shit, I should've kept in. Probably should've left 'em all unsaid. Didn't wanna scare you, just wanted to be near you. Wanted you to hear what's in my head You know, I'll take it back if , You take me back too, too"

3. Audrey Nuna - Space - "Don't make me the one to say it Don't make me the one to say it 'cause I can't come down I'm only human now I just need some Space, space, space"

On 07/02 he posted Even Days by 03ohn - "Any of the days, any of the words, Even the day we said goodbye"

So he was posting a slew of break up songs 💔 one after another with regret combined with inevitability as the central theme i.e. "I love you but I'm feeling the pressure and I'm not sure I can be the lover that you want me to be".

On 08/02 he posted Never Change by Jeremy Passion with the lyrics "There is a place where both of us belong, But as of now we just have to be strong"

and he ended the week with the decidedly more upbeat Takes Two by Fiji Blue on 09/02 and the lyrics, 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two"

Could this outpouring be related to jikook? Well if you believe they are together and have been for many years you could certainly ask yourself that question.

All long term relationships have their ups and downs and that is without having to deal with the spotlight of global superstardom, a kpop idol culture which requires stars to "appear permanently available" to their fans and the don't ask, don't tell approach to same sex relationships in SK. We know that Jimin was struggling at the time so perhaps it isn't too far fetched to think that Jungkook would also be struggling to help or to cope.

All I can say is that the next time we saw them together during the Seoul Permission to Dance concerts and in the BTS Monuments scenes filmed on the 13/03/2022 (according to Jimin's fridge) they appeared as united as ever.

So even if this was about them by mid March 2022 they had come to some agreement on how to move forward - together.

Post Date: 11/02/2025

[avatar-anna]

Family Vacation

buckle up, it's a long one!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader

For reference, here are all the kids' ages:

Simone: 12 Collette: 9 Maeve and Julian: 8 Geneva: 4 Natalia: 3

2025

“All right, here we go. Simone?”

“Here.”

“Colette?”

“She’s helping GiGi put her shoes on upstairs,” Simone replied, standing next to Harry by the front door of the house. She was dressed comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry's old crew necks, a pair of leather sneakers on her feet. He'd tried to talk her into a different pair of shoes for the flight, but she was going through a sneaker phase at the moment and wouldn't hear it.

Harry nodded at his oldest child and continued. “Great. Twins?”

There was no answer. Looking up and down the front hall of the house, Harry wondered where two out of his five children were. “Maeve? Jules? Come on, we’re going to be late!”

There was more silence, and Harry silently worried about what his most troublemaking children were up to. But after a minute, he heard the sound of feet running around upstairs, and a few seconds later, the twins bounding down the staircase headed for Harry and Simone. Harry looked them over to make sure they were dressed and ready to go. They were, but had switched shoes again—Julian in his sister’s sparkly pink ones and Marve in his plain black sneakers. Neither Harry nor Y/n knew why they switched their shoes, and sometimes their clothes. It was always a toss up when they came down the stairs dressed for school. Sometimes Jules and Maeve were in their own clothes, sometimes they weren’t, and sometimes they were in some sort of combination. After the first couple times it happened, Harry and Y/n stopped questioning it; as long as they were fully dressed and out the door for school on time, it didn’t really matter to them.

Not even batting an eye at the twins’ shoe switch, he asked them, “Ready?”

“Ready!” they said together, following their older sister out of the house and into the car.

Harry waited for his three remaining children, smiling when Colette and Geneva skipped down the stairs together. GiGi ran over to him and leapt into his arms, and Harry caught her, kissing her cheek and fixing the little hat she was wearing. Five down, one to go.

"Mama! You ready to go?"

"Almost!"

"We're gonna be late!"

"Saying that doesn't make me go any faster!" Y/n called back.

Harry shook his head at his wife, but waited for her patiently by the door all the same, double checking in his head that they had everything in the car—suitcases, iPads, sunblock, passports, chargers, etc. GiGi played with his hair and babbled in his ear while Collette ran off to the car with the rest of the family, curly hair bouncing with each step.

After a couple minutes, Y/n came down the stairs with Natalia in her arms, a tiny backpack resembling a giraffe on his youngest daughter's back. Y/n looked a little frazzled as she went out the door, but Harry didn't comment on it, just took the diaper bag from her and locked up the house once everyone was outside.

"I just spent the last twenty minutes trying to get her into the pull-up," Y/n explained.

"Does she really need it? She wears underwear now."

Y/n looked at him. "Do you want to deal with an accident thousands of feet up in the air?"

"Good point."

They got in the car in silence, and Harry did one last headcount before starting the car. "Does everyone have everything?" Y/n asked one more time, which meant Collette was unbuckling and running back into the house for something, Julian not far behind.

"Are we really doing this?" he muttered to her.

"We're really doing this," she murmured back.

"God help us."

The drive to the airport was full of chatter, the way it always was when Harry drove all six of his children somewhere. Maeve and Julian were off in their own little world, GiGi was singing along to what she thought were the words to the song on the radio, Colette was talking about the science project Y/n helped her finish from the window seat behind him, and Simone was sitting in the backseat with… Daniel, the boy she had asked to invite a couple weeks ago.

Harry remembered the night his daughter came into his and Y/n’s room as the two of them were getting ready for bed with utmost clarity, remembered how Simone switched from foot to foot and didn’t meet either of them in the eye as she asked if she could bring a friend on their family vacation. Of course, Harry told her, not sure why she was acting so nervous. Her friend Melanie was always welcome to join them on their family outings.

But Y/n knew better, as she always did when it came to things like this. She hardly even reacted when Simone clarified that it wasn’t Melanie, but a different friend. Daniel.

Harry immediately wanted to say no once he realized why his daughter was acting so shy about asking if Daniel could come, but his wife subtly pinched his side to keep him quiet while she told Simone yes and that she would call Daniel’s mother in the morning to make sure it was okay. Harry kept his cool while Simone thanked him and Y/n, kissing each of them on the cheek before leaving their bedroom with a wish goodnight over her shoulder. The second Y/n heard the door to her oldest daughter’s room shut with a soft click, she picked up a throw pillow off their bed and whacked him with it.

“Ouch! What the hell was that for?” he asked, giving his wife an incredulous look at her actions.

“You better be on your best behavior,” was all she said, not apologizing for her pillow attack.

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to pretend like he wasn’t freaking out on the inside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently, getting under the covers of their bed after turning the lamp by their bed off.

Y/n turned it back on, not believing him for a second. “I mean it, Harry,” she said, using the same stern voice she often reserved for their kids. Crawling over to him so that she was perched on top of him with her legs on either side of his waist, she poked him in the chest. “Be-have.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he tried to reason, but he already felt resentment bubbling in the pit of his stomach towards this Daniel person. When his wife gave him a look that told him she still wasn’t convinced, he sighed. “I’m not ready for the boys, or the girls,” he added as an afterthought. Simone never talked about it, but Harry and Y/n always kept an open mind about such things. “She’s too young for dating.”

Y/n raised her eyes heavenward, clearly exasperated by her husband. “Harry, how old were you when you had your first kiss?”

Harry grumbled under his breath, which made Y/n grin just a little. "You're not helping."

“We're so far off from that anyway, love. He's just a friend from school. And a nice boy. I've driven him home from school a few times. He's an only child. He could use a dose of...us.”

Harry kept quiet, crossing his arms and pouting because while he knew his baby was growing up, that didn't mean he had to like it. Knowing he didn’t have any sort of argument for that, Y/n continued. “She needs friends, H. Don’t you notice how she rarely invites anyone over to the house?”

He had noticed, but she was also constantly across the street at her friend Melanie’s house. “I know that, but…She’s my baby.”

Y/n’s eyes softened. She shuffled around on the bed until she had her arms wrapped around him, her fingers as soothing as they always were as they ran through his hair. “She is, and she always will be, so be happy that your baby asked if her friend could come with us on vacation instead of sneaking out of the house to see him.”

That image did nothing to relax Harry’s troubled thoughts in the slightest. He wanted to be comforted by the memories of Simone sleeping between him and Y/n, of when she was so small and only wanted to be in Harry’s arms when they went somewhere, of first steps, first Christmas, first everything. He didn't think they were at the stage of first boy.

“Hey,” Y/n said quietly when Harry remained quiet for a few minutes. She knew her husband had a hard time seeing Simone grow up. He loved all their children equally, but his bond with their oldest daughter was a special one. In a time of uncertainty and chaos, Harry saw their daughter for the first time and she’d become a beacon of light and love. The day he became a father was the best day of his life, and he had been protecting and loving Simone ever since.

"He really is just a friend. You think I would be okay with him joining our vacation if he wasn't? She's twelve, H."

Harry sighed, pouting his lips just a little. "I know. But can you freak out a little with me so I don't feel like the only crazy parent?"

Y/n chuckled and kissed his cheek. "But who would reason with you? Remind you about the beautiful resort we're staying at," she said, planting another kiss, this one closer to his ear. "And the master bedroom that's on a whole separate floor from the other rooms in the suite." Another kiss. "All the alone time we'll have once everyone is asleep."

She continued to whisper in Harry's ear about all the things she wanted to do with him once they were on vacation, one of which made his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhm."

"You mean it? We can—"

He didn't even want to say it in case he jinxed it, but it didn't seem like his wife was joking. Y/n nodded, tracing his lips with the tip of her finger. "You know I don't joke about that."

He grinned, the reaction almost involuntary. Kissing her once, twice, three times, Harry responded with, “I love you.”

There was silence as Harry and Y/n continued to kiss, long and lazy ones that made Harry nearly forget about Daniel, especially as Y/n’s leg draped over his middle and his hands moved under her sleep shirt. Nearly. “He better not try anything, or I’ll—”

“Your best behavior,” she intoned, hovering just above him as she used her stern voice again. “Think of the alone time.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you enjoy telling me what to do?”

“It gives me a rush,” Y/n said simply, pecking him on the nose. Harry flipped her over so that her back was against the mattress, his lips were just barely touching hers as he told her it was his turn to make demands.

For the next couple weeks, Harry had removed Daniel from his mind. But the time had come to drive to the address Y/n had given him when they got in the car. He hadn’t paid much attention to where each of his children were sitting until he waved at Daniel, then raised his brows slightly as he climbed into the back row to join Simone. He wasn’t a huge fan of that, but then Geneva accused him of not singing along to the song that was playing, and because he could never turn down singing with his daughter, his mind was temporarily occupied.

That didn’t stop his eyes from flicking to the rearview mirror every few minutes to check up on Simone and her friend. He eyed the blonde hair that came down to the boy’s shoulders, the leather cord necklace that peeked out from under his shirt, the warm tan he had from spending time in the sun. Was this her type? Harry thought. She’s too young to have a type. She’s too young for all of this—

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Harry focused back on the road in front of him, making the proper turns that would take him to a more secluded parking lot of the international airport. Harry waited until he parked the car to answer Maeve’s question, helping Valen out of her car seat and resting her on his hip. “The airport, peanut. We're going on our vacation, remember?”

Harry and Y/n didn't take the kids on proper vacations very often. It was hard for the whole family to be in one public place together without being noticed, and it was even harder now ever since the documentary came out and their family was brought into the limelight. People relentlessly tried to get pictures of Harry with any one of the kids, which only pushed them to go out even less or take even more extreme measures to ensure no one knew where they were.

But they all still deserved a vacation. Y/n and Harry researched and researched until they found the right place—somewhere remote enough that they could be left alone, but big enough to fit their family and had the facilities to ensure privacy. And somewhere fun. Everyone needed to have fun.

So they decided on a fancy island resort. There was plenty of activities for the kids, a big villa that accommodated their big family, and a spa for Y/n to relax. In a lot of ways, Harry wanted this to be the honeymoon he and Y/n never got to have. They would be strapped down with six, now seven, kids for most of the time, but they'd be watching them in a very nice resort.

Harry did another headcount when they got to the airport to make sure he had all of his kids and Daniel, then led them all to where a security guard was waiting to take escort them to the airport lounge where they would wait to take off, with Y/n rounding out the back so no one got left behind. As they came into the airport, in public where everyone could see them, Harry looked behind him for Julian, knowing he didn’t love having so many sets of eyes on him. As was the side effect of being their father, all of the Styles children were used to or at least familiar with being photographed in public places or seeing large crowds of people in the most mundane of places. However, Jules was very shy and sometimes had a hard time with the shouting and the phones pointed in his direction.

Harry turned back with Geneva still in his arms to take Julian’s hand. At only four years old, Harry and Y/n tried to keep her and Natalia from having their picture taken the most. They’d done it with all of their children when they were babies, gradually letting them get used to all of the craziness. The documentary sped things up a bit, but outside of the kids' small appearances, Harry and Y/n made sure they were hardly seen in public. It was why Geneva was wearing her little knit hat with daisies on it, the brim wide enough to shield her face should anyone try to nab a picture of the four year old. Y/n pushed Natalia in a stroller with the hood extended low over her face so all one could really see was her little legs.

To Harry’s surprise, Jules was holding the hand of his oldest sister. It wasn’t shocking that Simone was holding her little brother’s hand in a situation like this, she often did so with one or two of her siblings when they went out together. But today she was with a friend, with Daniel. Harry figured she would want to just hang out with him, but there Jules was, laughing at something Simone’s friend had said, not at all bothered by the people pointing their phones in their direction. Smiling, Harry reached out a hand for Maeve to take, and she happily obliged, Colette falling in line next to her.

When they finally got settled in the lounge, there was still a good amount of time before takeoff. The twins were on one side of him and Colette next to them, Simone and Daniel on his other side, and GiGi bouncing up and down in his lap. Julian and Maeve were off in their own little world again, only this time they took Colette with them as they played with a couple of the toys Harry packed for them in a backpack. Y/n was gone, having taken Natalia for one last bathroom trip before they boarded the plane

Trying to heed his wife’s instructions, Harry did his best not to eavesdrop on Simone and Daniel’s conversation, focusing on Geneva, who was more than happy to have all of her father’s attention. She squished his cheeks with her hands, pushing them up and down into various frowns and smiles.

Y/n came back just as Collette began to bicker with the twins. "Harry can you," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the three kids.

"Yep. On it."

By the time he settled the argument, it was time to board. The whole family was up and shuffling toward the gate, Harry leading everyone so he could hand over boarding passes to the woman waiting for them. "Have a wonderful flight, Mr. Styles," she said warmly, smiling at each child as they walked past.

Thankfully, they boarded before everyone else, which gave Y/n and Harry time to get all their kids settled in their seats. "Alright, change of plans. Maeve, sit with Collette, Jules you're with—"

"Daddy!"

"O...Kay. JuJu's sitting with Daddy. Simone and Daniel, you'll sit across from me and Natalia. Daddy, you got Geneva?"

"Yep. Come here, peanut."

Snacks and iPads were passed out, and everyone was quietly waiting for takeoff. At first, Harry and Y/n used to feel bad about using technology to get their kids to quiet down, but now that they were six against two they did whatever they could.

"You have a wonderful family."

Harry was immediately on high alert. He was always hyper aware of strangers around his kids, but especially with Geneva and Natalia. They were so young, they didn't deserve strangers getting in their faces and all that.

But he supposed that having six kids, plus an extra, quietly entertaining themselves on a nonstop flight was something to be proud of. Looking up from where he'd been opening a pouch for Julian, Harry gave a close-lipped smile at the flight attendant who'd spoken. She looked about a few years older than Harry and Y/n, and if she recognized Harry, she didn't let on.

"Thank you. It's our first big vacation."

"That's so fun! It must be hard to travel with all these little ones on your own."

"Um..." Harry wasn't sure what the woman was insinuating. He looked across the aisle, but Y/n was completely occupied with Natalia. Her smile seemed sincere, though, so Harry just politely corrected her. "I'm married, actually."

"Oh! Sorry, I don't know why I—Gosh," she stuttered, a blush on her cheeks. "Sorry. Well, um, can I get you anything?"

"Juice!" Geneva piped in from Harry's left.

Harry gave his daughter a look and said, "How do we ask for things nicely?"

"Can I have some juice please?"

The flight attendant smiled and promised to be back in a moment, then left their section.

"It must be so hard to travel with all these little ones on your own," Y/n said, raising the pitch of her voice. She was still looking at Natalia, but clearly, she'd heard the whole exchange.

"Oh hush. She was just being nice," Harry chided.

Harry never realized how exhausting vacations could be. Between swimming under the sun all day and keeping an eye on seven kids, he crashed on the bed each night completely wiped out. And even though Harry and Y/n were an entire floor above the kids, they could still hear the giggles as Simone, Collette, the twins, and Daniel stayed up past their bedtime playing games. It was fun, it really was, but it was no honeymoon.

He'd have about a thousand pictures by the end of it all, though.

"Daddy, I want a lemonade!"

"Gi, I just asked you if you wanted anything from the restaurant," Harry said, doing his best to give her a stern look.

They were having a relaxing day at the resort's pool. Yesterday they went on a boat and went all around the island, and before that was water sports, and the day before that was—well, today they were just relaxing. The hotel had reserved a cabana that was pretty well removed from the other ones, giving them a bit of privacy, though other guests had kept their distance for the most part.

“Dad, we can take GiGi to get a lemonade. We wanted snacks anyway,” Simone said. At the word “snacks,” both Geneva up, looking to their father for approval.

Harry wanted to say yes, but he didn’t like any of his kids walking around on their own. At twelve, Simone and her friend were more than capable of going to the restaurant on the other side of the pool and coming right back, but there was always a chance of people following or coming up to her, and she thought the idea of walking around with a security guard was embarrassing, but it was usually the only way Harry and Y/n allowed her to go off on her own when they did things like this.

“Erm…You’d have to take Chris with you,” he finally said, nodding to the security guard who was currently sitting next to Natalia and seemed very interested in the water wings the youngest Styles was showing him. Chris was their family bodyguard and had become part of the family by this point. He was patient with the kids and played with them on occasion, but took his job seriously.

Simone didn’t answer right away. She looked at Daniel first, a question in her eyes. Harry knew it couldn’t be easy having to be tailed by a security guard all the time, especially when she seemed to already have a hard time making friends. So when Daniel just shrugged and said he didn’t mind, Harry actually felt a little relieved and hoped that this friendship would stick. Perhaps Daniel was all right after all.

Fishing out cash from his wallet, Harry passed it off to Simone and told her to come straight back and hold GiGi’s hand the whole time. Simone looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at her father’s grave tone, but she refrained and took the money and her sister’s hand. When they were gone, Harry sat back and sighed. His eyes flitted over the pool for a moment as he searched for his wife.

She was in the pool with Maeve and Julian, tossing them up and letting them splash in the shallower end. Harry cleared his throat and slipped on his sunglasses, trying not to stare too obviously.

Y/n wasn't even doing anything. But she just...she never failed to make his heart pound. And the swimsuit she wore wasn't helping. Her body had changed over the years, the same way his had, but he still thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and right now was no different.

Harry was debating joining his wife and kids in the pool or staying until Simone and the rest of his kids came back with Chris. But that decision was made for him when he saw her help the twins out of the pool.

"They put umbrellas in our drinks!"

Harry looked the other way and saw Geneva with a kids cup in her hand, a small cocktail umbrella sticking out of it. Simone and Daniel had their own drinks, and funnily enough, Chris had two.

"I want one!"

"Me too!"

Before Harry could say anything, Chris handed the two drinks over to the twins, who had walked up to the cabana with Y/n. Harry stood up and offered his spot up so all the kids could sit with their drinks without the risk of spilling them. He went over to Y/n, careful not to put his hands on her in front of the kids.

"You were staring," she murmured.

"Was not."

"You were."

Harry leaned forward and kissed the back of her head. "You would've had to be staring at me to notice."

"Mom, can Daniel and I go to the kids club? They have a ping pong table, and we wanted to play."

At the mention of the kids club, Simone's siblings voiced their desire to go too, but Harry could see the look on his oldest daughter's face. She'd been really great about hanging out with her younger siblings, but she deserved to play on her own with her friend.

"Sure, bug. Do you have your phone?"

Simone nodded, then squeezed Harry tight before running off with Daniel. His heart clenched as they left, but there were five other kids all vying for his attention. "Let's go to the water slide, shall we?"

Cheers went around the cabana. As they were all putting their cups down, Y/n came up behind Harry and squeezed his hand. "That was nice of you."

"Chris will check on them in a few minutes," was all he said.

"You're a good dad," she said, pinching his hip affectionately.

"You think so?"

"The best. "I wish we could sneak away so you could be the best husband for a little bit," she mumbled, kissing his bare shoulder.

"We'll have our moment," Harry assured.

"It would be even harder with another baby, you know that right?"

"Mm. We've always managed."

Y/n didn't say anything in reply, but Harry couldn't tell if it was because she didn't have an answer or because Geneva was poking her leg to get her attention.

"Can we go now?"

Conversation cut short, Harry and Y/n took the hands of their little ones and walked toward the waterslide.

"I'm so tired."

"I know."

"And sunburned."

"I know."

"It literally hurts to have my eyes open. I—What are you doing?"

"Shh," Y/n said, her legs on either side of Harry's lower back. "I don't have massage oil or candles, but I have aloe vera. Let me help you."

Harry couldn't have protested even if he wanted to. They'd spent the entire day at the beach, rounding the evening out with a quiet dinner courtesy of room service. All the kids were fast asleep, practically dead to the world, as soon as their pajamas were on, a first since they arrived a few days ago.

Mumbling some kind of assent, he let Y/n give him a massage. The aloe vera was cold on his back, her hands gentle but thorough as she rubbed in the gel and worked on the muscles in his shoulders and worked her way down. Harry groaned, sinking deeper into the bed as she began to apply more pressure.

"You've been such a good Daddy to the kids all week, hm?" she murmured in his ear, thumbs pressing into the muscles in his shoulders. "Planned this whole trip for us, work so hard so we can go to beautiful places like this, been so patient. Thought you deserved something nice."

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n to call Harry "daddy." When they were around the kids, they referred to each other almost exclusively as "mom" or "dad" or something to that effect. They were parents, it was part of their identity, and it certainly wasn't out of the ordinary. Daddy wasn't something that was inherently sexual to them, not when it was a word their children used regularly.

Though the gentle lilt of Y/n's voice and her hands on his back definitely had him turning his head to the side to peek an eye at her.

"Yeah?"

She nodded, still working out all the knots in his back. "Mmhm. So close your eyes. I'm gonna paint a nice picture for us."

Harry did as she said, focusing on her hands and voice.

"Imagine we're...twenty-two years old," Y/n said. "And...we just came back from the courthouse. The boys have finally left us alone for the evening."

The night they got married. They had to sneak out of their hotel rooms to do it, but Harry would do it all again in a heartbeat. "Mm. That was a good night."

"Yep. But this time, instead of putting Simone down and going to bed, we're packing for a trip. Our honeymoon. You planned the whole thing. Your mom agreed to watch Simone for a few days, there happened to be a break in the tour, and everything just fell into place so we could celebrate. Just you and me."

Y/n knew what Harry wanted this trip to be for them. She knew he always felt guilty about the finer details of their marriage. There was just never enough time for a proper honeymoon, and by the time there was, Y/n was pregnant with Collette. There were moments on the trip where they tried to slip away, but it just wasn't possible. Harry and Y/n were more than happy to spend time with their children, but a moment alone wouldn't have hurt, either.

"So we come to this beautiful resort," she continued, working her way along the broad expanse of Harry's back. "We drink too much champagne and sleep in too late because no one is jumping on the bed before sunrise. We kiss by the infinity pool and on the balcony and on top of a mountain after we've hiked to the top."

"Just kiss?"

"Easy. I'm getting to that. Where was I?"

"The top of a mountain."

"Right. And we make love everywhere. In the infinity pool, on the balcony, in that huge hot tub in our bathroom. For those few days, we don't care about getting caught or what people will see or think or say. We're so happy to finally be married, that the only thing that matters is us," Y/n said, leaving a kiss on the back of his neck, her teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "Flip over, baby."

Harry did as she asked, grinning when his eyes landed on her. Y/n normally wore a t-shirt and shorts to bed, but tonight she was in sheer pink, her breasts practically spilling out of the flimsy material, her hair framing her shoulders. She'd changed a lot over the years, and yet she was exactly the same. She still made him feel the same way she always had.

"We're not twenty-two anymore," he said.

"No, we're not," Y/n agreed. "But I still love you."

"I love you too, Mama."

Y/n leaned down and kissed him then, her body flush against Harry's as his leg slotted between hers. Their lips were chapped from spending the last few days in the sun, but that didn't stop either of them from getting more and more intense. Harry's tongue slipped into Y/n's mouth with ease, his hands rucking up her little pink blouse insistently. She lifted her hips to get her underwear off when his hands ventured there next but was quick to slide back against him, a smile forming on her lips when he groaned.

"I'm not feeling so tired anymore," Harry breathed, one hand dipping between her legs.

They could've been quick. After being together for so long, they knew what made the other get to the finish line faster, and had perfected it when free time came in brief, spontaneous moments. But Harry didn't want quick. All the kids were fast asleep, and he didn't think any of them would be waking up for a long time after the day they had. He wanted to take his time, and it seemed Y/n did too.

"Good. For a second there I thought you were an old man at the ripe age of thirty-one."

"You're gonna regret saying that in a minute."

Harry flipped his wife over so that he was hovering over her. Y/n's grin was full of mischief as she looked him over, her gaze fixated below his waist. She loved the moments where she could just admire her husband, and this trip had been full of them. So often she was stuck in full-mom-mode that she didn't appreciate how Harry still looked like he was cut from marble. His tattoos were faded with time, but they stuck out against his newly-tanned skin, there was a little more meat on his hips than when they were kids, but Y/n honestly loved him that way more. She loved his muscly thighs and broad back and his pointed nose and high cheekbones. She loved the smile lines by his eyes and the way his stomach jutted out just a little despite the muscle. She loved the soft parts and the hard planes. She knew every detail, every secret his body held. There was not one thing she didn't know about her husband or his body, and she was in love with every inch.

Y/n had been patient, she'd been a good mom this whole trip by not dragging Harry by the drawstring of his swim trunks and leaving Chris to watch the kids for an hour, she'd waited and waited for the right moment, for this moment. A few minutes ago, she could tell Harry was in the "make love" kind of mood, but she did away with that with a few choice words. She was usually all for it, but right now she really wanted a reason for them to be exhausted. Now, all she had to do was seal the deal.

Hooking a finger around his necklace and gripping him a little tightly between her fingers, she said, "Do your worst."

"Okay. It's our last night on vacation. What was everyone's favorite part?" Harry asked from his seat at the dinner table. "Maevie, you go first."

They were having one last dinner at the resort's outdoor restaurant. Their table was on a raised deck that stood in a shallow pool. The bottom of the pool was lit, making the water a blue-green color. There were lanterns in the palm trees, a warm breeze fluttering the leaves. Everyone was in varying states of tanned and sunburned—peeled noses, harsh tan lines, red shoulders and cheeks. The whole family plus Daniel were tired from days spent running around and swimming under relentless sunlight, but they were happy too. Content to go home tomorrow knowing that everything that could be done had been.

"I liked seeing the dolphins," Maeve said.

Each person at the table said their favorite moment or activity. From the hotel water slide to going tubing behind a speedboat to a whole day dedicated to shopping, all the kids enjoyed something different from the vacation.

"I liked when we took the Jeeps all over the mountains and Mrs. Styles drove really fast!" Daniel said.

Y/n smirked at Harry from across the dinner table as she cut up Geneva's food. He always had something to say about her driving—that she was too fast, that she drove like she was in a hurry when there was no reason to, and so on. Whether that was true or not, Y/n got to put her driving skills to the test with one of their activities. She took Simone, Daniel, and Collette in her car while Harry took the younger kids, and raced over the dirt path with them. It was bumpy, dusty, and full of sharp turns, but she and the older kids had a blast.

"You know, Daniel, I can't help but agree," Y/n said.

"What was your favorite part, Dad?" Simone asked.

"I think..." he said, taking his time to answer the question. "I think just getting to spend time with all of you was my favorite part."

"That doesn't count!"

"We all had to say something!"

"Boo!"

"Yeah, boo!"

"Y/n, really?"

Y/n shrugged when Harry looked over at her exasperatedly. He knew he gave a lame, sappy answer, but it was the truth. He knew his kids would give him grief about it, but he didn't expect his own wife to boo at him.

The night ended with one final walk on the beach. The kids all skipped ahead of Harry and Y/n, who were content to trail behind them and hold hands.

"We did it," Y/n said, twining her arm around her husband's.

"We did. With no trips to the local hospital, either."

"And," she added. "Daniel was a sweetheart. I think the twins are more trouble than he is."

Harry didn't want to be okay with Daniel when the idea of him joining the family on vacation was first proposed, but he couldn't help but agree with Y/n. He was nice, and hung out with all the kids, not just Simone.

"They're gonna give us hell when they're older aren't they?" he asked, referring to Maeve and Julian, who were currently wrestling in the sand.

"Definitely." They walked a few paces in silence while Y/n rested her cheek on Harry's shoulder. He was a linen shirt that was incredibly soft, and she would definitely be wearing it to sleep tonight. Then, as they got further down the beach, she said, "You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"Spending time with all our little monkeys," she said. "I'm glad we could give this to them. A trip with the whole family that's not just traveling with you on tour, you know?"

"I do," Harry agreed, kissing the top of her head. "I think I might have to give Chris a huge Christmas bonus, though."

Y/n chuckled. "He had fun too."

More silence, more walking and listening to the kids laugh and play by the shore. Then, "Our little monkeys aren't so little anymore."

"No, they're not," Y/n said. "But when they can play together far away, I can do this."

She stopped Harry in his tracks and tipped his head down to kiss him. His lips were light against hers, careful not to get too carried away. But it was nice to kiss out in the open, something neither of them would've ever thought was possible a few years ago. Their lives were so different now.

Harry kissed her a couple more times, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on the small strip of skin where Y/n's knitted sweater didn't quite meet her shorts. She looked and felt so cozy. All he wanted to do was get their kids up to bed and—

"Eeeew!" someone shrieked, it was too dark to tell which one of their kids said it. "No kissing!"

Y/n pulled back, but Harry held her close still. "What? You mean like this?" he asked before nuzzling his wife's cheek.

That got everyone going. Simone claimed Harry and Y/n were embarrassing her, Collette told them to stop because kissing was gross, and Maeve and Julian went straight for the tackle, going for Harry's legs until he playfully fell over. Once he was down, Natalia and Geneva joined their brother and sister.

If someone had told a twenty-two-year-old Harry that not only did he have six happy and healthy kids with the love of his life, but that he could hold his wife's hand and kiss her on the beach and play-wrestle with his kids without worrying who might see, he wouldn't have believed them. Hell, he wouldn't have believed them just a few years ago. But things were different now, things were good. Perfect, some might say.

And Harry definitely had to remind himself of that when one of his kids accidentally had him inhaling a mouthful of sand.