#Heartfelt Lipstick Collection

[beomcoups]

here's to forever (the athlete)

summary: today is the day you finally marry your best friend

genre: fluff, suggestive, 18+ warnings: mentions of sex (hoshi wants to pump some babies into you), mentions of pregnancy words: 0.9k AN: Thank you, @horanghater, for looking over this for me. Every year on the anniversary of the OG fic, I always end up writing another part about their lives since they met. I'm becoming a real yearner. Anyhoo, I decided to go ahead and make a series master list because I am sure more will come, lol. -series masterlist

“I love you.” You rub Soonyoung’s hand with your thumb as he holds back tears, standing before the officiant, his football coach. You just married the love of your life and best friend in front of your family and friends on a large farm in the country. You exchanged heartfelt vows in front of one hundred people on the estate, with the birds singing in the sky and the geese swimming happily in the lake. So far, this day has been nothing short of magical, with those six little words sealing the deal. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Soonyoung pulls the veil over your face and kisses you with a fervent need that sets your nerves on fire. Everyone and everything disappears for a second, but it doesn’t matter; you got your dream guy. Your fingers intertwine with his as you finally break apart, met by the thunderous applause of your guests who watched you become one with your now husband, their approval and joy palpable in the atmosphere. Soonyoung waves your hands triumphantly in the air as you walk down the aisle, flashing your wedding rings with pride for everyone to see. You haven’t seen him this proud since he won his first Super Bowl. Two and a half years later, with two more championship rings added to his collection, his eyes have never shined brighter. Soonyoung leads you away from your guests, taking you down a short path to the lake's edge. When you looked at venues, you found this place while looking through Pinterest, falling in love with the green pastures of the farm and the shining crystal-like waters. Soonyoung didn’t care where you married as long as you were his wife by the end of it. But when you took a trip out here and looked at the place in person, you both knew this was where it was meant to be. With the sun shining through the ivory clouds, it was almost as if your dads were looking down and giving their blessing.  

“We did it, babe,” you revel at the scene. “It’s you and me officially.” 

“Darlin’, you and I were official from the day we met. You just didn’t know it yet.” 

You chuckle and lean into him because, honestly, he is right. You were interested in him the first time you met; you were in denial then. You always swore you wouldn’t be one of those journalists who mixes business with pleasure, yet here you are, marrying the said pleasure. Life works out funny that way. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you close. “I can’t wait to get out of here and pump some babies into you.”

“Same here, baby,” you kiss his lips. “We might be a little late on the baby part, though.”

Soonyoung looks at you curiously as you reach into the secret pocket of your wedding dress. You had it sown in secret when it was tailored initially to keep your lipstick in if you needed to freshen up or had anything else in mind. But a couple of weeks ago, when you went for your routine check-up, you found out you were ten weeks pregnant. You and Soonyoung talked about kids, and you both want them; this will be earlier than you both planned. It explained why you felt lethargic lately and the smell of anything nauseated you. You weren’t sure how to tell him, so you carried it around just in case the opportunity arose. Now is the time. 

Holding up the ultrasound, you hand him the black-and-white photo of the baby growing inside of you. He studies the picture, then looks at you and your stomach, the dots connecting in his brain. You nod, confirming what he is thinking: you will be having his first child. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod as you wipe his tears away. 

He kisses you again, this time sweeter, more tenderer, and full of emotion that he can’t convey in words. You naturally melt into him, feeling safe and secure that the future you two have will be bright. Soonyoung has always said he loved you more than anything, but that’s not true. You love him more. He made you believe in love again, protected you when you needed it, and showed up when you needed him the most. You never felt scared to share your thoughts with him, and even if he didn’t understand, he listened and tried anyway. He never tried to take your spotlight. He respected you and made sure others did, too. Soonyoung brings an array of colors to your mundane world that you hope never goes away. God, you love him so much that it hurts.  

“Well, it makes sense why you weren’t drinking the champagne last night,” he muses. “You love champagne.”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, taking in the moment as you watch two geese embrace one another. If someone had told you over three years ago that you would be marrying thee Kwon Soonyoung and having his child, you would have laughed in their face. But clearly, the universe has a sense of humor. 

“I want to keep this between us,” you say suddenly. “It’s our first child, and I want to hold on to this a little bit longer before family, friends, and the media get a hold of it. You already know how it goes.”

“Of course, baby,” he readily agrees. “Whatever you want.”

He kisses your forehead, leading you back to the photographers so you can start taking pictures. Your makeup artist brushes up your makeup, and unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung gazes at you from afar, watching you with so much pride and love in his heart. The sun shines brighter as if it’s reflecting the future you will have with each other. 

Here is to forever.

[translationandbetrayals]

The Gojo Altar Phenomenon

JUJUTSU KAISEN MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD

  Gojo Satoru, a famous and very beloved character from Jujutsu Kaisen, has amassed a huge fandom over the years. He is probably one of the most popular characters of the modern era of manga and anime. 

So, when the spoilers for one of the latest chapters in the manga got around, revealing that Gojo, one of the strongest characters of all the series, almost invincible, had died fighting against Sukuna, everyone freaked out.

The reaction was massive, it was almost impossible to not get spoiled, either by the massive amount of memes that got out, or the people mourning him. You could say it broke the internet in a way. It trended all over Twitter, as well as Instagram. Even Duolingo joined the fun!

  But one of the most noticeable and viral phenomena that accompanied this internet collective grieving, was the “altar” incident that occurred here, in Santiago de Chile.

  To understand how this occurred, we need the background to 2 things first. The Crunchyroll excessive propaganda of Jujutsu Kaisen around the public transportation, and the cultural significance of what “animitas” are.

The first one is easy to understand. Crunchyroll has the rights over the Jujutsu Kaisen anime, and it being one of the most popular on its platform, they have made sure to properly advertise the series, putting flyers all around the public transportation system in Santiago. Whether it is in the back of the bus, gigant announcements in the subway stations, or signs on crowded streets of the city, it is very easy to find these ads around the city. 

The second thing to understand is what an “animita”  is.  According to the website Memoria Chilena, “Animita is an expression of our particular way of experiencing religiosity, life and, especially, death. It is an anonymous and spontaneous manifestation that arises in the face of a tragic and unexpected event, and that marks the untimely presence of death in this world.(1)” 

In other words, Animitas constitute a type of religious and aesthetic event, where people honor the memory of someone who was taken early in life, becoming a testimony of faith in a life that transcends death. This cultural tradition has a long history and religious importance in our country, with its many forms. They can be small houses/temples on the side of the road, or big murals with messages and art.

Another way to put it would be: “The "animitas" are born from the mercy of individuals and communities in the place where a "bad death" occurred. They can be defined as a popular cenotaph, since the remains of those who tragically perished rest in the cemetery, so in this other space, the soul of the "anima" is honored. (2)” . So these are a direct respect to someone’s soul who has tragically passed away, a different space than when someone mourns in a cemetery.

So how did these two things combine? In the great animita of the subway station Universidad de Chile.

There is a gigantic signboard promoting the series, that includes a mid-profile image of Gojo. People saw the opportunity to express their respect for such a beloved character and honor his memory that ended with such a tragic death, in the form of a very popular and culturally significant tradition, even if it was something they didn't think much through.

The community gathered almost unanimously, as well as had fun showing off creative ways to decorate the sign, whether it was funny or heartfelt messages, little drawings, lipstick stains, flowers or even candles, people got together to created this “animita”, for a character that has touched many people’s hearts, even outside of the Jujutsu Kaisen community.

  This did cause a little trouble with the poor workers of the substation, but thankfully there was an accord to let people stick things, even if they end up cleaning it up every night. 

To this day, the Animita still stands, as a testament to the memory of the great Gojo Satoru, and what communities brought together by events like this can do.

  - Millaray González Aravena

[vbeachchick]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 💜 New Tarte Heartfelt Rose Red LipSurgence Lip Creme Cream 💄.

[freebunni]

Unveiling Elegance: Why Choose the Best Lipstick Brands for Your Beauty

Choosing the right lipstick brand is akin to selecting the perfect accessory to complete your ensemble. Your choice of lipstick can make a bold statement, express your personality, and enhance your overall appearance. As the beauty industry continues to flourish, an array of lipstick brands has emerged, each vying for your attention. Here we will explore the reasons why opting for the best lipstick brands is a wise choice for those who seek not only glamour but also quality and reliability.

Unparalleled Quality and Formulation

When it comes to lipstick, quality is paramount. The best lipstick brands invest heavily in research and development to create formulations that not only deliver stunning color but also care for your lips. Premium ingredients, such as nourishing oils and antioxidants, are often infused to provide hydration and protect against environmental stressors. Choosing a renowned brand ensures that you are adorning your lips with a product that not only looks fabulous but also promotes lip health.

Extensive Color Range for Every Style

Diversity is the spice of life, and the best lipstick brands understand the importance of offering a wide spectrum of colors to cater to every individual's style and preference. Whether you're into classic reds, subtle nudes, or bold and vibrant hues, these brands curate collections that celebrate diversity. The extensive color range allows you to experiment, express yourself, and find the perfect shade for any occasion.

Long-Lasting and Smudge-Proof Formulas

Nobody wants to worry about constant touch-ups throughout the day. Best lipstick brands pride themselves on developing long-lasting and smudge-proof formulas that withstand the rigors of daily life. Whether you're sipping a cup of coffee, indulging in a meal, or sharing a heartfelt smile, these lipsticks stay put, ensuring you maintain a polished look from morning till night.

Innovative Packaging and Design

The aesthetic appeal of lipstick extends beyond the product itself to include the packaging and design. Top-tier lipstick brands understand the importance of creating an experience for the consumer. Luxurious packaging, innovative designs, and attention to detail contribute to the overall allure of the product. When you choose the best lipstick brands, you're not just buying a cosmetic; you're investing in a piece of art that enhances your vanity.

Cruelty-Free and Ethical Practices

In an era where ethical and sustainable choices are gaining prominence, many consumers seek beauty products that align with their values. The best lipstick brands often prioritize ethical practices, including cruelty-free testing and environmentally conscious packaging. By choosing a brand that embraces these principles, you can feel good about your purchase, knowing that you are supporting a company committed to both beauty and compassion.

Industry Reputation and Customer Reviews

Reputation speaks volumes in the beauty industry. The best lipstick brands have earned their status through years of delivering exceptional products and cultivating a loyal customer base. Before making a purchase, savvy consumers often turn to reviews and testimonials to gauge the efficacy of a product. Opting for a well-regarded brand minimizes the risk of disappointment and ensures a positive lipstick experience.

From unparalleled formulations to a diverse color range, these brands offer a holistic lipstick experience that transcends mere aesthetics. So, whether you're a beauty enthusiast or a casual makeup wearer, investing in the best lipstick brands is a step toward enhancing your natural beauty with confidence and sophistication.

[moonaturie]

1. Be it commanding attention on the catwalk or capturing moments in the club's ambiance, I stand out as the epitome of excellence, relishing life with the flair of an authentic fashion enthusiast. Care to join me in this journey? It's an opportunity to unwind, embrace spontaneity, adorn yourself with rosy lipstick, and revel in a day of embodying the spirit of a contemporary Barbie. What are your thoughts on this playful and stylish escapade? So, what do you say we let the poetry of the moment guide us further into this realm of fashion and fantasy? Let's allow the rhythm of life to lead us, and in the process, create memories that resonate with the elegance of our own unique story. Ready to continue this charming adventure with me? Let’s waltz unabashedly through the expansive pages of our uniquely magical fairy tale, where the magic unrolls in the delicate details of our shared celestial haven.

2. In the symphony of sartorial wisdom, it is often uttered that dressing for success lays the foundation for its realization. So, let us together raise a glass to honor not just the fit and design of this ensemble but also the confidence it bestows upon us. Here's a heartfelt cheers to the sublime sensation of feeling absolutely fabulous and the undeniable allure of looking exceptionally fine! Here's to more than just a mere acknowledgment of our exterior appearance! It’s an acknowledgment of the inner radiance that shines brightly through our shared experiences and the beautiful tapestry of life that we paint together. It's an acknowledgment of the transformative power encapsulated within, a silent agreement that the very act of adorning ourselves with intention can be a catalyst for embracing the possibilities that life unrolls. Here's to more than just a recognition of the aesthetic appeal of our attire, let’s say it’s a collective acknowledgment of the luminosity that emanates from within

3. Embracing narcissism is by no means considered a transgression; rather, it aligns with contemporary societal trends. My inclination towards meticulous observation ensures that no detail goes unnoticed, leading to the unveiling of these incisive insights. I am curious about your suggestion for a suitable moniker in this context. Perhaps it is pertinent to contemplate a title such as "Her: Your Forever Girl Crush" as an essential consideration. In pondering this epithet, one is prompted to reflect on the broader implications of embracing narcissism in the context of personal identity and societal dynamics! Armed with my distinct perception of summertime, I find myself entirely predisposed to welcome this season with an open heart and a soul that flutters in anticipation of the myriad experiences it holds. This lens, tinted with the warmth and vibrancy of autumn, serves as a filter through which I approach and embrace the current season!

[milkysimss]

TEEN SIMFLUENCERS // HIGH SCHOOL YEARS // CREATE A SIM

Sim #1

Saç : https://www.patreon.com/posts/miranda-hair-y2k-66010436?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copy_to_clipboard&utm_campaign=postshare

Top : https://its-adrienpastel.tumblr.com/post/651706989926350848/habits-top-ea-mesh-texture-edit-custom

Etek : https://www.patreon.com/posts/euphoria-33-64185964

Ayakkabı : https://jius-sims.tumblr.com/post/680154013223845888/jius-sims-flower-butterfly-collection-03

Çorap : https://jius-sims.tumblr.com/post/664573783417421824/retro-collection-part-2-shoes-jius-leather

Küpe : https://maxismatchccworld.tumblr.com/post/637451740596371456/huniebun-advent-calendar-day-12-heartfelt

Kolye : https://www.quirky-introvert.com/post/july-2022-collection

Sim #2

Saç : https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-hair-hairstyles-female/title/verity-hair/id/1582240/

Top : https://greenllamas.tumblr.com/post/688605240341200896/mimosa

Pantolon : https://aharris00britney.tumblr.com/post/683156200833056768/axa-girlboss

Ayakkabı : https://trillyke.tumblr.com/post/667546233791004672/maverick-platform-heels-another-pair-of-iconic

Gözlük : https://www.patreon.com/posts/miranda-hair-y2k-66010436?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copy_to_clipboard&utm_campaign=postshare

Pantolon Aksesuar : https://arethabee.tumblr.com/post/651732740137533440/prettysavage

Kolye : https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-accessories-female-necklaces/title/shanna-necklace-heavendy-cc/id/1393756/

Bu CC'ler Tüm Simlerde Mevcuttur

Makyaj Setler

https://www.patreon.com/posts/teens-first-set-69253359

https://www.patreon.com/posts/63224744

https://www.patreon.com/posts/simple-set-69136744

https://www.patreon.com/posts/soft-vibes-62901209

https://www.patreon.com/posts/euphoria-makeup-63389835

https://www.patreon.com/posts/glimpse-x-65848362

https://www.patreon.com/posts/mean-girls-set-67383508

https://twisted-cat.tumblr.com/post/683064632611618816/glazed-lipsticks

https://thepeachyfaerie.tumblr.com/post/663473382017368064/e-mo-a-cc-pack-by-peachyfaerie

Cilt Renk ve Detaylar

https://llumisims.tumblr.com/post/660441493328232448/windflower-default-non-default-skin-these-new

https://miikocc.tumblr.com/post/653369415716519936/face-kit-no1

https://lamatisse.tumblr.com/post/626644431812100096/bare-a-skintone-pack-there-are-so-many-creators

Göz Rengi:

 https://simcelebrity00.tumblr.com/post/626270328096702464/adore-eyes-remastered-inspired-by

Kirpik

 https://www.patreon.com/posts/mmsims-3d-v3-27550505

Kaş : https://nesurii.tumblr.com/post/188348125911/eyebrow-repack-01-hi-just-a-small-reupload-of

https://obscurus-sims.tumblr.com/post/619679854568292352/eyebrows-n-30-33-colors-teen-female-only

Preset

 https://www.patreon.com/posts/basics-set-67978057

[yandere-daydreams]

Imagine a yandere who's a reporter with a darling who's a celebrity. Everytime they interview you they know so much, and at first you can just kid yourself into thinking they're really good at their job, but at some point it just crosses that line. Plus there's nobody willing to help you because 'you're famous! You get no privacy! Shouldn't have gotten into the business if you can't handle it'

tw - stalking, physical abuse, sexual abuse/exploitation, delusional mindsets, implied noncon, infantilization.

I’ll raise you one - a sweet, obsessive reporter who thinks everyone deserves to see their amazing, pretty, wonderful darling, the lovely little thing who just so happens to be the very same celebrity they chased after before your abrupt ‘retirement’. They care how you feel, obviously, and they want to give you time to adjust to your new lifestyle, but... You’re just so beautiful, and so cute, and so incredibly. It’d just be a shame to keep you all to themself, and they’ve always been the generous type. 

It helps that they’re so used to reporting on you, by the time they think to take the next step in your relationship. They got paid for it, back then, paying off your assistants to find out where you’ll be and when, trailing after you down red carpets and city streets alike, spending the night staked outside of your window just on the chance they might get a decent shot of something scandalous enough to draw prying eyes, but they’d never really cared for that, taking advantage of you, monetizing what should be an act of love. It’s easier, now that they have you all to themself, now that they don’t have to compete for your attention. They can’t reach as broad of an audience, but that’s alright, they’re fine with it, really. They still have a place to show you off, even if this platform isn’t quite as reputable as their last. They’ve still got a community that loves you just as much as they do, and they’re more than happy to work with what they’ve got.

They only wish you’d let yourself enjoy your photoshoots a little more. You’ve always been the shy type, but you’re really taking it to a new extreme, always hiding your face and shoving them away and glaring so harshly at your loving photographer, when they finally get you to look in the right direction. Sometimes you still try to cry your way out of it, balling yourself up in the smallest corner you can find, calling them a ‘freak’ and a ‘pervert’ between hitched breaths, whatever that means. On a good day, you’ll ruin your make-up, tear your cutest outfit, destroy one of their (admittedly excessive) heartfelt gifts beyond repair, and on a bad day, it’s all they can do to get you pinned down and sedated, your post-session tantrum be damned. They’re not mad, though, and they can never seem to remember to hold it against you. Even strung out, panicked, covered in bruises and scrapes and all the other little trophies you earned yourself, during your last show of defiance, you’re still beautiful, and their new viewers seem to have a soft spot for your rebellious side. Those pictures always get the most engagement, and they have to admit, there is something nice about seeing you all roughed up, your lipstick smeared and your eyes barely open and the shape of their teeth still indented into your skin, their claim on your visible for all the world to see.

It's almost enough for them to push you just a little further. It's almost enough for them to get just a little rougher, if only because your new fans seem to enjoy it so much. You should just count yourself lucky your lover can be selfish from time to time, too.

Those pictures will just have to stay in their personal collection. Until the next time you misbehave, at least.

[writefightandflightclub]

We’d better run (Santi x GN reader)

Author’s note: There’s not a lot to it. Just a quick little Santi blurb, with a cosy NYE trope - that man needs someone to kiss at midnight. Bonus trope of meddling friends. 😀

Rating: 18+ to be safe. It’s mature but not explicit. (Steam but no smut.)

Warnings: alcohol consumption + tipsy squad. Making-out. Swearing.

GIF: by @ithinkwehitametaphor​

Song inspo: Kiss U Right Now (thanks @wowjeena for sending this in an ask- hope it’s ok to tag you!)

The atmosphere was jubilant, and your squad was equally so. This crummy dive bar felt like heaven, even as the aroma of bad beer spiked in your nostrils, and as you danced with your soles sticking to the claggy floor.

You all drew some stares - amidst the other people on the dance floor dressed in their best party ensembles, you had crashed in wearing a baseball cap and a ratty old band t-shirt, four burly men in tow. A series of juvenile whoops (and even a howl from Benny) had announced your arrival as you crashed through the double doors.

“Run! We’d better run!” you had called earlier.

With only a matter of minutes remaining until midnight, you had inspired the boys to sprint several blocks from Frankie’s place. You had refused - at the last minute- to stay in on NYE, and had insisted you wanted to dance. Really dance, without worrying about smashing the TV in Frankie’s cramped living room as your arms flailed. Santi had backed you up, insisting he wanted to leave too, to find someone to kiss at midnight. So, you had all legged it -pausing only momentarily for Frankie to dry heave over a wall- and you had arrived with breaths still sawing in and out of your lungs, sweat sheening your faces as you all eagerly swarmed the dance floor.

Just like on the battlefield, collectively, you were a force, the whole throng noticeably shrinking back from your energy, and being pushed imperceptibly to the margins of the floor to make room for you, as if your happiness was so big it crowded everything else out besides those in your bubble.

Even in your tipsy state, you clocked the sudden interest in your group as the newest arrivals to the bar, patrons’ eyes roving over your figures in gratitude for some fresh prey this evening. You had no doubt Santi wasn’t the only one in search of a kiss at midnight - there appeared to be plenty of people on the prowl, in fact. You noticed a few women settle their gaze on Santi in particular as he bust his over-the-top moves, replete with plenty of thrusting and hip wiggling. His knees would hurt tomorrow, but that ass doesn’t quit.

What can you say? He knows his assets, and he knows how to work them.

Even so, as they eye him, you cannot find it in you to be jealous, and it doesn’t occur to you to try to covet the attentions of your long-time crush. Instead, laughter freely spills out of you as the boys spin you between each of them, chaotically ricocheting you across the dance floor, and before long you can barely even dance from laughing.

In the midst of it all you have a mushy moment, surveying the faces of your friends -your best friends- all of your eyes creased and hearts smoothed with happiness. You laugh even as Frankie doubles over from exertion, and especially as Benny strips his t-shirt off, circling it above his head to welcome screams from the crowd, acting like some ostentatious small town rock star. Will is sober as all hell but still getting into it, and making sure to video the whole thing on his cell; no doubt so he can make you all cringe as you massage your sore temples in the morning and he looks on - fresh as a daisy.

Your eyes fall to Santi next, gaze locking with his for the briefest of moments, and this is happy too, watching your friend boogie... except, the happiness you feel when your eyes land on him hits different. Hits deeper. Santi always hits different, even if you’re too stubborn and too afraid to admit it.

You pick up where you had left off with him over at Frankie’s, after the pilot had predictably started busting out the Fleetwood Mac tunes. You and Santi try desperately to outdo each other’s moves, each taking it a notch higher and becoming more and more ridiculous, until you barely recognise the movements your body is making. You reckon you are making history, and dancing moves previously undocumented on Earth.

As you move, you are being crushed closer and closer together by the throng which gradually encloses around you once more. In this tighter space, your hands fleetingly find each other’s bodies. Your hands fall on his shoulders to steady yourself when the crowd jostles you. His hand finds yours to twirl you, or your hands settle on his chest or at his waist. You care not that he is clammy with sweat beneath his t-shirt, noting only that he feels warm and sturdy under your touch. Still, you are careful not to linger, and you quickly snap your touch away, as comfortable as it feels to be in contact with him. As right as it feels.

The whole bar seems to buzz around the two of you, causing you to brim over with a warm, fuzzy feeling which you feel from your core to the tips of your fingers. It is the sense of memories being forged, you think - of a night to remember in the making.

You continue to ricochet chaotically around the dance floor with your buddies, as you are torn from one dance to the next, the loud and jubilant rock music pounding through your chest from the speakers, and collectively you seem to gravitate towards it as it pulses you deeper and deeper into the throng.

You are hot, you are sweating -your t-shirt clinging to your torso now- and your legs ache. Your throat stings from belting out the lyrics, but you are desperately and furiously happy.

In moments, more shots are passed around by Frankie, and you clink glasses, half of the amber liquid spilling on to your top as someone dances into you, and the other half burning pleasantly down your centre. Santi’s eyes snag on yours again for another fleeting moment, and you could swear his gaze burns pleasantly down to your centre too.

“30 seconds!” the bar back shouts via the PA system, and a cheer erupts all through the room, a multitude of hands being propelled into the air at once, as if the crowd is one heaving entity, and you all jump and yell and sing until you feel like you can’t anymore, but you do anyway.

“Kiss me!” Santi yells, his eyebrows raised, and his stance wide, his arms raised up until his body creates an “x” shape. “Some fucker had better kiss me when the ball drops,” he announces, loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Pope - your balls should have dropped already, man,” Will laughs, and then you are laughing with him, slapping him on the shoulder and creasing forward in mirth, your face and cheeks and jaw already aching with joy.

“Ten!”

You gasp as the word erupts through the bar, the countdown commencing, and you throw your arms up again, screaming out in excitement.

“Somebody fuckin’ kiss me!” Santi yells, louder this time, more urgently, looking around the room, and you catch a series of micro-expressions unfold, as if in slow motion. You notice the group of women by the bar teeter on the edge of responding to his call- a curl of lips, a tick of an eyebrow, a half-hungry stare and red-lipsticked mouth sucking on a straw. You see Benny, too, about to give Santi more then he bargained for if he doesn’t shut up.

Meanwhile, you simply keep dancing.

“Five!” the voice calls, over the blasting music.

Still, you keep dancing, as if it’s essential. As if the motion itself will propel you into the new year.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Frankie is spinning you and thrusting you directly into Santi’s arms. You fall forwards, thrown off balance, grabbing on to his shoulders to regain your footing, and his hands fly around your waist to steady you, his smile wide and disarming. You dip your head to laugh into his shoulder, still singing along to the song.

“One! Happy new year!”

And, as rousing cheers sound out all around you, suddenly it is Santi crowding everything else out. He grins and grabs your face in his hands, pulling your lips to his for an innocent and celebratory smack on the lips, knocking both the caps from your heads simultaneously. They lie discarded on the floor, soon trampled out of sight; forgotten as Santi plants his kiss. His stubble is alarmingly rough against you, his lips still tainted with the taste of tequila and tang of salt and lime. He’s warm. He’s so warm.He feels so... right.

Suddenly, for the first time in hours, you are no longer laughing. Suddenly, everything no longer seems quite as funny. All of the buzz and the motion and the noise seems to halt around you. There is only Santi. There are only his surprised brown eyes meeting yours, his fingers coming up to his lips as if to understand the sensation he just experienced zip through him, more intense than the burn of tequila, thrumming through him more urgently than the pulse of the music. A happiness deeper than all of the revelry surrounding him.

You note the way your fingers have gradually fisted into his damp t-shirt, as if to pull him closer. You note the way you can’t tear your gaze away from his lips. The way your blood rushes in your ears.

You are torn away from each other quickly, however, snatching you from this intimate, all-encompassing circle and back into the room, Will rushes in to lift Santi by the waist and spin him around, Benny dives in to offer to you an enclosing, shirtless, back-slapping hug which you’re sure rattles your bones. You are even caught up by strangers who embrace you in glee and hope. The atmosphere is electric, and still, it is nothing like the jolt which hit you when Santi’s lips met yours.

Next, your arms find Frankie’s in the crowd and you tug him to you, squeezing him in a heartfelt, urgent hug, grins splitting your faces in two.

The rounds done, and a sudden wave of adrenaline pulling you from your kiss-drunk stupor, you yell a victorious “Happy new year, mother fuckers!”, completely oblivious to Santi’s plight.

That is, until you follow Frankie’s nod and see Santi standing there in the crowd, entirely still as the world blurs around him. He appears entirely fixated on you.

You can’t explain why those familiar eyes of his suddenly give you jitters quite like this, your legs turning to jelly beneath you where previously you were convinced you could have danced until dawn.

So, this time, when Frankie encouragingly pushes you into Santi with soft eyes and a knowing curl of his lips, it hits a little different. You fall into him, clinging on to his shoulders for dear life. His eyes search yours.

“Kiss me,” Santi says earnestly, and this time he is not yelling the words, or urgently seeking some hasty gratification before midnight. He is taking his time with them, these words well-considered and purposeful on his lips. He is not yelling; however, somehow the words seem ten times louder than they did before.

“The ball already dropped, Santi,” you say, voice trembling, just like your legs.

“Damn right. The ball has finally dropped,” Frankie snickers from beside you, referencing the sudden awakening of your feelings, or Santi’s, or both of yours, perhaps. But you both ignore Frankie. There is no-one else in the world right now. Everything else in this crummy dive bar fades to black. So, instead, Santi pulls you closer, your warm bodies chest-to-chest, and his broad, firm hands snaking up and up and up to find your hair.

“Yeah. I know,” he says gently yet smugly, his eyes fixed on your mouth, his pink tongue darting out as if to tempt you. “Kiss me again.”

You gulp, feeling weaker by the moment. “Right here, in front of everybody?”

The corner of Santi’s tempting mouth turns up into a smile, his eyes brewing with a ferocious heat.

“Let them watch,” he purrs sinfully, and a whimper falls from your lips, Santi’s strong hands the only thing keeping you upright -you could swear- as they wrap at your back and clasp you close to him.

At his suggestion, you practically fall on to his lips as if it was pre-destined, and his tongue is plundering your mouth instantly, the taste of him searing all the way down to the pit of you like a shot of fire. He is a potent spirit - the taste of tequila on his tongue as he delves into you, the tang of sweat on his lips like salt, and the bitter rasp of his stubble against your mouth and cheek as you open up to devour him, and willingly have him devour you.

Your sweaty, eager bodies press firmly together, and you fingers travel up; up and up from his shoulders... over the scar at the nape of his neck, over the bobbled chain he wears, over his prickled undercut and into his dark, grizzled curls.

Santi arches his body even more keenly against you, crushing you to him, letting you feel every contour of him. That muscled thigh settled in between yours and his hips thrust towards you, a burgeoning promise pressing up against your core. His shapely chest and the softness of his stomach meeting yours. It feels so good to touch like this, and you desperately hope this touch will not be so fleeting as the last.

As if fearing the same, Santi’s kiss grows, heavy and urgent. Dog tags are crushed up in the space between you too, and the heat of his broad hands press at your back and your neck, the bite of his watch strap cooling on your hot skin as he kisses you like that, right here in front of everybody.

You can’t get enough of him. You want to drink every drop of him down.He’s rough and hot and yet smooth like caramel.

Eagerly, your hands claw into his hair and you instinctively give a gentle tug on his curls. When Santi delivers a gruff, delicious moan into your open mouth in return, he sends a liquid heat all the way down to your core, more potent than the burn of any spirit.

You are drunk on him.

He tastes good.

He feels good.

He tastes good enough, hot enough, satisfying enough that you whimper as he pulls away from you, the both of you panting, foreheads briefly resting against one another as your chests and breaths heave in the tight space between you. And yet, you are still pawing at each other, still unable to satiate yourselves. Needing more.

“Happy new year,” he exhales, with a gentle smirk, and yet words will not come to you yet.

Not until your next thought occurs to you.

“Mmm-hmm. Which of these motherfuckers lives the closest?” you ask urgently, with a sideward nod of your head towards the slack-jawed squad beside you.

Santi’s eyebrow ticks up at you with interest. “Why, you wanna..?”

“Yes,” you state breathily, your voice a husk, pleased he is instantly catching your drift.

“Benny! Keys! Now!” Santi yells urgently, as keen as you are to enact your vision, and his tone is commanding enough that Benny obeys instantly.

Santi palms the keys as they’re thrown and his hand trails down your arm like a lick of flame, coming to clasp your hand firmly in his.

“Wanna get out of here, honey?” he asks, and you smile. You smile until your face aches. You are desperately and furiously happy, and there is nowhere else you would rather go.

In fact, you are very keen to start the new year as you mean to go on. With Santi buried deep in you. His hot, bare, sturdy body entwined with yours - wrapped around you. Kissing you, his tongue surging into you. Loving you, you hope.

“Get out of here, Pope?” you ask with a wink, and he looks at you as if you’re the most stunning sight he’s ever seen, even as your old shirt clings to the contours of you, dampened with sweat. “I think we’d better run, love.”

Then, you each look at the other with a happy, hungry stare, before turning on your heels and legging it out of there, leaving everything else in your wake.

Your happiness crowds everything else out.

Santi crowds everything else out.

Everything else in the crummy dive bar fades to black.

The other boys watch you go, Frankie all-together pleased with his meddling, and happy for his two dear friends. Meanwhile, the repurcussions of Benny’s actions in handing over his keys are just about dawning on him.

“They’re gonna fuck all over my house, aren’t they?”

“Yep,” Frankie responds, slapping him on the back and delivering a throaty, unsympathetic chuckle.

“Maybe you’d better find somewhere else to stay, brother.” Will winks, and Benny shrugs, a confident, undaunted smile inching over his face. In fact, he responds with Santi’s tactic, edging out into the centre of the floor, strutting like the prize fighter he is, and yelling “Somebody kiss me!”

Will and Frankie stand on the sidelines, sharing a gruff chuckle as they watch all of this unfold, until Will nods towards the doorway, where you and Santi exited moments ago. “Do you think they’ll regret that tomorrow?” he worries, his brow furrowing as a less than stable Frankie leans up against his side.

Frankie’s lips curl-up into a smile, and he shakes his head. “Honestly, I only think they’ll regret not doing it sooner.”

You and Santi would probably agree with that sentiment too.

Wholeheartedly, in fact.

Happy new year, motherfuckers.

As for what happened after you left the bar, let’s just say... you definitely started as you mean to go on.

And Santi can go on and on... and then some.

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

10 Things about Stray Kids

I've spent MONTHS this year thinking of these things. Kept it on a notepad in my phone, and finally finished it. Here are 10 things that make me think about: Bang Chan The immediate safety and warmth you feel when you smell a lovers cologne Awkward but genuine and heartfelt authenticity The ornate, timeless and sturdy stone of historical architecture Skinny dipping Stuffing yourself inside of someone's jacket with them to stay warm Sex that feels forbidden and exactly right at the same time Arguments that are rare but leave you desperate for reassurance The act of selflessness in saving someone without thinking The time of day that makes you feel the most alive 90's grunge fashion Lee Minho The flavor, scent and warmth of melted milk chocolate A healthy dose of jealousy The feeling you get when someone enjoys the food you made or bought for them Heated stares that you can feel on your skin Mischievous smiles and wiggled brows Having a connection with someone who just gets you Self care dates The act of giving someone a massage just because Donating supplies to local animal shelters Staying in bed and making love all day Seo Changbin The immediate bliss of laying down to go to sleep First loves that you never acted upon and still think about sometimes The biting wind that signals the change from Autumn to Winter Wet leaves on paved roads after rain Always having someone in your corner Slow kisses that wind you up as you're pushed down on a bed Heroes who look like villains Chivalry Sex that makes you feel so loved that you cry Leather jackets Hwang Hyunjin Kisses stolen between classes or meetings A skeleton mannequin with flowers blooming from the ribcage The soft rose color of cheeks and noses in winter Elegant white swans The moment you realize someone has a crush on you Seeing the sparkle of delight in someone's eyes The habit of drawing hearts on fogged mirrors or windows Christmas trees decorated with white lights Deep, philosophical conversations whispered under the blankets before falling asleep Always looking into someone's eyes when you say 'I love you' Han Jisung The satisfaction of throwing a good party The joy you hear in someone's laugh Innocent touches that linger on your skin The flavor you get when you eat a whole handful of skittles at once The sound of a lover just before orgasm The act of hiding your tears during a sentimental movie Making something out of nothing in the best way possible Quiet perseverance Preaching 'laughter is the best medicine' Having the courage to face your fears for someone else Lee Yongbok Bold and glittery eye makeup Having a homemade meal with your family after a long time The ambiance of retro arcades A hug that makes you cry because the relief is instantaneous The excitement in a manga when the hero does something unbelievable and cool Fantasy ambiance music Pastel colors, specifically related to fashion Holding hands tightly during first intimacy encounters Kissing under a waterfall in a tropical paradise Giving someone a gift that you made yourself Kim Seungmin Yellow lilies Trusting someone, and knowing they will never lie The first time you feel the sun's warm rays just as Spring arrives A simple kiss that conveys someone's confession A crystal vase full of wildflowers sitting atop a grand piano A collection of unique and stylish hats Someone who does things for you without asking Lipstick kiss marks on cheeks Telling someone you want them with just a look Slowly exploring each other's bodies the first time Yang Jeongin The playful sweet and sour that comes with the lemon aesthetic Determination to always get up and try again The strength that comes from sibling bonds The magic of rainbow confetti at a concert Hurting your own dignity just to make someone smile Buying silly gifts for each other on anniversaries and taking pictures with them Humming until your lover falls asleep The Slytherin aesthetic A collection of vintage accessories, especially glasses Displays of affection only behind closed doors

[nicklloydnow]

“Fear is archaic, it is embedded in the body, in its purest form untouchable to thought, and it is there to keep us alive. There are other vulnerable parts of the body, the heart being perhaps the most obvious, but when I think of the heart, I don’t think of it being pierced by a javelin or a spear or a bullet; that would be absurd. No, the heart fills me with thoughts of life and force, and if vulnerability and fear are involved, it is no more than a mild concern that one day it will simply stop beating. This must be because the heart belongs to the front of the body, the front we turn to the world, and always keep in check, since we can see what lies ahead of us, we can see what is coming, and take our precautions. The heart feels safe. That the neck is in fact just as safe, since we live in a world where people no longer carry swords, makes no difference to the feeling of vulnerability, it is archaic and closely linked to the fact that the neck belongs to the reverse side of the body, it is always turned toward what we cannot see and cannot control. The fear of everything we cannot see converges on the neck, and if in earlier times it used to be associated with physical violence, the most pressing association now is its figurative sense, which lives on in the social realm, in expressions like being attacked from the rear, getting it in the neck, watch your back, having eyes in the back of your head, being spoken about behind your back.

But the symbolic language that radiates from or the associations that converge on the neck, are not only about being struck, that is, being a passive victim of a surprise attack, or having something taken away from you, but also the opposite, where vulnerability is something that is offered. When we wish to show someone respect or to be polite, we bow to them, in other words, we expose our neck. It is a way of showing trust, and of giving something of yourself to the other, in an ancient system of differentiation where, in face of the supreme, you not only make a deep and sweeping bow, as to a king or other dignitaries, but kneel and lower your head to the ground, as you would before an altar or on a prayer mat. The gesture is humble, self-surrendering, it means laying your life in the hands of others.

While this country has not had the death penalty since the trials of Nazi collaborators after World War II, it is still applied in countries we have close ties to, namely the U.S.A., our main ally. If we consider the execution methods used there, it becomes obvious that death is not just death, since there is a big difference between separating the criminal’s head from his neck with a well-aimed stroke of the axe, and injecting his body with a lethal toxin or sending a surge of electricity through it. An injection has something neutral, controlled and professional about it, it is administered by a medical doctor, while electricity belongs to modernity and therefore seems civilized—though perhaps not so any longer, there is something crudely early modern about it, we associate it with quantity, with mass, and therefore also with the same kind of brutality and lack of sophistication shown by the errors of medical science during this era, lobotomy, measuring human skulls, eugenics. But still not as brutal as hanging, traditionally the least honorable form of execution, that most degrading to the victim—it is said that the prospect of being humiliated through hanging is what caused Göring to commit suicide in his Nürnberg cell—and even more so in the case of beheading. We perceive beheading as something barbaric and inhumane. To see a head being separated from a body must be one of the most terrifying sights a human being can be exposed to. But why? The end result is the same as when a lethal injection is administered, the person dies. It must be that something else is revealed in the act of decapitation, something more than the bare fact, the cessation of life functions. So what is it? In ritual sacrifice, which is still carried out in certain cultures, the head is separated from the body, and it is this, as much as death in itself, that the community gathers around. Death is displayed, and thus controlled, but the same would have been achieved if the victim had died quietly of poison.

(…)

When the French philosopher Georges Bataille founded the secret society Acéphale (The Headless) in 1936, which among other things celebrated the decapitation of Louis XVI and supposedly also discussed the possibility of carrying out a human sacrifice, the reason was not simply because the chop in the neck opened the abyss between life and death, but also between head and body, reason and chaos, human and animal, in a symbolic language where the neck forms the transition between what is low, corporeal-animal, and what is high, spiritual—but also in an ambiguous mythical language, where beheading reveals or liberates certain forces, murky and archaic, linked to death, soil, darkness, but also to repetition and continuity, for what the sacrificial victim exhibits, with its steaming blood and deep bellow, is a place where existence is dizzyingly densified. This is why Francis Ford Coppola ends his film Apocalypse Now with sacrifice and beheading, where meaning meets meaninglessness, life meets death, collective transgression meets individual limitation.

(…)

A face? We see what the face communicates, what it “tells” us. We enhance communication, we apply lipstick, mascara, we wear glasses, grow a beard, whiskers, or we don’t, but even a naked face tells us something, every look is a form of address, and a downturned gaze is not nothing, it is a non-address, a turning away. In the world of images we inhabit today, there is hardly a single part of the body that has not been exploited, sexually, commercially, or intellectually. Breasts, bottoms, thighs, calves, feet. Backs, biceps, six-pack abs. Cunts and cocks. Toes and fingers with nails lacquered red. Pierced tongues. Inner organs are bought and sold in the Third World; in the First World, the transactions take place between the living and the dead, in so-called organ transplants. In this sense, the neck is perhaps the only body part left that is not for sale, that is not on view in magazines and periodicals, that doesn’t serve as the owner’s marketing site or display window, that doesn’t change owners after death, and which, in contrast to its front side, the face, hardly communicates anything, neither contemporaneity, nor culture, nor community, and thus appears “mute.” And this is why, I think, that in looking at the neck, as these photos lead us to do, we get the feeling that we are being offered a glimpse of the body as it is in itself, non-individual, non-relational, biological, whole, and authentic. Something growing in a certain place in the world.

But the fact that the neck is unexploited visually and commercially of course does not mean that it stands outside of the culture, to the contrary, the neck, too, is loaded with meaning. It means only that it is marginal, somewhat forgotten, most often associated with not seeing, and with not being seen, that is, with negation, in contrast to the heart, for instance, which is also blind and mute, but in touch with a whole other wealth of signification. The heart signifies love, it means warmth, kindness, consideration. She has a big heart, home is where the heart is, our heartfelt sympathy, his heart is broken. The heart is life, light, love, compassion. The only figurative sense assigned to the neck that I can think of is found in the expression stiff-necked, that is, stubborn, obdurate, willful, intractable, impossible. To be stiff-necked is not to give way, not to yield a single inch, to always know best, always keep one’s cards close to one’s chest. The meaning can be extended to uprightness, which is the positive variant of being stiff-necked, that is, not relinquishing one’s pride and self-respect, holding one’s ground. Thus, the neck, in a certain sense, is linked to an existence outside of the community. The opposite, in the symbolic language of the neck, is to be stooped, that is, cowed, at the mercy of others, but in a more passive and less voluntary sense than when one bows deeply or kneels, out of respect for the other or in awe of the sacred.

It may seem as if the neck, in the symbolic language of body parts, has assumed the place between humility and pride, self-surrender and self-righteousness, but in a most discrete, gray eminence–like way, present only indirectly, as opposed to the more imposing organs and joints, like the brain, the symbol of intelligence, associated with a certain coldness and distance, but also with clarity and objectivity, not drowning in a heaving sea of vague emotions and sentimentality as one who thinks with the heart is.

In the metaphysics of the body, the neck forms the link between the reason of the mind and the light of the spirit, and the irrationality of the body and the darkness of desire. In other words, the neck is the place between and the place outside. To be stiff-necked, as opposed to cowed, does not refer only to exposing your neck or not, appearing defenseless or not, for when you bow your head you also conceal your gaze from the other. To look into someone’s eyes is to signal that you are equals, while to look down is to subordinate yourself to the gaze of the other, to no longer be on the same footing. It can also mean keeping something hidden, one’s true self, or something in it that one does not wish to be seen. The downturned gaze may contain hatred, or shame, or, as is often the case, both at once.

The primordial image of the bowed head and the downturned gaze is found in the Bible, in the story of Cain and Abel, where it is written about Cain that “his face fell.” Jahveh asks why Cain’s face has fallen, and continues: “If you do well, will not your countenance be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door, and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” This touches the very core of what it is to be human, as I see it, namely, that to be in yourself is inhuman, since that which is human is always something that becomes in relation to something else, yes, the human is this otherness, that we become ourselves in and that we exist in. To bow down is to bow down before something, to be stiff-necked is to be stiff-necked in the face of something, to worship is to worship something, and to look down is also to look away from something. This relativity, which is as complex as it is abstract and intangible, since it occurs in the spaces between, and has no object, no place of its own, never fixed, always in motion, turns the concept of biological man into a fiction, an image among images, nothing in itself, except in death, when for the first time the body no longer grasps at something, no longer seeks anything, and only then is it something in itself, that is to say, no longer human.

And perhaps this is the real and simple insight afforded by the sacrifice, that we are creatures of flesh, filled with blood, and that we are going to die. What sacrifice does is to penetrate every layer, every veil of culture, and in a gesture devoid of meaning in any other sense than this, it reveals to us the otherwise always inaccessible truth about our existence, of what we are in the world.”

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: XV

Description: It’s almost been a year since Fred Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: Fluff

MASTERLIST

***

Seven months later Hannah was staring at herself in the mirror, taking deep, calming breaths as she shook with excitement. Four women were rushing around the room behind her, panic pulling them back and forth as they struggled to get ready in time, but Hannah could only daydream, still wearing nothing but the satin robe Caroline had handed her that morning.

She had been dreaming about this day since George knelt down on one knee, and it would have been here much sooner had the combined forces of Mrs. Weasley and her own mother not demanded the celebration be grand. They had whispered about eloping as they laid in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, but the idea had always vanished at the thought of their mothers’ wrath.

Now the day was finally here.

“Hannah, my god, do you even want to get married?” Sloane cried out when she finally noticed the daydreaming girl. Hannah giggled as she was yanked away from the mirror and to her feet by her maid of honor. They twirled around the room, laughing as they bumped into the edges of furniture. Sloane pulled Caroline into their little dance, and when the two mothers returned, they found a pile of giggling girls rolling among the bedsheets.

“It’s almost one,” Mrs. Weasley gasped, staring at the three girls, including the bride, who were the furthest thing from ready.

“I thought that was what magic was for, waiting until the last minute,” Caroline quipped from the sheets.

“It is, but last time I checked you don’t have any,” Sloane replied, tapping the younger girl’s nose before pulling her towards the wardrobe where their dresses were hanging.

When Hannah was younger, she had wanted nothing more than yellow bridesmaids’ dresses. When her mother took her to the shops, she took great pride in running her fingers over the yellow section of the store, determining exactly what dresses they would wear as they began the wedding procession. Today, that was a dream that would not be coming true. After a great many hours of fighting between what she had dreamed of for years and what present her secretly wanted. Sloane had finally stepped in and chastised her for her loyalty to nostalgia and that was all that was needed for the yellow dresses that refused to be any other color became powder blue. The color Ginny had informed her was Fred’s favorite color.

While her childhood bridesmaid dresses had been forgotten, her dress certainly hadn’t. The skirt was layers and layers of tulle that floated about her legs. The bodice was beaded into patterns of flowers, and the shimmer contrasted the stark white of the skirt. She let Sloane magic diamonds into the curls of her hair until she looked like the fairy queens she had read about in fairytales as a child. As she transformed, she stared out the window to the real fairytale, George.

He was waving his wand across the courtyard, summoning things beneath a silver tent. She craned her neck to see what appeared, but the angle was too harsh to ease her curiosity. So, instead she watched George. He wasn’t in his suit yet, opting instead for his sleep shirt and a pair of plaid pants she had bought him for Christmas. His feet were bare against the morning dew that hadn’t yet evaporated in the July sun. If she had been within earshot, she would have chastised him, worried he was going to catch a cold. Instead, because she wasn’t, she merely watched him, not entirely sure she could believe by the end of the day she would be Mrs. Hannah Weasley.

The last time she had dreamed about getting married had been Year 5 when Donald O’Donoghue had asked to hold her hand during recess. It was the only moment she had deviated from her yellow dress obsession, when he told her his favorite color was lime green; however, after realizing his hands were very sweaty (and viewing the dress options in his choice color) she realized they were not a compatible match. She had had other boyfriends of course, but she never was able to imagine them at the end of the aisle. She hadn’t even been able to imagine George, and now that the day was here, she kept pinching herself. He was so perfect, and so wonderful, and so incomparable that the fact he had chosen her was a miracle in itself.

Suddenly, he looked up and smiled as he caught her smile through the glass. She smiled back, heart still fluttering at the little grin he seemed to save just for her. She waved and tragically caught the others’ attention, who gasped before collectively yanking the curtains closed.

“You can’t let him see you,” her mother scolded, and she rolled her eyes, raising her fingers to peak out once more, disappointed to find he had disappeared from view.

“We’ll be okay,” she whispered, smiling when she caught a butterfly escape the confines of the tent and traipsed through her open window. It landed on the skirt of her dress and somehow, she knew it was all his doing, a small message that the butterflies were real. She felt herself tearing up, laughing softly to herself at the possibility that it might not even be him, but a simple butterfly.

“Oh dear, Hannah, are you alright?” Molly asked, taking her hand as she crouched down beside the teary-eyed girl.

“I just love him, y’know,” she whispered and suddenly Molly was crying along with her. They laughed as they wiped away their tears, muttering nonsense about eyeliner they both knew would be long gone by the end of the ceremony. “I’m glad you’re okay with me,” she whispered, and Molly instantly dried her tears, replacing profound joy with confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m not like you, our children might not, and I’ll never understand everything,” she rambled, tears gathering again, and Molly pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“Don’t you ever think that. I love you like my own, and it doesn’t matter as long my son is happy, and you make him happy,” she replied and then they were both sobbing quietly amidst the chaos of the morning.

A knock at the door startled them, and they both quickly dried their eyes as Caroline answered the door. A blond boy poked his head in and any worries that were left about the day melted away at the sight of her best friend.

“Can you give us a second?” she asked, and the woman filed out of the room, only Sloane pausing to kiss him hard enough his lips were printed with the lipstick she was wearing. When the door shut, she stood, and they stared at one another in comfortable silence.

“You look beautiful,” he finally said, and she laughed, brushing away a tear that threatened to fall. “I’m not kidding, and I’m glad it’s George. I never thought I’d say it, but if the first person who decided to care about me has to marry anyone, I’m glad it’s him.”

“My, my, when did you get so sappy?” she teased, if only to stop herself from shedding more tears and he rolled his eyes.

“Leave it to you to make fun of me for being heartfelt for once,” he replied with the same deadpan expression he always used in response to her teasing. She rolled her eyes and in two steps she was hugging him. He hugged her back and she smiled; it was all she needed to know that everything was going to be perfect. “Listen, this isn’t totally why I’m here,” he said, pulling out of the hug with a mischievous grin.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’m the distraction.”

“The distraction?”

“For this,” he said before spinning her around to a freshly apparated George, wearing a suit and a blindfold. She giggled, stepping forward, barely aware of Draco leaving the room as she took George’s hands in her own.

“Hi George,” she whispered, and she could practically feel him shaking with excitement. She reached up to touch the fabric covering his eyes. “I like the blindfold, very kinky.”

“It’s the only way he would distract them,” he replied, “These people and their traditions.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Doesn’t matter of course, I don’t need to see you to know you look beautiful.” She could only blush, sure if she opened her mouth, he would know how choked up she really was. Even with the blindfold he was entirely too handsome. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty your dress is, because by the end of the night of the night I’m going to rip it off you.”

“I think you mean gently unlace it.”

“Are you marrying someone else today?”

“No.”

“Then when have you ever known me to unwrap something gently?” Now she was glad for the blindfold, that way he couldn’t see how brightly she was blushing. The sound of storming up the stairs caught her off guard and she suddenly felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I can’t wait any longer, kiss me,” she gasped, panicking as the footsteps got closer. While she wanted to admire the little lopsided grin, he gave her, she took his silence as a moment to kiss him before shoving him back as he apparated back to his part of the house. When the door swung open, she was alone once more, only her guilty smile suggesting he had been there.

George landed in his room and ripped off the blindfold. Ron and Draco looked at him and he grinned. Bloody hell, he was lucky. Just as he had said to her, he didn’t need to see her to know that she was the most radiant thing he had ever seen. He just knew, he could sense it by the way her skin touched his and the way she felt when she kissed him. He adjusted his cufflinks, admiring the newest addition to the clock before making his way outside to the tent he had spent all morning.

It had been a task, convincing Hannah to let him decide the decorations, but once she had agreed it had been a breeze. It was easy pleasing the love of his life, especially when he had the best interrogators working in his favor. Sloane had pressed her for details about everything she wanted and then some, finding out all the creative workings of her mind before passing every bit of knowledge over to him. Now, butterflies that left gold trails drifted around the room and vines of orchids twisted into pillars that held up the tent. The white benches held their friends and family, some (his dad) already crying. He made his way around the room, checking to make sure everyone was seated, too nervous to sit around and wait for the ceremony to begin.

At the front, beside his teary father was an empty seat. He stepped forward, wondering who the seat could be saved for when his heart jolted. Emblazoned in gold across the back was the name that had once haunted him, and then a small table card caught his eye. He lifted it up with shaking fingers and almost began to cry in front of the entire congregation. In Hannah’s terrible handwriting were the words, “Wouldn’t want him to miss it.” He looked up, searching for whoever had placed it there and was only met with a wink from Malfoy. He offered him a grateful smile before placing the card down once more and taking his spot at the altar. He hadn’t chosen a best man, knowing that no one could replace who it should have been and having Malfoy as the other groomsman was the last thing he would have expected, but nothing could have been more perfect. No one had protested when the choice was made, and the confused boy had even been invited to family dinner for the rest of eternity.

Suddenly, the music began, and the crowds stood to watch as Caroline and Sloane made their way down the aisle in powder blue dresses. He lovingly shook his head at his soon to be wife. She never failed to surprise and replacing the yellow she never seemed to stop raving about with powder blue was certainly one for the books.

And then there she was, smiling at him like an angel. His eyes filled with tears to match hers, and he let them slide down his face without shame, because there she was, the beginning of profound joy and the end of the tunnel.

The End

[umbrellathoughts]

Enneagram type aesthetics part 2 (healthy)

Enneagram 1: trying a new drink at the bar and loving everything about it. games night with a group of friends you've known forever, knowing they accept you just as you are. sunlight streaking through vintage windows in the early morning. handmade cards with hand lettered calligraphy. morning yoga by the beach. discovering a new favorite poet, reading their writing for hours and feeling totally seen.

Enneagram 2: staying up late and sharing secrets with friends. a backyard barbecue where everyone brings their favourite food to share. sliding your feet into cozy slippers while enjoying a hot cup of tea on a quiet evening. relaxing by the beach with a delicious cocktail and savouring the time to yourself. swiping on the perfect shade of lipstick and knowing you look incredible. a wink from across the bar.

Enneagram 3: waking at dawn to conquer a new hike, getting to the peak and seeing a breathtaking view. going shopping with friends and finding the perfect outfit. going out of your way to compliment people you meet during the day. looking on the bright side and helping others do the same. visiting the local farmer's market and chatting with all your favourite vendors. a pair of killer heels that make your feel powerful and ready for anything.

Enneagram 4: reading a new book well into the early morning. curating the perfect summer wardrobe that looks effortlessly stylish. visiting the local art show and spotting something totally unique, bringing it home to add to your collection. vintage shopping with friends. binging a new show because it perfectly captures your current mood. finishing a project you've been working on for ages and admiring the excellence of your work.

Enneagram 5: spending a summer afternoon in a carefully tended greenhouse full of exotic flowers. kayaking on a glassy lake at sunset with the one person you trust most. spending silent time with friends who just understand. gazing at the velvety evening shy, twinkling with tiny stars. getting lost in a new book series. getting weirdly competitive at games night, but nobody minds. strong espresso in the morning.

Enneagram 6: meeting with old friends for your annual camping trip. a road trip to California because you've always dreamed of driving through the west coast. rewatching your favourite movie and knowing all the best lines. enjoying a quiet evening at the library, thumbing through new books. a fully planned day at a theme park, everything going to plan. throwing on your favorite outfit and just knowing you look great.

Enneagram 7: a well worn notebook, overfilled with ticket stubs, postcards and photographs. a summer concert by the beach. cliffjumping with friends. a slam poetry night. going to a drive-in movie theater. worn-in hiking boots. eating lemon squares and the icing sugar gets stuck on your nose. redoing your bedroom on a whim and nailing the aesthetic. wearing a funky hat to events purely because it's a conversation starter.

Enneagram 8: staying up to watch a warm summer thunderstorm. homemade treats, baked using an ancient family recipe. surfing all day with friends and stumbling back to the hotel exhausted but relaxed and joyful. volunteering at the local animal shelter. iced coffee from your favourite local shop, lingering inside because it has a great vibe. campfires on the beach. well worn boots that fit perfectly and somehow still look amazing. the soothing flicker of a candle in the evening.

Enneagram 9: tending to your houseplants and watching them patiently flourish. sitting by the ocean just to listen to the waves and watch the marine life scurry in and out of tide pools. a casual, slow brunch date with friends. stopping by a block party and making new friends. a live music night at your favorite local bar. a heartfelt conversation with an old friend. baking a comforting desert in the evening and savouring every bite.

[vbeachchick]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 💜 New Tarte Heartfelt Rose Red LipSurgence Lip Creme Cream 💄.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Neverending Story

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language 

Summary: Y/N met her husband unexpectedly, and their subsequent relationship has been anything but predictable. But Changbin has always agreed to give Y/N whatever she wanted, but that is suddenly put to the test when Y/N takes things a step too far.

Note: The Holy Trinity of 3racha Married AUs is complete. @lordseochangbin​ I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you, but this is the fic inspired by that gifset from earlier this week.

Han Jisung had promised me a substantial raise, but after looking out over the podium to appraise the crowd of rich businessmen, I suddenly regretted ever agreeing to work for him in the first place. Because my boss was currently lying in his fancy upstate apartment dying of the flu while I was standing in his place with cue cards in hand to deliver an eloquent speech to a bunch of men who would probably laugh at my expense. But let’s also not forget to mention the fact that I’ve always been extremely introverted which meant that public speaking equated to sweat-drenched palms and the nervous sway to my gait as I rocked back and forth on my feet with hands behind my back.

 “Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, wincing when my voice echoed over the speakers. Apparently, the audio feedback in this ballroom was something out of the early 20th century before people had figured out how to work a sound system. “On behalf of Mr. Han,” I said, resisting the urge to lick away the last remnants of my cheap lipstick. “He would like to thank everyone for their support with his new summer project.”

A light smattering of applause, probably from those arrogant benefactors who liked to come into the office to kiss Jisung’s ass and compliment him on all of his successes. They didn’t mean a single word of the bullshit spewing from their mouths, especially the women who openly gaped at him right in front of my desk. “In regards to the company’s s-stocks,” I said, stuttering over the word while fumbling with my notecards. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous, mind working a mile a minute as I tried to desperately compose myself.

And because everything was already progressing this poorly, I started to lose my grip on the stack of notecards aiding my speech, watching as they fell to the ground and spread completely out of order. I immediately dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the notecards back into my grasp before inwardly cursing Han Jisung for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. I managed to collect the notecards together on top of the podium before gazing out into the unamused collection of wealthy aristocrats. “I’m sure it had something to do with fourth-quarter profits,” I said while clearing my throat. “Thank you for coming.”

I rushed off the stage without another word, drenched in sweat and failure, determined to make it out of the building before someone else could comment on the unfortunate incident. It reminded me of a similar calamity involving my asshole of an ex-boyfriend who had left me high and dry at one of his seminars to apologize to the people who paid to see his lecture. Why were the men in my life always determined to embarrass me?

With rapid steps, I was nearly out the door before an unfamiliar hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I paused with a wince, turning around to look at the rather handsome gentleman who was waiting patiently behind me. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, assuming he must have something to do with the event. I’m sure he was not pleased with my humiliating display, especially when tonight's proceedings had been touted as a professional gathering. “Mr. Han couldn’t make it tonight and I was trying to fill in for him. Please don’t let this reflect badly on the company.”

A smirk graced his sharp features. “Don’t apologize. I thought it was great.”

“Excuse me?”

“The speech was great,” the man continued, dark hair falling into his eyes like a curtain. He let go of my wrist before offering me a more professional greeting. “Seo Changbin.”

“Seo?” I repeated, searching my mind for any mention of that name. I dealt with a lot of rich men when it came to scouring the city for potential leads, sorting through dozens of profiles every day I walked into the office. Usually with a cup of coffee in hand because Jisung wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.

“I own a line of hotel chains,” Changbin nodded. “Does that sound more familiar?”

His tone was teasing. “I do remember now, Mr. Seo.”

“Ah, don’t call me that,” he insisted. “You don’t have to put on an act like the others.”

I smiled at his easy-going nature. “Well, I’m glad you were at least entertained by my speech.”

Changbin glanced up at the door behind me. “Were you leaving already?”

I followed his gaze, albeit more hesitantly now. “I was planning to.”

“Good,” Changbin said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned in closer. “Mind if I join you?”

I was flushed for an entirely new reason now. “I would be honored.”

Han Jisung was the greatest employer in the world, and I would do everything in my power to serve as his PA in the future. Because I would owe Jisung a million heartfelt expressions of gratitude for asking me to deliver a speech in his absence. Leading me to one of the most gorgeous men I had ever met since the insanely attractive graduate student who served as a TA for my college writing seminar.

But it was hard to think about Jisung, or anything rational for that matter when my legs were practically bent at my chest, lungs devoid of oxygen while Seo Changbin proceeded to fuck me into the mattress. It was a really nice mattress too, compliments of the fancy hotel suite he had reserved for the weekend. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was a very wealthy man who had way too many muscles and a cock that stretched the sensitive walls of my pussy with every subsequent thrust deep inside to the point where it felt like he was spearing me against the bed. 

Not that I minded in the slightest as I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his back, moaning loudly against his shoulder. It was completely unfair for someone to look this good, and I had nearly lost my mind when he had crawled between my legs, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal an upper-body straight out of the Men’s Health magazine. Because fate had deemed me fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fuck someone who belonged in my erotic fantasies, dick heavy on my tongue as I blew him under the desk in his office. 

“Changbin,” I groaned, thighs trembling from their current position. 

“You’re cumming, aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice thick with lust and an irresistible baritone.

“Yes,” I managed around a gasp because Changbin had started to thumb across my clit with practiced movements, intentions perfectly clear as he leaned back to watch the way my back arched towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had made me cum like that and I was still high from the effects of my orgasm while Changbin chased his release with several more slow grinds in exaggerated succession before filling the condom with a grunt.

I was fighting for air, sweat dripping from my bangs as Changbin fell onto the bed next to me. “How long have you been working out?”

Changbin chuckled. “Since high school.”

“It really shows,” I said, twisting my head to the side because I couldn't get enough of his firm biceps.

Changbin reached across the bed, fingers sliding through his cum dripping from the folds of my labia. “I haven’t asked for your number yet, Y/N.”

My entire body lit with excitement at his words because there was a very obvious intention in such an innocent comment. It meant that Changbin wanted to see me again, and I would give absolutely anything to feel his cock sliding in and out at his own luxury. Of course, there would be a lot of things he would come to ask me for in the future and very rarely would I ever tell him no, especially once he slipped a gorgeous diamond ring onto my finger.

I would also come to learn that there are few things my husband cannot resist in this world and the opportunity to fuck me over the kitchen counter was definitely one of them. I rarely woke up early enough to cook breakfast, so on the rare chance that I managed to obey my alarm clock, I would trudge into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Changbin’s college t-shirts to pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge. It was the least I could do for my husband since he was always the more romantic one in our relationship.

Lured by the smell of coffee and bacon, Changbin found me in the kitchen, twisting my shirt around my waist to push his cock deep inside. Bracing my elbows against the rough marble of the countertop, I did my best to spread my legs wide for him because nothing felt better in the morning than Changbin fucking me from behind, fingers digging bruises into the skin of my hip bones. “Where did this come from?” I gasped because Changbin had figured out how to roll his hips just right to grind my clit against the side of the worn surface. 

“When you walk around the apartment wearing nothing but a shirt,” Changbin said, growling at my ear. “I have to fuck you like the little slut you want to be.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” I smirked, receiving a firm smack on my ass for my sarcastic question.

“Is that what you want?” Changbin asked, encouraged by my loud moans. 

“What if I showed up to your office dressed like this?”

“You better not,” he grumbled, hands sliding up my shirt to squeeze my breasts. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Greedy,” I moaned, pushing back against him because I was desperately chasing a good orgasm.

“It’s your fault,” Changbin said, picking up the pace once he started detecting the familiar signs of my impending release. But at this point in time, we knew everything about one another’s bodies. And Changbin always managed to hit even deeper, reaching further and further inside with every aggressive meeting of our hips, the lewd sounds mingling with our moans.

“I was feeling particularly horny this morning,” I replied, finally letting go after a strategic thrust that snapped the chord anchoring me to reality. Changbin followed soon after, grinding his cock as he rode out his own orgasm. And despite my oversensitivity, Changbin ignored my whines and shoved his cum back where it belonged. 

“Alright, Mrs. Seo,” he said, chuckling at the sluggish way I pulled myself back onto my feet, shirt falling back into place. “Will you shower with me before I go to work?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I guess I’ll just have you instead,” he said and I grimaced at the cheesy comment.

Jisung was always late in the mornings, but he could get away with it because nobody would criticize the CEO. But his status didn’t mean that Minho, Jisung’s closest advisor, was any less of a nuisance when he complained to anyone who would listen. Which was often me because my desk was located right next to Jisung’s office. “It’s like he doesn’t care,” Minho whined.

I nodded my head slowly, focused on responding to the emails flooding my inbox. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Minho immediately opposed. “He’s just lazy! I get up every morning at the crack of dawn to come into the office. Why can’t he do the same?”

I glanced up wearily to reply because Minho was probably expecting me to agree with everything he was saying. Graciously, I was relieved of that unnecessary burden when I saw Seungmin walking in our direction. “Minnie!”

I waved him down desperately and he offered me a smile with his cell phone in hand. “Y/N,” he said, handing me the device from over the counter, blatantly ignoring a sour Minho. “My dog had her puppies.”

I immediately cooed at the sight of the tiny little Dalmations, squealing at the sight of their tiny ears. “Seungmin, they’re adorable!”

The younger boy grinned. “You know you’d be the first person on my list since I’m looking for new homes.”

“I don’t know, Seungmin,” I said, reluctantly returning his phone. “Changbin would be really mad if I brought home a dog.”

“Changbin? Mad at you?” Seungmin scoffed. “That’s impossible, Y/N.”

“Changbin gives you whatever you want,” Minho added as if unable to resist jumping into our conversation.

“But not this,” I said. “One time, I thought it might be nice to bring home a fish for the apartment, but when Changbin saw it on the coffee table, he complained for hours about how gross they were. If I even mention a dog, Changbin immediately changes the subject.”

“Well, I guess it never hurts to ask,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “But they really do need new homes. They’ll be old enough in a few weeks to leave their mother.”

“Don’t try to talk me into this,” I said, shooting him a glare. “You know I have a weak resolve.”

“What if you at least come over this afternoon to see them?” Seungmin asked as if blatantly ignoring my last demand.

“Can I come too?” Minho asked. “You know how boring it gets around here.”

“As long as you can at least pretend you might take one,” Seungmin said. “I’m sure your cats would be thrilled.”

“My cats are angels,” Minho said. “They would love a new friend.”

“To torment,” I said. “Won’t they get jealous when you give the puppy all of your attention?”

“My babies know how to share,” Minho replied. “They were taught well.”

“I’d hate to see you as a teacher,” Seungmin said, receiving a glare in response.

The conversation ended there, but the subject remained a heavy point of focus for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the puppies, finding myself distracted during the most menial of tasks. I even managed to completely ignore Jisung’s greeting because I was so lost in my thoughts. Subsequently, my boss had stood at the front of my desk to snap his fingers in my line of vision. “Y/N?”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized immediately, blushing because I knew I should be focused on my work.

And I knew that agreeing to visit Seungmin’s puppies would definitely be a horrible idea. The minute they looked at me with adorable button noses and innocent eyes, I would be breaking down and demanding to have one for myself. I knew this would happen, but I still tortured myself and drove with Seungmin back to his apartment, falling in love a dozen times over with each and every single puppy who subsequently chewed on my frayed sandals or plopped themselves right in the middle of my lap. “You’ve ruined me,” I told Seungmin because there was no way I wasn’t bringing home a puppy and that only meant trouble. 

Changbin absolutely hated the idea of pets and had repeatedly denied me every time we walked past a pet shelter or saw a dog during our walks through the park. I could never understand why he was so adamantly opposed, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that he was an obsessive clean freak who liked everything in his life to be controlled. Puppies were a factor one simply couldn’t plan for and they tended to possess destructive tendencies, especially when it came to the things they really believed were toys instead of expensive shoes.

“I’ll call you when you can pick one up,” Seungmin said, following me to the door of his apartment. 

“What am I doing?” I groaned loudly, pointing an accusing finger in Seungmin’s direction. “I’m holding you personally accountable.”

Seungmin offered me a grin. “Tell Changbin to call me.”

Eight weeks later, I chose a strategic day when I knew Changbin would be coming home late from work because of a board meeting. Subsequently, I snuck the small Dalmatian puppy upstairs into our apartment, holding tight to its wriggling body before she immediately made her presence known the moment I put her down on the floor. “Don’t pee there,” I said, ushering her away from the pricey carpet Changbin had bought for the foyer.

My plan was to hide her in the guest bathroom, praying that she would keep from barking too loudly when Changbin came home. “Changbin’s going to kill me,” I thought to myself while opening the door for the excited puppy who ran inside to smell the low hanging duvet with curiosity. 

Changbin rarely raised his voice around me, and I could only think of a few incidents where Changbin and I had truly fought. Most of the time, it was because of his mother who quite simply hated the idea of her son being with someone who didn’t come from money. There was also the issue of me working for Jisung because Changbin would prefer it if I stayed at home, but that definitely wasn’t happening. I stood my ground against him, making my case until he had reluctantly relented, muttering something about how he had enough money to take care of both of us.

However, in neither of those cases had I ever went behind Changbin’s back to do something that I knew he would hate. Of course, I had also never wanted something as bad as the adorable puppy who had stolen my heart the minute she first wagged her tail while I carefully stroked the soft fur of her ears. “Changbin will understand,” I said to the puppy who cocked her head to the side as she watched me. “For now you can stay in here until I think of a better way to introduce you.”

Bang Chan was one of those people who never acted like he had enough money to buy the entire city of New York. He was funny and laid back, laughing with everyone despite whether or not they were a big donor or just an employee. He was one of Changbin’s best friends and he always invited the two of us to his parties at his extravagant condo. As an invitation-only affair, Chan’s parties had become the envy of anyone who was denied the opportunity to attend. More often than not, the parties became a friendly get-together which meant that some of Changbin’s other friends would also be attending. But Hyunjin and Felix always drank way too much beer to be considered appropriate for what was deemed a “suit and tie only” event.

“You look gorgeous,” Changbin said as we waited outside the door. 

“Well, it’s hard not to look good in this dress,” I said because, despite my refusal, Changbin had insisted on buying it for me. Then again, I still wasn’t quite used to watching Changbin pull out his credit card for something that cost nearly half a million dollars. 

“Aren’t you glad I bought it?” Changbin asked, reaching over to finger the delicate lace outlining the dress’ neckline.

“I’ll be even more satisfied when you take it off later,” I said casually, smirking at his sharp inhale as the door suddenly opened to reveal Chan standing on the other side.

“You’re late!” he lightly chastised us, pulling Changbin inside by the hand with more force than necessary. I grinned at the affectionate display, removing my jacket for the server who waited next to the entryway adorned in an elegant suit. “How was the meeting?” Chan asked, making easy conversation as he led us to a nearby waiter holding a tray of flutes filled with champagne. 

“They liked the presentation,” Changbin replied, handing me a glass. “I think some of the new trustees favored the last approach.”

“Of course they do,” Chan nodded. “But you know that you can do whatever you want. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone.”

“I know,” Changbin said, curling an arm around my waist to keep me close to his side. Not that I minded considering the sea of unfamiliar faces who all swarmed to Changbin like he was a celebrity. I guess in their world he was, but it might be funny to tell them about how soft he got after I jerked him off under the sheets. 

You see, Chan was the general manager of Changbin’s largest hotel and he always did his best to ease the burden that Changbin took responsibility for as he oversaw dozens of hotels and thousands of employees. Felix and Hyunjin also helped where they could, not just as friends but as personal assistants to Changbin at the main office. And I happen to know from experience that nobody made a better cup of coffee than Hwang Hyunjin. 

Felix was also dating one of my best friends who I had introduced him to while Changbin and I were still dating, inviting a plus one for the grand opening of his very first hotel expansion. I was surprised when Felix demonstrated just how loving he could be because Changbin often told me horror stories of Felix’s more play boyish tendencies back when they went to college together. However, Felix had been nothing but polite and loving towards my friend since the moment the two first met over a few too many glasses of wine.

“Rina,” I smiled warmly, graciously accepting her invitation to talk outside on Chan’s balcony because the party was suffocating inside. 

“Let me see the pictures!” my friend squealed, practically jerking the cell phone from my grasp. “Cute!” Rina declared, scrolling through my camera roll. “And Changbin doesn’t know? I really do admire you.”

“Well, if you were any louder, he might find out,” I said, checking over my shoulder to ensure that Changbin was still in deep conversation with Felix. “I heard you visited Felix’s parents the other day.”

Rina groaned, handing me back my phone. “I’m pretty sure they hate me. I made the worst impression possible.”

“What did you do?” I asked, rolling my eyes because Rina had a tendency to go overboard.

“Well, for one thing, when his mother asked for help with the food, I may have accidentally started a small kitchen fire.”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter if the fire is small or not.”

“Yeah,” Rina agreed sheepishly.

“Does that mean things are okay with between you and Felix?” I took a sip of my wine, thinking my question innocent enough until I heard Rina let out a shaky breath. “What is it?”

Rina shook her head, leaning out over the balcony. “Felix is acting weird these days. He comes home late now and he doesn’t bother paying me much attention.”

“Felix?” I immediately questioned because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same boy who bought every single bouquet of roses in the flower shop on Main Street for their anniversary.

Rina suddenly moved in closer, eyes carefully ensuring that no voices were potentially listening. “I think Felix is cheating on me.”

“Rina,” I gasped because the accusation was incredibly serious. “Why would you think that? After he just took you home to his parents?”

“I think he just did that because I kept insisting,” Rina huffed. “I’m serious here, Y/N. There’s something going on with him.”

I wracked my brain for any indication that Felix might have said something to offer justification for Rina’s claim. “But how can you be sure?”

“I can’t,” Rina said. “That’s why I’m going into the office tomorrow night.”

“The office?”

“He’s probably meeting her there.”

“Who?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Rina hissed. “Felix comes home really late all of a sudden and he doesn’t talk to me about why?”

“That’s just how Felix is.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Rina said, dismissing my comment. “I’m planning to follow him. See what he’s really doing.”

“Rina, this sounds like a horrible idea.”

“As bad as sneaking a dog into Changbin’s apartment?”

“They can’t even be compared,” I exclaimed. “And I plan to tell Changbin about the dog.”

“Good luck with that,” Rina sneered, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass. “Can you at least come with me tomorrow?”

“To spy on Felix?”

“As a precaution,” Rina said as if that improved the situation.

“Rina, you need to trust Felix. I don’t think he would do anything like this to hurt you.”

“Please, Y/N,” Rina said, reaching out for my hand. “Best friends are supposed to come before boys.”

“Don’t use that against me,” I said. “Besides, how do you expect us to just sneak into the office?”

“Leave that to me,” Rina said, patting my shoulder as if to show her appreciation. “Just tell your man that we’re going out for the night.”

“Fine, but you owe me big time.”

Nevertheless, why did it have to be so cold for our impromptu spy mission?

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I commented dryly, gazing out at Changbin’s office building from across the street. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”

“Not with that attitude,” Rina said. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose I have no choice,” I grumbled.

“Felix didn’t respond to my last message,” Rina said, already making her way out of the car. “But I saw that he was parked in the garage.”

“Changbin’s still here too,” I said with a shiver because I had been desperately hoping that my husband would leave on time for once. However, the moment he found out that I was going out with Rina, he called up Hyunjin and told him that tonight would make a great time to work on their new project. “At least he won’t accidentally wander into the guest bedroom and find Jane in the bathroom.”

“Wouldn’t that be hilarious though?” Rina giggled. “Changbin is going to throw a fit when he finds that dog.”

“He hasn’t noticed anything so far,” I said, although he came very close to suspicion in bed the other night when he realized that something that sounded a lot like barking was emanating through the walls.

“Y/N, you can’t hide that dog forever, but I need your full attention tonight,” Rina said, snapping her fingers while she pointed at the office near the top where Felix worked. “I have someone on the inside who’s gonna help us.”

I had a bad feeling about this mysterious insider that was only confirmed the moment Jeongin stepped outside to greet us at the front. “That figures,” I muttered because Jeongin practically idolized Rina who always showered him in affection. If Rina and Felix weren’t so obviously in love, Jeongin would be the first person to show up on Rina’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Changbin and Hyunjin are in a meeting,” Jeongin explained as he led us to the elevators. “Felix should still be in his office, but he mentioned something about leaving before I came downstairs.”

Jeongin was also Felix’s intern and I highly doubted that he would appreciate the younger’s blatant participation in Rina’s witch hunt. “Perfect,” Rina nodded. “Now tell Y/N about that woman that Felix keeps meeting with.”

Jeongin turned to me with a gasp. “I have no idea who she is, Y/N, but she’s showed up every day this week!”

“See!” Rina exclaimed, waving her hands around like she had suddenly solved the world’s greatest crisis.

“I don’t see anything,” I told her, stoically unmoved when we arrived at our designated floor. “Felix meets with a lot of people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but he kinda works for a pretty big business.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rina declared, heels loudly clicking against the floor as we followed our newly appointed Jeongin tour guide. He led us to one of the desks outside of Felix’s office, searching through some reports until he found what he was looking for, handing it to Rina. “This is the last spreadsheet for all the transactions from Felix’s company credit card.”

“They’re from the same restaurant,” Rina said, reading over the list with narrowed eyes. 

“Business meetings,” I said.

“Or, he’s treating this homewrecker to sushi and bad soju,” Rina said. “What else do you have, Jeongin?”

The younger boy obediently knelt down to open another drawer, but let out a little gasp when he jerked on Rina’s arm and forced the two of them on the floor. “Get down!” he hissed, but I reacted late to his sudden warning, realizing my mistake a moment too late when Changbin was already calling my name from somewhere to my right. 

“Distract him,” Rina whispered urgently, tugging on my jeans.

I rolled my eyes but tried to put on my best smile when Changbin stopped on the other side of Jeongin’s desk. “Y/N,” he said, clearly surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d visit you on my way home,” I lied smoothly, resisting the urge to kick out at Rina in her vulnerable position.

“Where’s Rina?” he asked, arms flexing enticingly in his tight-fit shirt.

“Probably at home,” I said, before trying on my best pout. “Are you not happy to see me?”

Changbin’s expression immediately softened. “Of course I am, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you came by. I’m leaving soon so we can ride home together.”

“Perfect,” I said, stepping away from the desk to eagerly lead Changbin further away from where my best friend was hiding. I also didn’t stop him when his strong arms encouraged me into the firm expanse of his chest, cologne heavy against his neck. 

“Do you need anything?” Changbin asked while calling for the elevator. 

I glanced over his shoulder at Jeongin who was trying to tell me something, but I quickly determined that he would be really bad at the whisper challenge. “I’m okay,” I said, clutching tightly to his arm as led me downstairs.

Seungmin and Minho were acceptable lunch buddies and despite their near-constant arguing, I still sat with them in the company’s cafeteria, enjoying whatever organic food they planned to serve that day. “How is the puppy, Y/N?” Seungmin asked over a mouthful of potatoes.

“She’s great,” I said, unable to resist a smile at the thought of my charming new friend.

“Does Changbin know?”

“Not yet,” I said, hesitantly poking at my salad. “But I have a plan to fix that tonight.”

“Is that so?” Minho butted in, studying me from across the table. “Maybe he could buy you a new apartment across the city.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Because I plan to thoroughly convince him.”

“Sounds like an innuendo to me,” Minho said, reaching out for my hand. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve finally figured out the real purpose of marriage.”

“Manipulation,” Seungmin concluded.

“Stop it you two,” I groaned. “I’m not manipulating Changbin.”

“Seduction sounds like manipulation to me.”

“I’m merely encouraging him to change his mind,” I said, ignoring their unnecessary commentary.

“By dicking him down, I get it,” Minho nodded. “I’ve done the same things to my girlfriends.”

“No wonder you’re still single,” Seungmin said earning him a flick across his forehead. “Ow!”

“I’m sure Changbin has affection for animals somewhere deep down inside,” I continued. “He’ll be so much happier with a dog around the apartment.”

“Or he’ll be really furious,” Seungmin said. “I guess if you really need to return the puppy, I can always take her back.”  

“No,” I whined at the thought. “We’ve already bonded.”

“Well, if it comes down between your bond with man’s best friend and the man, which would you rather choose?” Minho asked.

I really hated them both sometimes.

There were three things that Seo Changbin truly loved: 1. His family 2. His wife and 3. His wife in lingerie. Which is exactly what he was going to get the moment he stepped inside that door. Because tonight, I needed to do everything in my power to appeal to him.

I nodded in satisfaction as I studied my appearance in the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the thin fabric of my stockings as they ran up the expanse of my thighs, attached to the garter belt Changbin had bought me for my birthday. Once I was satisfied, I tugged on a silky black robe, loosely tying the belt around the middle. “Perfect,” I declared.

Next, I made sure that Changbin’s favorite food was ready, table set with our finest cutlery. I also pulled out his favorite wine, filling two glasses while keeping the bottle cool in a bucket of ice. Finally, I lit a few candles around the table and the perimeter of the dining room, trying for a romantic mood since Changbin was secretly a huge fun of those extravagances.

“Do it for Jane, Y/N,” I whispered to myself, flinching when I heard the sound of Changbin’s key in the lock.

My husband called out my name and I directed him to the dining room, pleased when his eyes immediately froze on my attire. “Y/N?”

“Binnie,” I grinned, taking a seat on the edge of the table, kicking out one of the chairs as an invitation. “I made your favorite.”

Changbin tugged at the tie messily wrapped around his collar, taking my hint and planting himself down next to me. One hand caressed my exposed leg through the fabric of my robe while he looked up at me with dark eyes. “What’s all this for?”

“For you, of course,” I smiled, reaching back to grab a strawberry, holding it up to his lips.

Changbin took the offered fruit, eyes never leaving mine. “Is there something you want, Y/N?”

Changbin knew me too well, but I kept up the act, sliding down the table and into his lap. My thighs were planted on either side of his body and Changbin delicately traced the lace lining of my stockings to the place where they disappeared beneath fabric. “Does there have to be a reason?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No,” Changbin agreed, eager hands working the belt of my robe. “But there usually is.” He was silent for a moment as he drew the sleeves down my shoulders, leaving me completely on display for his eyes to leisurely explore. “You can tell me, honey.”

“I can?” I asked breathlessly, planting kisses across his forehead while his fingers dug into my ass to pull me even closer.

“Whatever you want,” Changbin agreed, hands smoothing across the skin of my stomach while he started to slowly grind his hips against mine. He was impossibly hard beneath the tight material of his fitted slacks, cock moving perfectly in time with the little moans he forced out of me. I was practically drooling at the thought of Changbin’s cock, stretching my lips across the head and tasting his precum. 

“Binnie,” I gasped, jittery fingers working apart the buttons on his shirt to reveal the smooth skin of his chest, groping my hands against his defined pectoral muscles.

“Yeah, baby?” he said, reaching up to taste my lips. “You want me to fuck you on the table?”

“Please,” I whimpered, holding onto his biceps to feel his impossible strength while he practically manhandled me into place, looming over my trembling body while his eyes made a luxury trip of exploring my exposed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist to encourage him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock...

“Did you hear that?”

I froze under him, detecting resistance from Changbin whose eyes were now devoid of lust as he lifted his head in concentration. It was then that I heard it, an alarmingly loud whine from Jane in the guest bedroom which was suddenly way too close to ignore. 

Changbin immediately stopped everything he was doing. “Please tell me you can hear it too?”

“Hear what?” I asked nervously, attempting to draw his attention back to me and it might have worked had Jane not decided to let out a series of playful barks and I suddenly regretted leaving her alone with a new toy.

“It’s something,” Changbin said, tone much darker as he ordered me to unwrap my legs from their vicelike grip around his waist. I obeyed hesitantly because my plan was falling apart at the seams and I had a bad feeling about what might happen next. 

Slowly, I followed him as he marched to the guest bedroom, opening the door like a man on a mission. And I doubt I’ll ever forget the way Jane immediately darted from the bathroom, sniffing Changbin’s shoes before waddling in my direction, plastic bone hanging from her mouth. “Y/N,” Changbin said, watching me as I picked up Jane off the floor. “Do you mind explaining to me why there’s a dog in the guest room?”

“It’s nothing bad,” I said, holding even tighter to Jane. “I may have adopted her-”

“What!” Changbin cut me off with a sharp interrogative. “How long has it been living here?”

“She,” I corrected him, “has been living here for a week or so...”

“A week!” Changbin exclaimed. “You’ve kept a dog hidden in here for a week?”

“Well, I didn’t plan on hiding her forever,” I said, fingers moving nervously through Jane’s soft fur.

“Get rid of it,” Changbin barked, looking every bit the intimidating CEO whose annual salary easily eclipsed my entire family net worth.

“Changbin,” I said softly. “Please don’t say that.”

“This is my house,” Changbin growled. “And I will not have it trashed by that thing.”

“I thought it was my house too?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

Changbin seemed taken aback, but he was not deterred for long. “Of course it is, but you know I don’t want any animals living here.”

“But she’s really clean,” I said. “And I’m training her every day!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin snapped. “I want to see it gone tomorrow morning, do you understand?”

“Changbin,” I whimpered, eyes clouding with the promise of tears. “You said you’d give me whatever I want.”

I know it sounds selfish, but I was growing increasingly desperate as it became more and more apparent that Changbin had already made up his mind. “I meant something like clothes, Y/N,” Changbin said. “Not a living pest.”

“She’s not a pest,” I insisted. “Jane is really sweet.”

“Oh great, you’ve named it,” Changbin grumbled, reaching for his cellphone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Animal control,” Changbin muttered and I immediately reacted.

“Don’t call them!” I exclaimed. “At least give her a better home than that horrible place.”

“Then find her one,” Changbin said. “You get one week before I handle it myself.”

“What an asshole,” I snarled. 

“I agree,” Rina nodded, offering Jane a few treats when my puppy clambered onto the sofa next to us. In spite of Changbin’s dismissal, I found a refugee for both myself and Jane in Rina’s shared apartment with Felix. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. Changbin can’t possibly be that averse to something so cute.”

“It’s not like I brought home a child,” I said, frowning at my phone screen when Changbin sent yet another text message. “I hope he knows I’m not coming home tonight. If he kicks Jane out, then I’m leaving too.”

“You can keep me company instead,” Rina said. “Felix never comes around anymore so it’s just like college again.”

“Except we have more than just ramen in the kitchen.”

“Not to mention this sweetie,” Rina added, lifting Jane into her arms. “Who needs a man around anyway?”

“At least your man is okay with Jane living here for a few days,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask Seungmin to take her back.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Y/N,” Rina sighed. “It’s unfortunate that Changbin hates the puppies. I’d even keep Jane for myself but I think she’d be much happier with someone who isn’t prone to forgetting to even feed herself.”

I snorted. “That would be better than the pound. Can you believe he tried to call animal control?”

“Seo Changbin?” Rina snickered. “Nothing he does surprises me. This is the same person who rented out an entire restaurant just to propose to you.”

“Don’t bring up our happy memories,” I complained. “I’m supposed to be mad at him right now.”

“Then be mad at him,” Rina shrugged. “Honestly speaking, if he can’t see how important this is to you, then he doesn’t deserve to call you his wife in the first place.”

“This isn’t a deal-breaker,” I said. “I just wish he would understand how I feel.”

“Analytical types like Changbin are incapable of empathy,” Rina said. “It’s a proven fact, Y/N. He’ll still think he’s right when the two of you are retired somewhere in a tropical paradise.”

“Ugh, he’s so stubborn.”

“Takes after his mother in that regard,” Rina said. “Remember at your wedding? She bawled her eyes out after giving that horrible speech where she basically implied that you were stealing away her only son.”

“She’s the mistress of Evil,” I nodded. “They share that characteristic. Both of them can be downright mean when they want to be.”

“I guess that’s why Changbin has been so successful,” Rina said. “Still doesn’t take away from the fact that he sometimes seems to forget you're his wife and not a stockholder.”

I let out a deep breath. “What about you and Felix?”

“Oh, he’s still distant and I’m half-way convinced that I’m being replaced by a supermodel with bigger tits.”

“I don’t think Felix would be that shallow.”

“I know,” Rina said, palming her breasts through her shirt. “They’re pretty big, right?”

“He doesn’t care about that,” I said. “And if I wasn’t so pissed at Changbin, I might ask him about this mystery girl.”

“We’ll have to go through the middle man,” she said, offering me a knowing look.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” we both agreed in perfect synchronization.

Luring Hyunjin out of the office building was as easy as promising a free lunch at his favorite restaurant. And when Hyunjin discovered that he would be meeting with both myself and Rina, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Because Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most overdramatic people I knew and he never missed an opportunity to ensconce himself in everyone else's problems. “You know, Y/N,” he said through a sip of wine. “It would be nice if you at least pretended to like Changbin. He’s always intolerable at the office whenever the two of you fight.”

“I can’t even pretend to like him right now,” I said. “And, if you feel so inclined, you can pass on the message to him that I won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Hyunjin said, but it was impossible to miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. “Should I?”

“You can kick Changbin’s ass for all we care,” Rina said, already working through her third glass of chardonnay. 

“But, of course, that’s not the reason we invited you here,” I said, earning me a curious look in return.

“It’s about Felix,” Rina said through gritted teeth. “And don’t bother trying to cover for him, Hyunjin, because you’re a terrible liar.”

“What did he do wrong this time?” Hyunjin scoffed, seemingly indifferent as he took a bite of his organic salad.

“That blonde he keeps meeting in the office,” Rina said, always ready to get straight to the matter at hand. “Who the hell is she?”

Hyunjin visibly blanched, choking on his current mouthful while desperately trying to wash down the rest of his glass. “What?”

“The. Blonde,” Rina repeated. “I know everything, so don’t try to hide the truth from me.”

“If you knew everything, you wouldn’t be asking me,” Hyunjin pointed out.

“Just tell me who she is!” Rina exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of several tables.

Hyunjin wilted under their accusatory stares. “I can’t tell you.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Rina started, hands clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your friend’s extracurricular affairs.”

“Felix isn’t cheating on you,” Hyunjin snapped. “I can’t believe you would even think that.”

“It’s not hard to,” Rina defended herself, “when everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I feel like I’m in the middle of something but I’m not even allowed to know what it is!”

“Rina,” Hyunjin tried again, tone visibly calmer. “Trust me on this. Felix isn’t cheating on you and everything will start to make a lot of sense.”

I studied my friend, but she seemed completely unmoved, expression fierce as she glared down at her untouched plate of food.

My mother’s house was located almost an hour away from where Changbin and I lived in the city. My visits were less frequent because of the combination of distance and my inability to leave work early because Jisung couldn’t handle the office without me. But, since I needed someone to take care of Jane, I knew my mother might be the best solution. She also didn’t hesitate when I asked to spend the night away from Changbin. However, my mother was prone to exceeding selfishness when it came to spending time with me.

In any case, it was the last time I would be able to get away with my nightly escapades because Rina had brought me an invitation that morning to join herself, Felix, and several of their friends for a getaway at the beach. I reluctantly agreed to come since Felix insisted that it was important and Rina demanded she has her “partner in crime” next to her side all weekend. But I would be expected to share a room with Changbin which meant we would either argue even more or ignore each other awkwardly at every available opportunity.

The last time Changbin and I went anywhere with Felix and Rina was back when Changbin first started the company. We ended up stuck inside our hotel because it rained endlessly for the entire week we visited the Florida Keys. On the plus side, I did manage to watch a lot of good movies at the theatre, including a horror classic that was made even better when Changbin decided to stick his hand up my skirt. I’m pretty sure the couple next to us knew exactly what we were doing, and it was worth it to watch their expressions when I accidentally moaned during an intense scene involving a ghost and a clueless teenager.

Nevertheless, I usually loved going on trips with Changbin because he always planned the best surprises. Too bad he had already ruined this one because of his, for lack of a better term, “assholish” tendencies. And poor Jane shouldn’t have to suffer along with everyone else just because my husband hated cute animals.

“Y/N,” my mother grinned brightly, encouraging me inside while I carried Jane in my arms. “Isn’t she adorable!”

“At least some people think so,” I grumbled, putting Jane on the floor so that she could make herself comfortable.

“I can’t believe Changbin told you to get rid of her.”

“Really?” I huffed, leaning against the wall. “You were the one that warned me he would be, and I quote, a pompous ass.”

“Well,” my mother grimaced, “I thought he might prove me wrong.”

“And I’ll be stuck in the same room with him all weekend,” I groaned. “Felix and Rina owe me big time.”

“Or,” my mother allowed, “maybe you should thank them. The trip is a good opportunity to put this argument to rest.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Honestly, Y/N, I know he was harsh, but you’re the one who went and got a dog behind his back. Plus, Jane can just stay here with me. It gives you a good excuse to visit more often.”

“You’re only saying that because you got a cute new puppy,” I muttered.

“Sweetheart,” my mother cooed, carefully guiding me to the counter. “I’ll always have your back, and I’d like to believe that I’m still the only person who can take care of you, but I think Changbin stole that title a long time ago.”

“He’s just infuriating sometimes,” I said.

My mother laughed. “All men are, Y/N, and you know you’ll have fights with Changbin. That’s what married couples do. The important thing is that the two of you can always come back together and forgive, even if the matter at hand is this cute.”

I grinned when my mother reached down to collect Jane into her arms. “I still don’t get how someone can hate a puppy.”

“Perhaps not hate,” my mother said. “But you should respect his opinion, even if you don’t agree with it.”

“He never asks me for anything,” I sighed. “I guess I made this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you definitely get that from me,” my mother said. “Now, about you spending the night...”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled. “I should go back home.”

“It’s not exactly mature of you to run away from him,” my mother pointed out as if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. “And it only makes it that much harder to fix things when you keep avoiding them.”

“Fine, I’ll go home,” I said, pulling out my phone to send Changbin a brief message. “You’re all wise and old now.”

My mother frowned. “Sweetheart, I don’t consider myself old.”

“Mom, the last time we went shopping, you had me come pick you up at the mall entrance because you didn’t feel like walking to the car.”

“Well, everyone has those days,” my mother said. “In any case, I should find somewhere for Jane to stay. Her mom is certainly welcome to come over any time.”

“Pretty sure her mom is Seungmin, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, lifting Jane from the ground to bring her closer. “You won’t forget about me, right?”

Jane considered with wide eyes before cautiously offering me a small lick on the cheek. “Yeah, I think we can make this work.”

Changbin’s car was already parked in his usual spot when I pulled into the complex. I was hoping he would stay at the office longer, but he probably left the moment he received my message. Straightening the hem of my skirt, I carefully entered the apartment, inwardly groaning when I could hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. I was still quiet when I shuffled across the carpet, but apparently, Changbin had been waiting on me. “Babe,” he murmured quietly as I passed by the couch.

Whispering a curse, I turned around to look at Changbin whose eyes were struggling to open as if he had been asleep when I came home. “Sorry,” I said in return, forcing my eyes to look away from his exposed chest, firm edges made softer under the light from the LED screen.

I made my way to our bedroom, deciding to pack as efficiently as possible because I was starting to get a headache which meant I wanted nothing more than to pass out on the bed. “Y/N,” Changbin spoke up softly, lingering by the door as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “How was your mother?”

“Fine,” I answered shortly, moving around our bedroom as quickly as possible because I was determined to avoid any sort of conversation with Changbin, cramming my t-shirts into the stupid designer suitcase he had bought for me. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, looking irresistible with his messy hair and puffy cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, carefully zipping my suitcase closed. I brought it next to his at the side of our dresser.

Changbin took a few more steps into the room, pausing next to the bed while I changed clothes quickly. “Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”

I really wanted to tell him, no, but it was rather difficult to refuse him when he was being sweet. At least he obviously understood that he was wrong for screaming at me like I was one of his assistants instead of his wife. “You can,” I told him, already pulling back the sheets of the comforter.

And I didn’t even resist when he climbed in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist because he liked to keep me close in bed. “Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, fingers curling with mine. “You can keep the dog when we get back.”

“Binnie,” I murmured, attempting to protest because I wasn’t expecting Changbin to give in so easily. He really does give me whatever I want.

“It’s alright,” Changbin said, tenderly squeezing my waist, breath warm against the back of my neck. “We can talk about it later.” The combination of his familiar presence and the lovely feel of his fingers pulling through my hair was enough to lure me into a much-needed sleep.

Early morning flights were a pain in the ass and I was no exception to the demonizing effects of insomnia, especially when I felt guilty because Changbin had agreed to let me keep Jane only after I avoided him for several days. We didn’t talk about it on the drive to the airport. In fact, we didn’t talk much at all as Changbin turned up the volume on the radio while he drove with tired eyes. It had probably been difficult for him to take the whole weekend off for Felix’s getaway trip, and I hadn’t bothered to ask him how he was feeling.

Felix and Rina were waiting for us at the security line when we arrived with a few minutes to spare. Apparently, Hyunjin and Chan were already at the loading gate since they had arrived much earlier than everyone else. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out of town together,” Rina remarked as she pulled me away from Changbin, leaving him to talk quietly with Felix.

“Excluding the first beach disaster?”

“Definitely,” Rina agreed, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “I convinced Felix to switch tickets with you. Now, my best friend can sit next to me instead.”

I nodded in reply since I had actually been looking forward to an opportunity to talk with Changbin on the airplane. It was probably best for both of us if we talked about what happened. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a rather stupid argument that definitely could have been avoided if I had been less inconsiderate of Changbin’s feelings. They might seem irrational, but they mattered and that’s all I could think about for the entirety of our flight to the island.

And if I thought I’d get a chance to talk to him when we landed, I was proven wrong. Because Felix enforced a tight schedule, barely allowing any of us to get settled in at the resort before he was already ordering us to change into something comfortable for the beach. The hotel itself was situated right on the shoreline, busy with fellow travelers looking to enjoy what was already becoming a gorgeous afternoon. And since Changbin happened to own the place, we were treated to the best care with a constant presence of wait staff who brought us drinks and food. “You get five stars, Changbin,” Rina remarked as she sat between Felix’s legs on his beach chair. “I see why everybody makes a big deal out of your expensive hotels now.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin grumbled from where the two of us were situated on a comfortable beach towel. Changbin had long since dismissed his t-shirt, tentatively requesting that I apply a generous amount of sunscreen to his skin. And no matter how I felt towards Changbin, I would never turn down the opportunity to run my hands against the gorgeous muscles that supplied his well-built torso.

In the meantime, Hyunjin and Chan were arguing about whether or not the hotel in New York needed the same kind of luxury swimming pool that the six of us had spotted on our way outside. “If I knew they would be this loud, I would have left them behind,” Felix said, sunglasses resting on the brim of his nose.

“It’s Hyunjin, what did you expect?” Rina said, watching the two older boys bicker. 

I nodded vacantly, growing tried from the influence of the sun. “What’s this surprise all about, Felix?” Rina asked her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question.

Changbin jumped from his spot in front of me and I was startled when I realized I had massaged over his nipples. “You’ll see,” Felix said, a proud smirk making him look just as mischievous as he had been when we first met.

I couldn’t see Rina’s reaction since her glasses obscured most of her face. “Are you really going to keep me waiting?”

“Just until tonight, love,” Felix said, reassuring her with a gentle kiss that had my heart aching in my chest for Changbin despite him being in such close proximity. 

I spent most of the early evening with Rina, wasting time shopping as we waited for our dinner reservations. “What do you think?” Rina asked, holding up a sundress that barely fell below her thighs.

“No,” I said, returning my attention to the magazine in front of me.

“Changbin has made you way too conservative,” she griped before disappearing back into the changing room. “But you seemed more relaxed around him today.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I owe him an apology.”

“What for?” Rina asked. “He’s the one who almost sent for animal control to handle an innocent puppy.”

“I never should have tried to hide Jane in the first place,” I said. “Changbin doesn’t ask for much and I should have respected his preference.”

“Wow, since when have you grown up?” Rina asked, re-emerging from the dressing room. “That’s awfully mature of you.”

“I love him,” I nodded. “And that means more to me than anything else in the world.”

“Including me?” Rina feigned hurt while dramatically falling against a nearby display of sneakers.

I rolled my eyes, checking the time on my phone. “We should probably meet the others.”

“Alright,” Rina grumbled. “But I’m afraid of what Felix might say at dinner.”

“What makes you think it’s a bad thing?” I asked.

“Where have you been, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the drama? Felix avoiding me? Coming home late? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“I thought you moved on from that.”

“Never,” Rina insisted while curling her arm through mine. “I’m still on high alert.”

“You know how Felix can get sometimes,” I said.

“Of course I do! But he’s never acted like this before,” Rina insisted. 

“Well, maybe you’ll get your answers tonight,” I said, leading her into the crowded seafood restaurant on the lower level of the hotel. 

It must have bee massively popular because guests were patiently waiting in large parties scrambled throughout the main lobby. Rina and I fought our way to the hostess, allowing her to check our reservation before graciously leading us further away from the rampant group of hungry customers who were all attempting to talk over one another. Instead, the hostess brought us to a private room, clearly the work of Seo Changbin, where the others were already seated.

“Finally!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Felix wouldn’t let us order until you got here.”

Felix ignored his friend, pulling out a chair for Rina. I could tell he was visibly nervous which was certainly concerning because Felix was one of the most confident people I knew. He was the friend in Changbin’s board meetings who was never shy about speaking up. The one person you could always rely on to sweet talk an additional 5% off our coffee bill in the main lobby because he only had to smile at the poor cashier working the register.

I glanced over at Changbin who was busy scanning the menu in front of him. Changbin didn’t seem worried at all which was reassuring, although it definitely didn’t mean that Felix necessarily told Changbin what he was planning for tonight. And the longer I studied the younger boy fidgeting in his seat, the more curious I became. 

“You know, Chan,” Hyunjin said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring that girl with you. Aren’t the two of you moving in together?”

I perked up at this new information. “Chan has a serious girlfriend?”

Chan and I had known each other for several years, but I was starting to conclude that the older man was planning to stay single for the rest of his life. Not that Chan didn’t make an elegant bachelor because the combination of his appealing good-looks, charming accent, and accumulating wealth was enough to cement his status. But then again, it might be nice to see Chan in a committed relationship because he would make the best father.

“It’s not that serious,” Chan said bashfully, ears tipped in red as he glanced around for the waitress.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin huffed, glancing between Felix and Rina with a barely concealed smirk. “You guys look great together.”

Felix glared at his friend. “You’re determined to spoil everything, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” Rina inquired, studying Felix curiously.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin said, immediately turning to me and Changbin. “Are the two of you still fighting?”

“Hyunjin,” I growled his name, determined once and for all that Hyunjin was intentionally trying to stir up more drama for his viewing pleasure.

“We’re alright,” Changbin said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one arm coming to rest across the back of my chair. “Here,” Changbin said, pulling my plate closer so that he could cut a few pieces of steak for me. “Your favorite.”

I blushed at his kindness, stuffing my mouth full of tender meant to avoid having to say anything in return. Thankfully, Felix was more than ready to interrupt our moment, abruptly standing up from his chair with a glass of wine in hand. “Everyone,” he said, immediately silencing our small party. “I have something to announce.”

I glanced over at Rina from the corner of my eyes, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A nervous habit she picked up from countless nights of writing 10,000-word essays for our history seminar. “Rina,” Felix said, addressing my friend. “We’ve been together for a while.”

Rina nodded, seemingly frozen in place. At least until Felix dropped down onto one knee next to her, pulling out a beautiful gold-encrusted wedding band with diamonds circling the outside. “Marry me.” 

My expression of shock likely mirrored Rina’s while Hyunjin clapped like a maniac from across the table. “Thank god! The secret is finally out!”

“Felix,” Rina finally managed, eyes growing cloudy with the promise of tears while she held out a shaky hand. Felix gently accepted her outstretched limb, sliding the ring into place on her finger. 

“I’ll consider that a yes.”

I immediately turned to Changbin who was watching the two of them with fond eyes. It was quite obvious that he also knew about the proposal and I admired my husband’s ability to help his friend make this weekend so special. Changbin met my gaze with a beautiful smile, reaching underneath the table to take my hand without hesitation.

It was late when the six of us finally left the restaurant, listening to Rina gush over her new ring while clinging to Felix’s side persistently. Changbin and I lingered at the back, shoulders brushing with every step while keeping our pinky fingers interlocked between us. “That woman!” Rina suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar blonde standing behind the concierge counter.

“She’s the hotel’s general manager,” Felix explained, sending a wave in her direction.

“Oh,” Rina said dumbly and my friend was very rarely caught off-guard. I definitely couldn’t wait to offer her a well-deserved “I told you so” when we met for breakfast in the morning. However, for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to go back to the room with Changbin.

“I can’t thank her enough,” Felix continued. “She’s been very helpful when it came to planning all of this.”

“Really?”

“She deserves a raise, Changbin,” Felix said, nudging his friend as the six of us broke off into smaller groups as we returned to our assigned rooms.

“Congratulations, Rina,” I said to my friend, watching her join Felix in the suite across from ours.

I waited until we were truly alone before I closed the door quietly, turning around to find Changbin fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “Let me,” I said quietly, gliding across the floor to handle the delicate switch with nimble fingers.

“Thanks,” Changbin said, dropping the watch on top of the nightstand.

“Changbin,” I spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

My husband shrugged, broad shoulders tense against the fit of his shirt. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I said, reaching out for his wrist to turn him around. “You didn’t deserve that, especially over something that was my fault to begin with.”

Changbin sighed, tugging me closer against him. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I pressed my forehead against the center of his chest. “You never ask me for much. In fact, you’re always the one who gives the most in our relationship. I should have respected your opinion. Instead, I went behind your back and I’ve felt guilty about it for the entire trip.”

“There’s no need for that,” Changbin insisted, fingers curling through my hair. “We’ve both made mistakes, but I can never stay mad at you for long.”

“I’ll let my mom have the dog,” I said, pressing my fingers against his plush lips before he could interrupt. “I’m serious. She’s much happier with Jane. Maybe, later on, we could try something smaller? Like a hamster!”

Changbin grimaced at the thought and I laughed at his expression. “Unless you just want me all to yourself.”

“That’s not it,” Changbin sighed. “I just don’t want that responsibility. Plus, I really don’t like the idea of a dog or cat in the apartment.”

“Well, I can always visit my mom when I want to see Jane,” I said, reaching up to fix the messy strands of his hair. “See? A compromise.”

Changbin smirked, leaning down for a kiss. “You make a better negotiator than I do. Maybe you should be in charge of the board.”

“I’ll let you handle things,” I said, running my hands along his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

“I meant it when I said I would do anything to make you happy,” Changbin whispered against my hair. “Even if that means I have to fill the apartment with dogs.”

I grinned. “I like what we have now, Changbin.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he accused me, laughing when I whined in response. “I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too,” I said. “You’re basically just a giant puppy anyway.”

Changbin grunted as his hands gripped the back of my thighs. “Please don’t say that when I’ve already started making plans to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

I shivered at his seductive promise. “Oh yeah? I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me.”

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LXVI

It was a love story from the very beginning.

You are the one in my heart (Part II)

(11x13)

Hello! I bring to you another meta from this collection – the second part! We will keep talking about broken hearts and how in love Dean is with Castiel. I know you love this topic. And I just decided this will have a third part because I have so many things to say...

First of all, I want to say thank you to @destielle , she's the beta reader of this mess. Thank you for making my meta look so pretty 😘💕💕

Cheating and love triangles

Episode 11x13 is titled 'Love Hurts' and it fits perfectly because, remember how Dean felt so hurt when Casifer tried to use him as bait? Okay. We all agree he suffered a heart break then, and that’s why the Banshee could get to him. Now, this episode talks about broken hearts, too… but also about a cursed kiss: Amara's kiss.

The episode opens with a husband cheating on his wife with their babysitter. It’s a love triangle functioning as a Destiel mirror, but they add in some spicy confusion to the subtext: Melissa (the depressed wife) is the Cas mirror, we have Stacey, the babysitter, for Amara and Dan as Dean.

So when we have Stacey saying: "Ew, I can taste her mom lipstick…you’re telling her tonight, right?" we get the mirrored thoughts of Amara after kissing Dean, who is, too, already taken, compromised – bonded with Castiel. 

And when Dan says: "I told you it’s not that simple. Mel and I…we’ve been together since we were your age. We have a house, a baby…we have a whole life together." He's talking about marriage, a serious commitment, which works as the perfect parallel to Dean and Castiel’s long-term relationship.

So when the Qareen appears in the form of Dan and rips Stacy's heart out from her chest (and vice versa a little further into the episode), we are still talking about broken hearts. But we get confused because Dan admits his love for the babysitter, and therefore could never hurt her. Because you don't hurt the one you love (obviously if Dean had listened a little closer to Dan, he surely would have recalled that nefarious chat with Casifer where he proposed to put Dean in danger).

So, going with the assigned roles, let’s say if Dan is Dean and Stacy is Amara, does that mean when Dan is saying he loves Stacy, not his wife, that Dean loves Amara, and not Cas? No. Not at all. Because the upcoming scenes and what Dean says by the end of the episode will clarify: THE KISS AMARA GAVE HIM IS A CURSE AND HE IS NOT IN LOVE WITH HER.

Now, I want to share with you my beta's clarifying thought, that calmed my shipping heart...

"Hi, destielle here, rudely taking advantage of beta’ing to add a thought: I think the babysitter merely posed as a temptation, something Dan tried out because it’s kind of forbidden and dangerous and therefore exciting, plus conquering a girl stimulates his self-worth but - breaking up with his wife never really was a heartfelt intention. Because getting it on with the babysitter is not only a clichée, but also only fun for a little while, because everything, in the end, will lose its newness and therefore allurement and so I suspect he knew that sticking to what he has, a long-term thing that lasts, is the better road to go by far. Plus there’s a difference between true love and excitement induced infatuation. The ladder will fade, love will last and grow stronger bc it’s built upon a solid foundation."

This is so true, and couldn't be more agreed! Thank you Hannah! 😚💕

The Cursed Kiss

This was a very blatantly straight forward episode, because first it was opened with a recall to AMARA's kiss to Dean. And then they showed us how the Qareen’s curse jumped from one to the next victim via kiss. So, you have a deadly kiss, a cursed kiss… The mark of Cain’s kiss, darkness’s kiss, AMARA's kiss… that wasn't love, that wasn't good. AMARA's kiss is dark, bad, cursed and deadly.

AMARA's kiss poop? 🤣

Who's in Dean's heart?

We already know the answer, but let's dig into it anyway…

The first scene with the Winchester brothers takes place in the Bunker's kitchen the morning after Valentine's day and Dean is having a hard time trying to restore himself… he's walking funny on his way to the fridge… if you know what I mean. But mostly we wonder why that is. He's not the guy for a one-night-only-girl anymore, so what was the matter? And immediately after that question we asked ourselves Dean says this to his brother…

Sam: Is that a hickey? (Dean spits out his food)

Gif set credit @spnwhenever

Dean: And? It was valentine’s day. I can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic.

Sam: You got half of that right.

Dean: Just doing my civic duty. Helping all the single ladies. You know the best thing about February 14th. You don’t have to be Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now

Sam: That’s classy

Is this the old Dean talking? Nope, definitely not. It’s Mr Dean ‘Broken-hearted’ Winchester talking. And we get it now… Saint Valentine's day, he wasn't with his Mr. Right (Cas)... He just took what was right in that moment. It’s very very sad. But Dean needs to frame it more classy, to make it more cool.

Now, I want to talk a little about Melissa. When she realizes she maybe went too far with her spell, she turns to Dean and Sam, and she says this…

Melissa: yes. A return to love spell. All I had to do was chant it and seal it with a kiss. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I swear. I just wanted my husband back.

This is sad too, and gives us, if we take that as a feeling mirrored from Cas, a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he said ‘Yes’ to Lucifer in the cage. And again it’s the motive of the CURSED KISS, one with dark intentions… we already learned AMARA's kiss is bad and not good, but now we get even more confirmation of this when Dean kisses Melissa, taking the curse on him that way. WE GET IT WRITERS!

Gif credit @clairvoyantsam

Sam: So the curse is transmittable?

Just like Cain's mark, the curse, the kiss, the love spell, all of them are transmittable.

Sam: Apparently not in him. The person who holds the Qareen’s heart is the one who commands it.

Sam is giving us a lot of clues here: Who has AMARA's heart? Dean. But who has Dean's heart? Castiel. So Dean can direct his own will to reject AMARA's offer. And this is the secret why DEAN CAN RESIST HER.

So, with this statement in our heads, let's analyze the Qareen’s and Dean’s encounter…

The Qareen takes the form of people’s darkest desires. So… he took AMARA's shape.

The Qareen sensed Dean's longing in his heart, but it failed in personifying it. Because Dean's darkest desire is not dark, it’s full of light, but is hidden, because it’s so repressed. His deepest is a secret, it’s his love for Castiel.

Amara: Who I am doesn’t matter. The real question is who are you?

Dean: What do you mean who am I?

She can't read him, Dean Winchester is a mystery, she can't get to his true feelings, she can't reach them. Dean has them sealed away very, very deep down in his soul. Like a treasure.

Amara: You’re a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it’s cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in.

When she says Dean Winchester is a mystery it’s because she really can't read the truth in him, but she knows it’s somewhere in there. She feels it, but can't quite grasp it. And she says 'it's clocked in shame.' Because it is, because Dean Winchester is ashamed of his feelings for Castiel. He knows he shouldn't feel how he feels for his best friend, for a ‘man’, for an angel. He thinks he doesn't deserve him. So, when the Qareen touches herself saying 'when it comes to this, you can't help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in.' It’s simple when it’s about women, when it’s about a curse, a love spell, the attraction is there, the curse is there, he knows it, but they're not Mr. Right. They're just there… the girls on Saint Valentine's Day are available and Amara is almost irresistible because of the curse. But Dean Winchester doesn't give in to that because he loves Castiel.

And then, Qareen!Amara can’t rip Dean's heart from his chest. Because she is not the one in his heart.

We need more evidence? What about this last dialogue between Sam and Dean…

Dean: It was Amara

Sam: That surprise you?

Dean: That doesn’t surprise you?

Sam: Honestly?

Dean: Honestly? You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire?

Sam: She isn’t?

Dean: No! She can’t be!

Gif credit @samwinchesterlesbian 👇

Dean puts all his fierceness into these words, BECAUSE HE IS SURE! HE KNOWS POSITIVELY IT CAN'T BE, BECAUSE HE LOVES CASTIEL.

Sam: Why not?

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah

Dean is afraid of the power Amara has over him, that’s it.

Dean: Standing here right now, every bone in my body wants to run her through. Send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her, I don’t know. Something happens and I can’t explain it, but to call it desire or love…it’s not that. I’m screwed man. We wanna kill the darkness. We need to kill the darkness. And I don’t think I can. I’m sorry to do that to you, ya know, but when it comes right down to it…

The most important thing here is that Dean is aware of the curse, of the power, he knows what Amara does to him, and he is sure that it is NOT LOVE. How can he be sure that it’s not love? BECAUSE HE KNOWS WHAT LOVE IS, BECAUSE THERE'S SOMEONE IN HIS HEART ALREADY, AND THAT'S CASTIEL.

To Conclude: 

If the episode with Mildred showed us Dean was pining for someone, telling us Dean is in love with someone, then this one is yelling in our faces that person isn't Amara. And if it’s not Amara plus ‘cloaked in shame’, and Dean has gotten his heart broken recently by someone we know, we are talking about the same person: Castiel.

So it’s logical! And we made the equation just like the writers wanted us to solve it: DEAN WINCHESTER IS IN LOVE WITH CASTIEL, BUT HE'S ASHAMED OF THIS FEELING. AND AMARA HAS A DARK POWER OVER HIM THROUGH A TRANSMITTABLE CURSE: CAIN'S MARK. CANONICAL FACTS! But yeah, I'm not discovering a new world here...

I hope you liked this mess. See you in the next one!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@imjustkipping @destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From s11, here you have the links: Vol. LXII, LXIII, LXIV, LXV.

Buenos Aires, June 16th 2020 18:45 PM