#I'm 100% sure that when I come across him in the books again my feelings will not have changed

[earl-grey-love]

I've been rereading the Hung.er Games (halfway through book 2), and it amazes me how even though it's been over a decade since I last read it, I still remember every detail. The power of a special interest should not be underestimated.

They're books I genuinely can't put down. I read the first one in like 3 days. I remember doing that the first time I read them too. Just glued to the pages. I loved the movies when they came out too. I watched the first one last night with my husband, who also just finished reading the first book too (his first time!), and it was so much fun. I can't wait to do it with the others.

I'm still so fond of all the characters. It makes me feel even more invested in all the tension, drama, and their fates. And seeing it through the eyes of an adult really adds to that. I'm noticing themes and details that, while I may have been aware of them at the time, the full depth of were lost on me until now.

[kradogsrats]

Signs of the Fall, Pt. 2

Since Part 1 was cut short due to the limit on number of images per post, here's Part 2.

Perhaps Your Heart Is Not Yet Darkened

And finally, the big one: the darkened center of his chest star. We can pinpoint this as happening somewhere between Leola's execution and whenever TMO gets around to checking on Aaravos weeping over her remains:

I have my own feelings about the whole "for 100 years, I wept" thing in relation to Ripples, mostly related to how I don't think the place Aaravos is crying is like... the same plane of reality.

We're also given pretty big hint as to why his star is darkened, and the subsequent connection between him and dark magic:

Aaravos is connected to dark magic users through the emptiness in his own spirit, as seen in his darkened chest star. Why is his spirit empty? Well:

Because he lost what fills that darkness. Bummer.

How was he able to conceal this from the rest of Xadia for hundreds, if not thousands of years, seeing as it's not darkened in the s4 flashback? Well, we still don't know. Why does it light up again when he's casting primal spells? Don't know that, either.

I do think most, if not all, of the pre-s6 theories about Aaravos's chest star are still viable. The Laurelion poem remains suspiciously on point, and "dark magic corruption is literally an offshoot of Aaravos's own entrenched grief and hatred" is... a take I expect will be kind of controversial. (I might noodle on that a bit more and see about writing it up, because I don't think it's as insane as it sounds.)

It is Such a Quiet Thing, to Fall

So to circle back to the beginning, we still have the question of what even was Aaravos's fall? Why is he "fallen"? What does that even mean?

Most interpretations have been that it's related to some kind of transgression and punishment, whether that was his machinations in bringing dark magic into being or some earlier involvement with humans that met the stars' disapproval. This, I think, is largely rooted in Aaravos's definite associations with Lucifer, fallen angel and manipulator of humanity. Plus there's the fact that he's imprisoned when he's introduced, and it took a while to get across that he has actually been imprisoned for "only" 300 years—"fallen" was frequently taken to be synonymous with his imprisonment, being stripped of his power and exiled.

I want to put forward a theory where those things are separated: even though the artbook directly says, "As a 'fallen' Startouch elf, Aaravos can only access a fraction of his former power," I'm not sure those things are actually related.

Aaravos's relatively depowered state, I think, may actually be a normal part of him choosing to manifest in Xadia.

It's pretty standard for divine beings taking on corporeal mortal form to not be able to access the same level of omnipotence as they could before. Given the way Leola's trial and execution played out, it also doesn't seem like stripping Aaravos of some of his power is something the council of stars would be interested in doing, whether they wanted to punish him or not.

So one possibility is actually that a "fallen" star is simply another term for a Startouch elf walking Xadia, one of the great ones made manifest.

Another possibility is to come full circle back to Aaravos as "the Fallen Star" being related to his imprisonment. In answer to Ezran's question about whether a fallen star was previously just a star, Zubeia describes Aaravos as powerful and beloved, until they found that he had betrayed them all and had been doing so for hundreds of years:

We don't really have a ton of context for Aaravos for the time period between what we see in s6 with Leola and what is described as 300 years earlier in s4, or even how much time that was, but the references to "fallen star" are largely confined to the latter period. The mirror inscription, for instance:

The one exception is the history book page about Aaravos that appears only in the artbook (alongside the two seen when Viren, and later Callum, try to look up information about him). It's the Italian-language one, and among other things, says:

Known by many names in ancient stories - "The Fallen Star", the last of the Great Ones, the bringer of gifts, but his true name was Aaravos. Texts mentioning his name have been found since the time of the great schism, although there are disagreements about his role in historical events. Some describe him as a beneficent figure, an ally of humanity, willing to share his great magical power with those who needed it the most. Others portray him as…

(As a side note, there's a very significant translation difference I've discovered here from what is on the wiki. The current Google Translate output has "Texts mentioning his name have been found since the time of the great schism," while the wiki translation has "Words mentioning his name have been truncated since the time of the great schism." I don't know Italian, but I did French and a teensy bit of Spanish—personally, I think Google is correct on this one, looking at the individual words and there relationship to other Romance languages, there's nothing in there even vaguely similar to "truncated." THIS IS A HUGE DEAL, ACTUALLY, GIVEN THAT THE MAGICAL CENSORSHIP OF TEXTS ABOUT AARAVOS IS A PLOT POINT. So never trust this fandom's wiki for anything but the most obvious information, and take even that with a grain of salt.)

It's not clear exactly when this text is supposed to be from, as it is referring to Aaravos abstractly as a historical figure. It could very well be from after his imprisonment—with the Orphan Queen's involvement, information about Aaravos from that era could easily have been recorded even on the human side of the Border.

Anyway, my point is that Aaravos imprisoned is actually a strong contender for the meaning of "the Fallen Star," but we still don't really know much about his imprisonment as related to his powers. The prison was created specifically to contain him, and Zubeia refers to "part" of its power being that no one knows where it is.

It seems unlikely, given the way Zubeia describes having to confront Aaravos obliquely, that even the archdragons would have been capable of stripping any part of his powers. So if his power is reduced when in the prison, it's almost definitely only when within the prison.

Personally, that's what I lean toward at this point—that Aaravos having reduced power is related to his incarnate form, and "fallen" is a modern descriptor applied to reference his descent from a place of honor and respect when his betrayals were discovered.

This concludes my post-s6 "State of the Fallen Star" address, thanks for reading this incredibly hot mess of a take.

[anystalker707]

Tea at 9pm

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 4 100 Summary: You're not aware the cook had feelings for you. Tags: babygirl sanji / wholesome relationship / reader is a writer who keeps a journal with the crew's adventures / extremely fluffy ending

a/n: comfort fic once again lmao i had an existential crisis

MASTERLIST

          If anyone asked what you did, it would feel like you were just a minor part of the crew, presumptuous, even, but things were different when they saw you actually get in action. In the first place, you wrote. You were a writer, author of some great novels that spreaded across the Grand Line, and secondly, you now were a Strawhat who kept a log of the crew’s adventures and fought when needed. The day Luffy recruited you was still fresh in your mind.

"So you’re a writer? You wrote all of this?" Luffy had asked thoughtfully with a hand on his chin as he eyed the piles of books. "Riiight... I need someone to write it down when I become the King of the Pirates! The news’ people always tell things wrong! Come with us!"

A smile traced your lips as you shook your head, now working on the illustration of the last island you'd been to, adding details and a little color. Sure wasn't the best drawing, but you still wanted to keep some sort of reminder from the lovely place.

The soft knock on the door came as it usually did, religiously, and there wasn't even the need for an answer before the door swung open. The click of shoes against the ground resonated through the small office-bedroom as he approached you and finally set the tray on the free space of the desk. Your and his cups were filled with hot tea as they were every night, the flavor declared by the strong smell that came along with the steam escaping from the drink.

"A lot of work today?" Sanji asked you as he took a seat on the armchair, crossing his legs.

"Not really." You shook your head. "We've been in the open sea for a couple of days already, so I'm just updating some old stuff." The drawing you showed him had been finished earlier, already properly inked and depicting part of the crew interacting at the island.

Sanji raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded, a smile decorating his face. "Does it still give you time to work on your personal stuff, though?" He took the unlit cigarette off between his lips and slipped it back into its case that belonged to the pocket on the inside of his blazer, which he ended up taking off and folding to leave it across the armchair’s arm.

“Sort of.” You shrugged a little. “I use a lot of my free time to work on it. It only gets difficult to manage when we’re down to things like when in Spypiea, Sabaody or Marineford. Even afterwards, I still need a couple of weeks to organize everything, interview you guys and stuff. We genuinely go through a lot of stuff, and you only realize it’s that much when you need to register it all down!” You chuckled a little, throwing your arms above yourself to stretch with a soft sigh. “My priority is to keep the crew’s log, though!”

“Oh? Not your career?”

“Of course not!” You shook your head. “You guys are wonderful people who once saved me and now we take care of each other. I can’t let you die—all of this die—without the story being properly told. It’s a great responsibility to keep a record of the adventures...” The words trailed off until you were lost in your thoughts instead, but you just shook your head and closed the few books you had opened after you marked all the pages, leaving untouched only the one that had the drying watercolor. Carefully, you took the still warm cup in hand, inhaling the sweet and rich smell of the tea. “Fruit?”

“Something from that island, but a fruit, indeed,” he justified, momentarily standing up so he could also get his tea. “I haven’t tried it yet, thought it would be best for the both of us to have it together. It’s important to me.”

“What if it’s bad?” You joked,  turning your chair so you could face him.

“Then we throw it out the window and you write down how terrible it was so we never try it again!” He clicks his tongue in a feigned annoyance that has both of you laughing until forced to fall quiet to finally try the drink. “Well, I actually like it! You?”

You took a sip of the tea, giving yourself a moment to analyze the taste. “Good! Still not better than my favorite, but it’s still something!” The comment brought a grin to Sanji’s face as both of you shared a look.

Silence filled the room again quite comfortably, allowing you to hear the waves crashing outside. You took a look out the window and then at the clock on the table. “Who’s on the night watch today?” It’d been a while since you last left your room, probably only having done so for dinner during the last hours because Sanji wouldn’t leave you alone otherwise.

“That’s me!” His voice didn’t carry the same excitement as his face did as he looked into the cup.

“Want some company?” You offered. “I’m always up until late messing with my things, either—”

“Don’t think about it!” Sanji shook his free hand as he took a sip of the tea. “You had to wake up early today and take care of your writing this whole time, so you better have a good night of sleep! I know how those can be tiring! Mentally tiring!”

“Sanji!” You furrowed your eyebrows with a pout, but ended up just rolling your eyes once he shot you a glare, compelling him to snicker. A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back on the chair. “I just wanted to keep you company. I want to show you some story ideas along with some drawings! Your night watch wouldn’t be so boring.”

“As much as I like your company, your rest comes first. I promise I’ll come check out all of that stuff tomorrow, okay? Besides, keep that night energy for when it’s your turn for the night watch!” Sanji lectured you despite the unfazed look you shot him before rolling your eyes—it was almost as if you weren’t the one who would take care of him during the night, either telling him to go to bed already when he cooked until too late or throwing a blanket over his shoulders because he fell asleep in the galley.

You were the first one to finish the drink, putting your empty cup away and wetting the watercolor again until Sanji stood up and placed his cup back on the tray as well.

“Don’t forget to go to sleep,” Sanji said, his face a few inches away from yours as he bent down with a hand on the back of the chair. “I’ll come here and put you to sleep if I notice you’re awake!”

“It’s not happening,” you promised him with a smile.

“Great!” Sanji wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a hug you awkwardly returned as you could, with a hand on his shoulder whilst leaning into his touch. He took the tray in hand so he could leave, wishing you a good night. His blazer was still on the armchair; you shook your head with a chuckle.

The next day, Sanji was still awake when you had breakfast. You quietly observed him swooning over Robin and Nami despite how tired he was, but your attention was on catching up with Luffy, Chopper, Franky, Brook and Usopp. Most of the day, you were locked in your office, reading in the library or drawing one of the tables on the desk, so they wouldn’t lose the opportunity of talking with you during the meals to know what you’d done so far. They loved to see the drawings of themselves, no matter how they were, always bugging you to take a look at something even on days you took off to yourself, so it was easy to spent the morning with them and later talk with Robin and Nami as well, not forgetting to go up to the Crow’s Nest for at least a few minutes to spot Zoro on a rep or two while chatting.

A little after lunch, Sanji knocked on your room’s door. “Hell, I’m really tired!”

You glanced away from your papers to see him kick off his shoes before collapsing on your bed face-first, grabbing one of the pillows to rest his head on, sort of hugging it. “Did you take a nap? You left your blazer here last night, by the way!”

“Oh, so that’s where it was this whole time, thank you! And no! I ended up preparing breakfast during the night then prepared lunch after breakfast was served,” he explained, muffled by the pillow until he turned his head to face you.

“Should’ve tried to get some sleep.” You sighed, dipping your pen in ink again.

“It’s not like that,” he groaned. “I left some food ready just in case, though, just so I can rest now. I thought I’d come talk to you first since I promised.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at the cook, pausing so you could ruffle his hair, which made him close his eyes for a moment. “Nonsense. You could’ve just gone to sleep, I’d understand it! You don’t need to sacrifice yourself.”

“Shhh, I promised.” Sanji narrowed his eyes a little. “Tell me, what did you want to show me?”

“Right... First of all, I had some retouches on the drawings I’d made for Sabaody, so I wanted you to take a look at them to make sure I’m not forgetting anything,” you mumbled while you flipped to the pages where the drawings were and handed the book to him. Through time, your chat grew slower, with sporadic and distant answers coming from Sanji until you looked at him and noticed he was actually asleep. The sight made a small smile stretch your lips before you went back to working quietly as always.

A knock on the door pulled you away from your thoughts and you looked back to see Nami’s head peeking him from the slightly-open door. “Hey, (y/n), have you seen—” She looked around for a little and fell silent.

“Seen what?”

“Actually, nevermind!” She shot you a smile. “Sorry for interrupting!”

“No worries!” You smiled, waving as she quietly closed the door once again.

          The new island was filled with casinos, clubs, markets and stores with the most peculiar things that had a great part of the crew voting to stay for longer than a day since there weren’t any worries that tied you down to dates or time. Usopp, Sanji, Nami and Robin seemed excited about a particular club after you took a look at it while getting to know the city, so they invited you and Brook and it was almost impossible to refuse; you easily found yourself getting ready in front of the mirror before you left to go wait for the others with Nami and Usopp. Sanji was the last to show up, covering Nami and Robin with compliments that they already learned not to give much attention to, instead already moving to leave the ship.

“You’re looking extra good today, (y/n)!” Nami smiled, hooking her arm with yours and discreetly distancing from the rest of the group with you. “Trying to catch someone’s attention?”

“Maybe?” You chuckled. “It’s been a while since we last stopped at such a nice island, so I thought a one-night thing isn’t gonna hurt!”

Nami blinked a couple of times. “One-night thing?”

“No new crewmates!” You shook your head, contributing more to Nami’s confused look, which you also didn’t quite understand.

She hummed, looking away for a long moment. “Um, and Sanji?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...” She breathed and shrugged a little, about to say something when she was hit on the back of the head by something and it was enough for her mood to change completely. Her teeth were gritted and eyes practically white while a vein popped on her temple as she slowly looked back to see the three men stand there quietly, pale, ready for the shouting that promptly came from her along with hits. Robin brought a hand to her mouth as she chuckled, and you sweatdropped, continuing to walk.

The night was long. You’d drunk, not a lot to do things you regretted, but enough to rather easily accept hanging out with people you’d just met, exploring the city and talking bullshit.

“Just a little longer,” the girl said as she waved at you and the two other people that trailed behind, carefully walking through the woods until you made it to a rock on top of a mountain. “It’s gonna be there.” She pointed to a spot behind the mountains of another island in the distance, where it was already lighter and it did seem like the sun would start rising in a few minutes, just as she had promised.

Even with little to help, the four of you made yourselves comfortable on the cold rock; you used one of the guys’ sweatshirt as a makeshift pillow, observing the sky quietly while they talked with each other. Despite the alcohol still in your system, what made you groggy was mostly the lack of sleep.

“Hey,” the girl said as she lay down next to you, on her side, holding herself up with an elbow. “Do you... Okay, I won’t waste time. Can I kiss you?”

You almost choked on your spit, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the question that sent your thoughts racing. At first, all you could do was sputter half words, unable to connect thoughts, until she chuckled and you decided to take a deep breath. “Okay, so, um... I’m... Well, not right now. Actually, I like someone else, a lot. I can’t picture myself kissing another person.”

“Oh. That sucks,” she sighed. “You look really nice, but I don’t think you’re staying around for long, anyways. Say more, though. Tell me about who you like.”

The time your cheeks heated up again was for another reason, with a softer feeling stirring in your chest. “He’s... I think he doesn’t like me, y’know? He’s a real flirt, but not with me. I feel like we are just great friends and it ends there. We are really close, but not the sort of close I wish it were.”

“Did you even tell him you like him?” She raised an eyebrow and you shook your head. “You should!”

“I don’t want it to hurt.” You smiled a little, but without humor.

She furrowed her eyebrows a little as if she understood your situation. “Well, maybe hurting is not a bad thing. It makes you stronger, and it would make you free to kiss other people!” She started to chuckle at the same time you did so, shaking your head a little.

          You had a hand over your brow line to keep a shadow over your eyes while your shoes hung from your other hand when you returned to the ship later that same day, already tired and feeling like you’d never get back to Sunny, feeling as if you’d been run over a thousand times. All you could do once you arrived back to the ship was to sleep, only waking up again when it was already late in the afternoon, mumbling something about something being different in your bedroom before you could go for a shower.

“Whoa, look at who’s alive!” Usopp announced once you walked out to the deck, attracting a lot of pairs of eyes to you.

“Good night?” Zoro teased with a chuckle. “Even forgot you had a home!”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you took a seat at a table with Robin. “Shut up, Zoro, you don’t even know how to get home by yourself!”

Given how you’d practically slept all day long, you decided to change turns with Robin and take the night watch for the day. It was a nice, warm night, so you didn’t bother staying outside with your books, illustrating the island during the night. It felt like something was missing, still. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the galley’s direction. There was no tea that night.

Brook took over the nightwatch halfway through the night, allowing you to sleep and wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning. Nami was the first person you ran into once you left your room, happy for finally feeling well after partying all night a day before. “Nami!”

“Oi, (y/n)!” She smiled as she approached you. “Good morning!”

“Morning!” You smiled in return. “Have you seen Sanji? He didn’t bring me tea yesterday. Actually, I didn’t see him at all, now that I think about it.”

Nami’s face fell in a way you didn’t really like, almost taking a step back as you watched her. “Hm, you see...” She sighed, with a hand on her hip. “You didn’t come back to the ship that night, so he was worried. He even tidied up your room so you didn’t need to do anything when you arrived.”

“Right...? Explains a lot.”

“And he thought you were with someone else. Like, hooking up.”

“I wasn’t but...” You shrugged. “What’s up with that?”

The expression across Nami’s face was the same as when she had seen Luffy let himself fall for Usopp’s lies for the first time. “That made him feel bad.”

“Sanji and I aren’t something, Nami.” You furrowed your eyebrows, reminded of the talk you had with the island’s residents that night.

Nami seemed as if she would explode. “Well, maybe he wishes there were?”

“I—”

“(Y/n), Sanji likes you!” She just gave up with a sigh, taking a quick look around before she continued. “He adores you! He doesn’t flirt with people anymore, he just compliments and does things for them because he’s always believed he needed to, mainly to women! Still, he doesn’t make tea for everyone, every night! He doesn’t stay up until late for anyone or makes them company during the night! I’ve never seen Sanji leave his clothes anywhere else rather than in the male quarters! Besides, he keeps one of your novels and a picture with you under his pillow! I saw it!”

That was a lot to take in. You didn’t know Sanji treated you differently in that sense, in the first place, let alone know that he liked you. It made sense now that you thought about it, of course, because he wouldn’t be spending the same amount of time with the others as well if he was there making you company for most of the day. Some nights, he would be there asleep on your bed while you worked on your books.

“Sorry,” Nami exhaled. “I really didn’t want it all to fall upon you suddenly like this, but you needed to know it already! Sanji doesn’t deserve this! Either reject him already or take care of him. He deserves someone to love him.”

You quickly nodded. “I know.”

Not a lot needed to be said. There wasn’t a lot to be said. You looked at Nami a last time before you walked right back into your room, taking a deep sigh as her words still echoed through your mind, each of them connected to a memory you held and you couldn’t help but to feel a weight in your chest—Sanji must’ve felt terrible when he noticed you disappeared at the club after you refused to dance with him so you could leave with your new friends. It would be easy to fix, at least theoretically, because your stomach churned at the thought of facing Sanji right now.

Your morning wasn’t a lot different from the others, locked in your room and staring at a white page, but the purpose of your writing was different this time. Your feelings were going to be spilled, bleeded all over a page without any filter or restriction because they needed to be understood so no one would be hurt anymore. In the end, it was beautifully folded and with Sanji written in your gold ink while sealed with wax.

Sanji was serving breakfast and chatting around, out on the deck—you double checked—when you sneaked into the galley and left the paper in a safe place, where you knew he’d find it. Hell, it was pathetic. You needed to declare your feelings through a little letter because you didn’t have the guts to face the guy yourself after unintentionally hurting his feelings. In your defense, writing was the best thing you could do.

At the same time it was relieving, you could feel anxiety bubbling under your skin. The situation would slip away from your mind at times, but at others, you felt like Sanji would show up out of sudden saying that you were going crazy. Hopefully not.

When it was night, however, the knock finally came, as it always had done before, without missing a single day, for months straight. You tensed up this time, letting him walk in and watching the tray be placed on the free space of your desk—you didn’t even know when it became instinctive to leave that side clear for the tray. Aside from the mugs, this time, there was a bite-sized sweet as well, your favorite.

“I read it.” Sanji’s voice was small, practically vulnerable. His hand was shaking when it retreated from the tray.

“Sanji—”

“I’m sorry I just concluded things!” He cut in quickly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning on your chair, but he didn’t meet your eyes, instead looking at the ground. “No, you did nothing wrong! I should’ve paid more attention, I just... I wasn’t communicative enough as well...” You couldn’t find the right words, express the right things, so you took a pause, standing up. He didn’t take a step back when you approached. “I’m sorry, Sanji. Don’t leave me, please. Nami helped me realize things. Sorry for the time we lost.”

Sanji was almost in the same state, with thoughts roaming around his mind without order, but lacking the courage to be voiced, though he knew he couldn’t lose the opportunity—he couldn’t lose you. “(Y/n).”

“I love you, Sanji. I know I’ve told you this before, but now I mean it in another way.”

Sanji’s face was impossibly red. His hand twitched as he reached out to you; it was as if you two were sparkles searching for each other, looking for the right time to go off, which happened exactly when you took his hand in his and let him pull you closer in a tight hug.

“I love you,” he mumbled in response, and it almost felt as if you’d explode, with your heart skipping beats and fluttering in your chest, not even knowing what it does.

It was a relief, really. A relief and a sea of happiness simultaneously because your doubts and anguishes were extinguished at the same time you were finally able to do what you’ve longed for for so long. You let your nose brush against his before your lips met. The taste and smell of tobacco was undeniable, but it still didn’t erase the fact his lips were soft, returning the care and want that you felt for him.

Sanji seemed giddy, blushing and flustered, but also excited to the point he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He pulled you with him to sit down on the bed and took a look at you, grinning wide before taking your hands in his; he left kisses all over your knuckles then did the same over your face, needing to pause to smile because of how you giggled, and your lips were pressed together again.

You had to place a hand on his chest so you were able to pull away, climbing on the bed properly to push him down and straddle his hips, taking a moment to observe him look at you with wide eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered, still feeling your heart beat strongly in your chest. Sanji’s cheeks felt warm against your palms when you cupped his face, caressing his cheeks and carefully brushing his bangs away from his face; he swallowed dryly, but never stopped you, hands placed over yours softly. “I love you, Sanji!”

Sanji’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times without saying anything until he finally said it once again. “I love you.” There wasn’t a ‘too’ because his love was independent of yours, he loved you and would do it even if you didn’t love him back. He grinned as the excitement bubbled up in his chest, making him feel all giddy again, in a way it was even hard to contain himself when you leaned in for a kiss once more.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[chernabogs]

Congratulations on 100 followers!!! I'm so glad to see your work getting the love it deserves! If it's alright with you (and please don't feel pressured, I just saw your reblogged prompt list and had a thought) I would like to request Jade and Reader with the "You're about as intimidating as a butterfly" prompt. I'm just curious as to how you would write something with Jade since I enjoy how you phrase things in your works. And again, congratulations!!!!!

WAH THANK YOUUUUU so excited to dig my hands into some Jade stuff

RHODOMEL

Inc: Jade x Reader, some Floyd (naturally), a touch of Azul Warnings: None! WC: 2.3k Summary: It's a quiet night at the Lounge, and his newfound conversation partner has just arrived.

Most people would hate it—'it' being the concept of a routine. A baseline set of tasks to complete at a certain point of time, day in and day out, which serves as both a tether and a guide for how the hours are meant to play. Jade follows somewhat of a routine in his life. Waking up, attending classes, and then in the evening assisting with the operations at Mostro Lounge. 

Sometimes there’s a wrench in his routine. Floyd may shake things up (he, who lives with no routine at all), Azul may request something be looked into, or he may find himself with a few spare hours on the weekend to venture off into the mountains that lay scattered around the island. He doesn’t mind the changes—he’s rather quick at adapting to things on the fly—and he also doesn’t mind the conflicts that arise with them. 

“—and at least twenty pounds of tomatoes.” Azul is next to him at the ‘bar’ area of the lounge, dubbed so despite the fact that no alcohol is permitted to be served on campus. He’s hunched over on a stool, his uniform half complete and his sleeves pushed up as he writes out the stock order that’s meant to be sent tomorrow evening. 

Floyd has that task. Jade wonders if he’ll feel up to it when the time comes, or if he’ll be taking it on instead. Not that he minds. 

“Twenty?” He muses as he picks up another glass to wipe clean. “We often order less than that.” 

“There’s a discount for twenty. We’ll think of new dishes with tomatoes to add. Perhaps we can also get in touch with Lilia to see if he’ll buy some…” Azul hums back as his pen continues to strike across the stock paper with vigour. Jade feels a twinge of amusement at the way the man is already strategizing how to make a profit from their purchase. 

His attention is then drawn back to the patrons currently in the lounge. It’s a quieter night—which makes sense, considering that this is on the brink of midterm season. A few Pomefiore students are in a booth in the corner, and he spots a Diasomnia boy with two Octavinelle ones at another table. One of the lounge’s waiters moves between the tables with practised ease.

Then he hears the door open. He feels that twinge of amusement grow when a familiar face passes through the threshold with a frown—possibly from the way this night seems particularly colder than most. 

“You have an expression I’m not too sure I like.” Azul’s voice draws his gaze once more. His friend, as he supposes that’s the best way to coin it, observes him with narrowed eyes before looking back to the door. His expression then shifts to a brief flash of understanding before he chuckles and closes the order books. 

“Done?” Jade asks innocently as Azul pushes the stool in with a sly look. 

“Do remember to restock the limes.” Is all he says before departing for his office, leaving Jade alone in the bar area, and giving their new customer an ample opportunity to approach. 

He knows that you will. This has become somewhat of a routine for you, although you still try to play it off like you’re not coming in here to speak with him for an hour or so. He finds it quaint that you come up with new excuses each time you sit at that bar and order something for him to make. A part of him wonders where you get the funds to come out nearly twice a week—but then again, why question where the money comes from when he’s the one receiving it in the end? 

“Welcome.” He muses as you sit down in your usual spot, right where Azul was sitting moments earlier. He sets another newly scrubbed glass down before pulling out the lounge’s menu and sliding it your way. “I would imagine you’d be too preoccupied with your midterms to come visit tonight.” 

“I'm considering this a study break,” you counter as you peer at the menu.

Jade feels a slightly genuine, but still mostly polite, smile play at his lips as he looks back out to the lounge. He spots Floyd lurking by the door, and when the two brothers make eye contact, the latter's expression lights up. Jade hums quietly when the other starts to make his way over. 

“This is bullshit!” 

That is, until an explosive voice from the table with the Diasomnia boy stops everyone in their tracks. Even you turn to look back in surprise, as Jade sets yet another glass down to observe the next few moments with interest.

He doesn’t feel the need to step in. Floyd’s attention has already been diverted, and the boredom his twin was feeling hovering by the entrance is now suddenly abated as the grin on his face grows wider. You look back to Jade, who glances at you and flashes yet another polite smile. 

This isn’t unusual to happen in the Mostro Lounge, especially during exam times when students try all that they can to swindle opportunities for higher grades with less of the legwork. Jade has never quite felt any sympathy for those who approach Azul, or anyone else in Octavinelle for that matter, in a bid to gain a higher grade. Perhaps it was his upbringing under his parents guidance or perhaps it’s just the constant exposure to Azul’s strategies, but he’s always been under the impression that one gets what they deserve in the end—regardless of what they do.

“Floyd looks way too happy about this,” you murmur as you turn back slowly to look at the menu. Jade picks up another glass with a soft hum. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” He continues to clean the glass as the volume from that table grows, now drawing more attention towards the conflict. He can see that it’s beginning to disturb the clients—yourself included—and he has half the mind to go silence it himself. Floyd is taking far too long, playing around with the students and goading them on. 

The Diasomnia boy, in his fury at whatever the other students just tried to rip him off of, turns around and in that very moment catches Jade’s eye. It takes very little facial expressions or micro-movements for the students to quickly sober up, and then turn red in a combination of both embarrassment and fear. He grabs at his jacket, slamming his madol down on the table, before storming out of the lounge with Floyd trailing along behind. His twin's laughter is audible even when the doors close. Jade returns back to his duties as you nudge the menu forward. 

“It’s quite interesting how fast that student ran out of here when all you did was look at him.” You muse, resting your chin in your palm as you peer at him. He feels that twinge of amusement again in his gut. If one were to see the two of you right now, they might think that you’re making eyes at him. Perhaps you are, unintentionally or not, and it’s this thought that makes him decide that he’ll humour your conversations once more. 

“Is it?” He replies, cryptic as always as he glances down to the drink menu. This isn’t necessary—he knows every item on display by heart at this point. After all, he’s one of the people who devised it to begin with. “Why do you say so?” 

“From where I’m sitting, you’re about as intimidating as a butterfly,” you counter. He stifles a laugh as he glances back at you. His smile almost reaches his eyes this time. 

“From where you’re sitting? Then perhaps you should move a bit closer—or order a drink that improves your sight.” Another glance at the menu. “Are you ready to order, by chance? The fact that you slid this my way tells me so.” 

“I’d like to move closer…” he hears you grumble under your breath before you shake your head. “I can’t decide. What is it that you’d recommend for tonight?”

For tonight? He recalls vaguely what the weather was like outside before he sequestered himself back into the lounge’s kitchen and storage rooms. The sky had been a mess of gray clouds swirling above, with flecks of white snow gradually descending to kiss the earth. He’s been on land long enough now that the first snowfall of the season has lost its allure—although Floyd still finds amusement in it, when the mood strikes. “It’s rather cold out there right now, isn’t it?” 

More patrons leave until it’s only the two of you left—save for Floyd, who skulks off to Azul’s office with a pleased grin on his face. Jade hums softly again as he sets another glass down. 

They would be closing soon enough. Perhaps something off the menu could be made—as a slight nod to your continuous patronage. 

“Do you like tea?” He asks after a moment, sending a glance your way. He can see your expression perks up slightly. Even if you don’t like it, something tells him that you’ll be apt to accept whatever he sets down in front of you anyway. Perhaps he can use this to his advantage later—he’s beginning to feel bored with only using Silver as a guinea pig for his mushroom dishes. 

“Depends on the kind.” You try to play off your brief excitement with a more relaxed answer as you lean against the bar once more. Jade has to hide the amused little quirk of his lips as he kneels down to put the glasses away. 

“I was taught by Kalim most recently a way to brew tea that I have been itching to try once more.” He looks up from behind the counter, his eyes slightly shadowed in the light, and he can see your curiosity growing. “Would you be so kind as to let me do so?” 

True to his prediction, he sees your lips curl into a smile and you nod, giving him your permission. This time Jade does little to conceal his own pleasure over your comment as he rises back up and brushes his hands on his uniform pants. 

“Wonderful. We may as well go into the kitchen for this. I’m beginning to have doubts that we’ll be seeing anyone else tonight.” 

—------

Truthfully, he doesn’t mind the company. Unlike his brother who often flips between wanting to be around others and wanting to just be alone, Jade finds himself in a consistent state of ambivalence towards company. Your company may rank a bit higher than others, only because you let him do things like this without protest. 

“This is a spin on rhodomel that I’ve been testing out.” he explains, as though giving a lecture as he holds up a tea blend infused with roses. “Traditionally, the drink is a mead made of honey, water, and some syrup—but we aren’t permitted to serve any alcohol, and so I make do with what I can.” 

He recalls Kalim’s instructions for brewing—along with the horrors of just how much sugar the other man dumped into the drink. Jade gestures for you to have a seat as he sets the kettle up. 

The kitchen of Mostro Lounge is large enough to accommodate more than a few people, and yet you situate yourself right next to him at the counter, watching each step he takes with an astute interest. It’s almost flattering just how keen you seem at making sure you don’t miss a single action of his. 

He puts the leaves in the kettle and boils them before preparing a few more herbs of nature that he doesn’t fully disclose. Once the boiling is done, he pours the tea into the herb bowl that he’s prepared, drops a few sugar cubes inside, and then pours the blend into one of two cups he’s set aside. 

“There,” he muses before grabbing a bottle of honey from a nearby counter and adding a dash of that as well. “Perhaps it won’t be as savoury as rhodomel is alleged to be, mainly because we haven’t let it steep for too long, but I do hope it’s somewhat enjoyable.” 

He nudges the cup towards you with his usual coy smile. “Enjoy.”

You take the cup without so much as a second thought, blowing on the hot brew before taking a tentative sip. Truthfully, Jade has never even tried this himself—if it tastes like shit, then he’ll be able to tell by your expression, despite the words of praise you may give. You’re a readable person.

He appreciates that to a degree. 

But then your eyes light up, and you take another sip, and he knows that he’s performed somewhat of a miracle with whatever he’s just made. “This is really good…!” 

A smug look briefly flashes on his face before he leans against the counter once more and finally tries it out. It is quite good, and he gives himself a mental pat on the back for that. Maybe he’ll even pitch this to Azul for a weekend morning special to offer.

Or he'll sell it to Heartslabyul.  

A comfortable silence settles as the two of you enjoy the experimental concoction together. His fingers lightly tap the rim of his cup as he gives you a sly, sidelong glance, studying you a bit more intently than before. Your expression is satisfied and your body language tells him just how relaxed you feel in his presence. Your previous comment of how he’s hardly intimidating to you plays through in his mind once more. 

Perhaps…

“Do you like hiking by chance?” He doesn’t ask subtly—he just outright says it, and he watches as you look at him with a wide-eyed expression. 

“Oh. Sometimes?” You reply.

Not a no, but not a yes. He taps the rim of his cup again. 

“I like to do hikes in the mountains on weekends, when I get the time. You would be surprised at how many fascinating species of flora and fungi exist up there. I collect them for the Lounge, on occasion.” Before Azul shuts that down after a week or so. “You strike me as someone who can be quite adventurous—so, would you like to come along the next time I go?” 

Is this a recruitment? Yes. Is he trying to get you to taste-test his dishes? Yes. Is there maybe a small, selfish reason for asking to steal more of your time without interruptions?

“Sure!” You reply brightly, and this time he does offer a genuine smile. 

Oh, absolutely.

[mystycalypso]

OKAY LETS TRY THIS AGAIN

Welcome To Ravenbrooks season 2 Theories before it comes out

Disclaimer uh- these are the ramblings of a mad man named Jack (me). Mainly so when it does eventually come out I can see what if anything I got right. Now lets get into it below the fold.

1. It's revealed that Jay Roth (Nicky's dad) is the one who died in Trinity's old house

We know in both the book and games and even the pilot, Nicky was the one living across from Mr. Peterson, but now it's Trinity's home. I think the grief of what happened in that house is why they moved

2. We'll get to see the rest of the Rescue Squad's parents

Pretty self-explanatory. I don't know what story purpose they'd serve exactly, aside from maybe how they react to their kids' shenanigans but it'd be really cool to see them. Especially Luanne Roth who I am currently head canoning to be neglectful in some manner (not necessarily on purpose) because of the lines about Nicky running away all the time and no one noticing he went missing.

3. We see a cultist in uniform

I think it'd be really interesting if specifically Trinity finds them mid ceremony or if bad things start happening to her family and she gets suspicious

4. The kids learn Mr. Peterson isn't "evil"

We know in the books that Theo is looking heavily into the cult, and he seems to be doing the same here. I think in Trinity's realization's she'll learn his real motivations for keeping them away, maybe even his side of the stories from episode 3

5. We learn what Trinity did

We have hints at what happened, obviously, but with the teaser image reusing the old photo of kid Trinity, l think we're going to learn what exactly happened and why it was so bad that they had to move towns

6. More nightmare sequences

From the hello neighbor franchise in general, we've learned that both Trinity and Nicky are prone to nightmares, and with the trauma they've gained from episode 6, I assume we'll get to see plenty other creepy cool nightmare scenes. (Seriously, just the maggots from episode 2 make me squirm physically when I see it. Every time)

7. Principle Abanante isn't dead

This might be clear to some, and yeah, it's far from the greatest stretch on this list but I think we'll see her again and maybe that she caused the school explosion

8. Delroy(and possibly Scout)'s investigations

I'm very curious about what Delroy was doing in the tunnels under the school, maybe doing his own investigations on the cult? Scout included to round out the Hello Neighbor hide and seek crew. Likely having to join forced with the current members of the rescue squad to stop a stronger force.

9. We see Theodore's brother in his "new form"

Not 100% sure if he became the Guest or the Thing, and I've seen good theories/evidence for both, but either way I think we'll get to see him with the knowledge that it's him.

10. We learn why Ivan acted the way he did in s1

He was more scared of just the mention of Peterson than anyone, and it's been bugging me since my first watch. I'd like to see if there's reason to his behavior or just general paranoia. Leaning towards the former, knowing this series.

11. Love triangle between Trinity, Nicky and Enzo

I'd really rather this doesn't happen. I hate love triangles so much. They're so dumb and useless and bad. But like I told kaydin during our third watch, I can feel it happening. It's breathing down my neck with the loud annoying sound of needless romantic tension.

12. The whole squad sits together at lunch

They escaped the basement together! The least they could do as friends is actually eat lunch together instead of Nicky and Trinity sitting seperate from everyone else

13. Nicky and Aaron's relationship is revealed

I'm really, REALLY hopeful that their friendship isn't retconned in the series. It was great motivation for Nicky to be investigating Mr. Peterson, and is also just generally sweet.

14. We see Aaron

Nicky was the basement for a couple of weeks. However, Aaron was in there for months! I'm eager to see how he is both mentally and physically. I feel like he's either gonna be much, much worse than Nicky or somehow way better.

15. Quentin becomes my favorite character

This is mostly on here as a joke. I'm not gonna lie, I know he'll be at least a favorite because he's my favorite Hello Neighbor game character. Like- the squeal I squealed when I saw his van and silly Hawaiian shirt was immense. I love him so much, and I hope he gets good screen time.

16. Nicky loses his bag

This is more just a- gut feeling? He's gained it as a sort of comfort item, it seems, and I feel like with the nature and badluck of Ravenbrooks, he's going to lose it. Bonus points if he has to choose between it or a member of the Rescue Squad

17. Mr. martaugh dies

Again, I have- no evidence for this. Yeah, he's in the teasers a lot, but like that doesn't imply he dies. Maybe I just really hope he dies because he's creepy /j, but yeah, uh- if it happens, I'll probably still be in shock even though it's on this list.

18. We see an on screen kiss

Tricky fans cross your fingers and pray, I know I will be. It'll probably just be a quick peck on the cheek, but I can just kind of feel it in my bones. Similar to the love triangle one.

And there you go! My predictions for Season 2!

As soon as it drops, you will probably see my reaction to it and a return to this list to see how close or far I was on these. (Spoiler tagged, of course) But until then, I will be patiently waiting, drawing, and rewatching the show too many times over (wonder if I can hit 50 watches before season 2 drops)

Cya!

- Jack

[ghcstpyre]

eddie munson x gn!reader

eddie helps you make your first dnd character.

content: eddie & r are friends, no descriptions of r's appearance, no pronouns used for r, no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of smoking weed

word count: 1.8k

( yes i used the 5e rules for this because i'm lazy, please don't come for me for not being 100% time period accurate lmao )

hellfire club banner by @/strangergraphics

"So I have to roll these dice to determine my character's stats?”

The paper of your character sheet crinkled and Eddie's shitty mattress creaked as you leaned over the Dungeons and Dragons books splayed out between you to reach for the only regular dice apparently used in this game. The Hellfire boys assured you that you'd get to grips with all the different kinds of dice in no time, but you begged to differ.

Eddie had finally convinced you to have a go at playing DnD with him and the other boys from Hellfire. You'd lost count of how many times he'd begged you to give it a try, but it was only a matter of time before you caved to those big, doey, brown eyes of his.

Much to Eddie's delight, the day you finally caved came and you were now in his trailer, sat cross-legged across from him on his bed with sheets of paper, books, dice and pencils cluttering the space between you as he helped you make your character. The faint sounds of W.A.S.P could be heard playing quietly in the background through his record player.

"That's right; roll four of these guys six times and remove the lowest result each time you roll." Eddie explained, dropping the normal dice - or the D6s as he insisted they be called - into the palm of your hand. "Add each roll up and then you can assign them to the stat you want.”

You sat back down, your character sheet crinkling again with your movements, Eddie's black and red ombre dice clutched in your hand. As you prepared to roll them onto the large, hardback Player's Handbook in the middle of the mess of paper, a crease appeared in your brow in confusion.

"But...what if my rolls are, like, really shit?" You asked.

That signature devilish grin crept its way across Eddie's face, paired with that usual mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then I guess you'll just be playing on hard mode.”

You shot him a pointed look and he laughed, that wonderful sound filling up his little bedroom.

"I'm kidding. Obviously if all of them are shitty I'll let you reroll, I'm not a complete sadist."

The furrow in your brow disappeared, instead being replaced by a small, amused smirk as you raised an eyebrow. "You so are."

Eddie gasped and reeled back dramatically, clutching at his chest as if he'd been shot in the heart. You shoulders began to shake as you giggled at his dramatics and that familiar fluttering sensation began to bloom beneath your ribcage while Eddie tried to regain his balance. He leant forward again, his pointy elbows resting on the little parts of exposed knee peeking through the rips in his jeans.

You'd been aware of these budding feelings for Eddie for a few months now. At first you thought the giddy feeling that bubbled within you whenever you saw him was just joy over a new friendship, but as time passed you began to realise that, nope, what you were feeling was actually the beginnings of a crush.

A crush you were very much convinced was unrequited.

Before said crush could get a glance at what you assumed was some sort of lame, lovestruck look on your face, you squashed that fluttering feeling down as best you could and began to roll the dice.

Eddie watched closely as you shook the dice in your hands and rolled for your stats. His chocolate brown eyes studied your face as they usually did when he knew - or was pretty damn sure - you weren't looking. The slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the cute little Cupid's bow in your top lip, and the tip of your tongue that he could just spy poking out from between your lips as you concentrated on adding your rolls up and jotting them down in your doodle-ridden notepad.

A few stray hairs slipped down into your face as you hunched over your notepad and it took all of Eddie's restraint to not reach over and brush them aside to tuck them behind your ear. There were times he thought you harbored the same feelings he'd hidden away, but he'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself when it came to people he was attracted to - especially when it came to you.

Eddie was painfully aware of the fact that if he made his feelings known to you and you didn't reciprocate, it would put a strain on his friendship with you, if not ruin it completely. Although Jeff had assured Eddie when he sought out his friend's advice that he was "pretty sure" you liked him back, he was simply too much of a coward to put himself in such a vulnerable position.

It wasn't until you said his name for a third time that Eddie was pulled out from his own messy head and back into his messy bedroom.

"Huh?" He willed the heat rising to his cheeks to kindly fuck off, embarrassed that you'd caught him staring at you.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you spied that rosy pink hue blooming across Eddie's cheeks and you automatically reached a hand up to tuck those stray hairs back behind your ear, your eyes flicking back down to your character sheet. You were pretty sure you'd caught Eddie checking you out and just the thought of it being a possibility had your heart thumping hard in your chest.

"Um...I finished rolling. You said I'd want my wisdom stat to be the highest for a druid, right?" You asked, meeting his gaze again.

“Uh, yeah that's right. Gimme a sec,” Eddie chuckled nervously and was quick to grab the Player's Handbook, very much eager to move on from the awkwardness of being caught. He was relieved you didn't seem too weirded-out by it. If anything, if his eyes didn't deceive him, you seemed almost…into it?

He chalked it up to wishful thinking on his part, though Jeff's words did start to ring a little more true than they had done before.

The two of you got to work on building your character - stats, skills, equipment, gold and spells. You were pretty satisfied with everything, save for maybe your Armour Class which left something to be desired.

“Aaand I think all that's left to do is your hit points. You'll want-” Eddie flicked back a page or two in the Handbook. “-Ah, eight plus your Constitution modifier, then for every level above first you can either take a five plus your con, or gamble and roll a D8 for something higher.” His warm, brown gaze rose from the book to meet your own and he cocked his head to the side, some of his unruly dark curls falling in front of his shoulders. “What d’ya wanna do?”

You pondered for a moment before grinning. “Well obviously I've gotta gamble.”

A bright smile broke out on Eddie's face, those familiar little crow’s feet forming at the corners of his big round eyes. If it could, your heart would've leapt out from your chest and right into his hands.

“That's the spirit!” He clapped his hands together and the thick silver of his rings clinked against one another. “But be warned, I won't allow any re-rolls this time so you'll have to take whatever you get.”

You were pretty sure that a D8 was the small, diamond-shaped one. As you reached out to grab the dice, Eddie did just the same. Your hands brushed against one another, sending tingles right up from where your skin touched his, through your body right to the tips of your toes. You heard Eddie's breath hitch and your heart skipped a beat at the tiny little sound.

For a moment it seemed like neither you nor Eddie could - or wanted to - move, and the longer you sat there, frozen, the more you felt your face get hotter and hotter.

Before you could say or do anything, Eddie took your hand and flipped it over so your palm faced upwards, plucked the D8 from its place amongst the plethora of dice and placed it into your hand. When you managed to finally tear your eyes away from your hand in his to look up at him, Eddie's own gaze was already fixated on your face, a small smile on his pink lips and a red hue dusting his pale cheeks.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you began to pull your hand away, but Eddie caught it before it could go too far.

“H-Hey, uh…” He stuttered, gathering up his courage. “...I know you only came over here to make your character but, uh, did you wanna carry on hanging out afterwards?” His hand was slightly sweaty, but you didn't mind it. “We could have a smoke, watch a movie and order pizza or something - y'know, if you want to?” His voice cracked halfway through asking. Eddie wasn't a religious guy, but if you rejected his offer he truly would start praying for his shitty mattress to swallow him whole, especially after a his voice cracked like he was fucking 16 again.

It felt like a mini explosion of butterflies had gone off in your tummy. “Really?”

You looked absolutely star struck; raised brows, glittering eyes, pink cheeks and lips slightly parted. The only other time Eddie had seen you with that look on your face was the first time you'd seen him shredding on his guitar and he knew there and then that he was absolutely fucked. Seeing it again now while you were sat just a mere few feet away had him wanting to pull you in by the hand he still held and kiss you.

“Y-Yeah! I mean, my uncle’s working the night shift tonight so we'd be able to chill out without him hanging around. But no pressure or anything, y'know.” He let go of your hand to scratch the back of his head, chuckling nervously.

The word date hung heavy and unspoken in the air between you.

You closed your fist around the D8 sat in your palm and pulled your hand back towards you as you nodded, smiling brightly at Eddie while your heart hammered in your chest with excitement. “No, that sounds really nice. I'm down for that.”

The giddiest grin broke out on Eddie's face and you were sure if eyes could sparkle, Eddie's would've been the source of a golden-brown disco ball effect as the orange light of the sunset shone through the open blinds over his window.

“Cool! Cool cool cool cool.” Was all Eddie could think to say as the adrenaline rush filtered its way through his body. He fiddled with the thick silver ring on his index finger, unable to keep that grin off his face. “So we'll finish this up and I'll roll us a couple of joints then?”

You returned Eddie's grin. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: The UnIntended Series {Book 1: UnExpected}

Okay, so I'm actually nervous to post this. It's wild. With my fanfiction, I don't really feel nervous having others read it, but this---😬.

Anyway, here is chapter 1. As of now, I'm not sure if I will post the 2nd one. Again it'll only be up for a day or two then I will delete it.

To anyone reading it please give me some feedback rather than a "like". I am partly using this as a focus group/beta read session so feedback is crucial. What did you think? Any part you liked or disliked? Would you want to continue it from the 1st chapter alone? If you came across it in a bookstore or Amazon, would you buy it?

Note I: This has NOT been edited beyond small grammatical issues. Also, I am not 100% sold on the name "Daryl" so don't let it be a hang-up.

Note II: Everything here has been officially copywritten so be careful, I'm the wrong one to try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prologue

He was my addiction. My cloudy sky. My stormy night my thunderstorms. He was my chocolate brownie with the chocolate ice cream on top. He was my passion my need my obsession. He was my poison. My sweet, delicious poison and I couldn't get enough--wouldn't get enough. I needed him like I needed air water food. It was never enough. His sex was killer, his kiss was sugar, and his body was the best creation made by the creator. His love was death. He was--my ruin.

Chapter 1

“Ughhhh, deeper, harder, uuuugh, yes. Right there, right there. Don’t stop! God, yes, yes, yes, yessssssssssssssssssss!”

Though my vocabulary was quite advanced, no other words could form. The sensations had taken on a life of their own.

“Oh shit, damn baby”.

He drops on the bed next to me panting heavily filling the air with our combined scent. I moan deeply still feeling the power of him between my thighs, “That was amazing La”, Daryl says using the name he’s always called me since college.

I remember the day we met in college like it was yesterday instead of the nearly eight years it actually had been. I was coming up the steps in the rec room not looking where I was going then bam I ran smack into him. At that time we were both kids, barely nineteen with plenty more to learn about the world and the affairs of the heart. When I looked at him it was all over, then when he smiled that lopsided, slick grin of his, I was a goner. Signed sealed delivered I was his. He must have known it too. There was no way he hadn’t because the smug look on his face said it all.

He’d said, “I haven’t ran into anyone as beautiful as you around here, I have to know your name”.

Boy was it a cheesy line, but I was nineteen after all and it was the flyest line I’d heard. I was his.

“You’re just going to leave me hanging?”

Daryl’s voice brought me out of my memory, a memory that was once your favorite but was slowly becoming one you wished you could forget. Looking over next to me, I find his dewy brown eyes staring into me with a questioning look.

“Oh I’m sorry my mind was wandering, it was amazing, but--,” I stretch out rolling onto my side and bring my hand to toned his chest. Slowly I trail my fingers down his smooth skin over each ab muscle, down past his mind dumbing oblique indentations to his still alert appendage. The moan that escaped him was a deep throaty one that said he was more than ready for round three.

Smiling, I lean closer slipping the tip of my tongue along the shell of his ear. “It’s always been amazing, I’m always amazing”, I say in a self-satisfied way before continuing to lick his ear.

“Mmm, you’re bad. Trying to start something?”

That same lopsided smirk decorated his lips and my belly flipped.

“Nope, who said we were done to begin with?”

Without missing a beat, Daryl crashed his full lips into mine, but it was me who took control of the kiss. The passion between us was evident and I was sure that if the room had smoke alarms we would have set them off. Another sensual moan escaped his lips which made my nether regions clench from the desire to have him nestled there again. Just as his movements became urgent and his kiss needy, a loud sound filled the silence pf the space.

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

“Mmm, ignore it,” I coax continuing the pleasurable attack my hand was doping under the black sheet of Daryl’s bed.

“Ah, baby,” he groaned out as my finger glided across the smooth tip of his manhood.

With more urgency, Daryl pressed himself against me then brought his large hand to trace along the right side of my body until he cupped my breast.

“Mmm,” I say tightening the grip of my hand around him.

Daryl’s response was to tweak my sensitive and aching nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The action easily brought more moans of pleasure from my lips. It also served the purpose of distracting me. When I felt his other hand skim across my stomach then dip lower and lower the anticipation in me had my back arching off the bed.

Once he made it to the sweet spot between my thighs a high-pitched sigh escaped me. Within seconds he had me panting and mewling from the skill of his fingers and within seconds I needed more of him. Daryl was good at many things, but the one thing he excelled at hands down was his ability to get me from zero to one hundred in thirty seconds flat. It was a skill he’d developed in college and had never relented in holding the record for.

Buzz, Buzz. Buzz, buzz.

I felt the absence of him before he pulled away but when his hand left my body he spoke against my lips, “It could be work, La”.

In this very moment you didn’t give a flying fuck if it was work. Right now there were much more important matters at hand. That was all it took to spark my anger. It was a small action, but it spoke volumes and brought memories of other times before where he’d seemed so aloof. Using all the self-control I possessed coupled with some learned tricks to decelerate my emotions, I clenched my jaw and silently willed my anger to remain in check.

With my eyes glued to him, I watch on as he glances at his phone screen then types in the unlock code. When his face illuminates white from the screen, I continue to watch and crane my eyes to get a glimpse of his screen to see just what it was that had interrupted your moment. Almost as soon as it opens there is a picture of a pretty woman with her legs spread eagle butt naked.

“Oh”,” Daryl rushes out as he jerks from me. The sudden movement has him fumbling his phone but with a stroke of last-minute grace he holds it close to him, hiding it from me. Too late.

The tight hold I had on my anger was suddenly not enough to contain it. With almost inhumane speed, I bolted upright and glared at him sending a thousand hot blades through my eyes in his direction.

“What the hell was that!?”

The heat on my face quickly spread down my neck until my chest felt like I was standing in direct sunlight on the hottest day of summer.

Daryl shrugs, “Nothing”.

“Don’t nothing me, I saw that. Who is that”?

He reached over the bed and placed his phone on the bedside table. “I don’t know La. Must have been a wrong number. It’s nothing”.

My nose crinkled from the stench of his lie. They always had their own distinct scent. I always knew when he was lying and unfortunate he was lying more often than not. “

“Oh nothing? That’s nothing!? So, it’s nothing when you’re getting naked pictures while you’re in bed with me?”

I hadn’t meant to scream the words but once they were out they bounced off the walls, echoing in the room.

“La, calm down,” Daryl cautiously encouraged, “She’s no one.”

Suddenly I felt as if I was going to be sick. The tight knot in my stomach spasmed, a familiar feeling. “No one! So if she’s no one, then what am I?”

Daryl rolled his eyes, and sighed in the exaggerated way he did when he was annoyed with the direction something had taken, “God here we go”.

When he dropped back onto the bed, you bolted to your feet. He was annoyed? Shit, I was past annoyed right now and I had every right to be.

 “Yes here we do, Daryl. What the hell is wrong with you? Who is that woman and why is she sending you naked pictures?”

Silence filled the space as he laid there staring into the ceiling completely ignoring me. He knew how much I hated it when he did this. I was convinced he did it because I hated it so much. I didn’t want to go irate right now, but I was seconds away from going atomic.

“Hello!”

Another sigh came from him before he sat up and reached for me. With his hand inches from my breast I leaned back and slapped it away. It was supposed to be a regular hit but because of my anger it was much more than a regular hit. It was a hard one that made the sting from it ricochet through your hand.

“You know what, fuck you Daryl.”

Without missing a beat, I turned and walked to the chair across the room where my clothes were currently draped over. It was time to go. I shouldn’t have even been here to begin with. Keeping my back to him I began putting on my clothes.

“Unfuckinbelivable! Every time is the same mess. The same thing!”

Angrily slinging my shirt over my head I do my best to keep the tears pricking my eyes away. I was tired of crying, tired of this circle.

“Don’t do this La,” Daryl began, his voice smooth as a hustler on the corner trying to upsell some weed, “Listen her name is Marcella, and we were hanging out a while back. That’s it, we haven’t in weeks though.”

Spinning around to face him my eyes narrowed, “Weeks? We’ve been fucking for years Daryl. We’ve been going around this for years. Years! Unbelievable. Oh La, I miss you, I love you, I’m going to change I promise, it’s just you. Bullshit!”

I felt so stupid to have believed his lies, to have expected anything to change. I felt dumb being here right now. My anger had morphed into hurt and it was becoming harder and harder to fight back the tears.  I should have known nothing had changed, that nothing would have changed. Deep down I knew it was the same bullshit. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw the truth shining back at me. I had been stupid for a long time.

I watch as Daryl slinks across the room to me with a somber look on his face that I knew was an act. For it to be real he had to feel remorse, an emotion you doubted he even fathomed. Raising my hands I try to keep him at bay because I know if he touches me even a little bit my anger will falter, and he will turn it all around. I didn’t want him to placate me with lies any longer.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Now I can’t touch you? Come on, you love when I touch you.”

He laced his fingers with mine before he pulled me closer to him. “I’m the only one that makes you feel good,” he cooed, “The only one that knows how to touch you.”

For emphasis, Daryl brought his hand around to cup my ass in a way that also brought my leg up to wrap around his waist. Groaning, I pressed my palm to his torso trying to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’m the only one that makes you drip”, he says his voice dropping to an impossibly deep baritone that instantly proved his words true. It was a voice I had always been utterly powerless against.

I hated his cockiness, hated that there was even an ounce of truth to his words, hated that he had me right where he wanted me.

“Stop it Daryl, I’m not playing.”

 “Neither am I,” he said against your ear making you shiver. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. As I said, it’s nothing.”

With that, he tipped my chin up, so I looked into his eyes and just like that, it was over. “I want you”.

I searched his eyes for lies though I knew the lies were to be found on his lips instead. I searched frantically and desperately but there were no lies in his eyes.

“You La. Just you.”

His lips crashed into mine, pulling me into a soul sucking kiss. Soul sucker. That was exactly what he is. Soul sucker. I knew he was full of shit; I knew it yet still I allowed him to kiss me, allowed him the time to worm him hands along my body until I felt his fingers creep up my skirt where I am bare and wet. Wet from wanting him, needing him. Damn it! I hated this; I hated him. A moan filled the room, and I am annoyed to realize it was mine.

Traitor. My body was a traitor, always had been. Daryl lifted me and instinctively my other leg wrapped around his waist. When his mouth moved to my neck the hard press of his girth between my thighs sends my head flying back giving him complete access to the spot he loved to exploit and that was when I knew it.

Fuck! It’s over.

Once he has my back slammed against the wall, he follows suit but grinding his hips against me so I can feel the thing I crave.  Without warning, he then slams into me with all the strength and force his powerful body holds. The action pulls a scream from your lips. It’s a scream that is raspy and high pitched all at once, a scream that never stood a chance of ending because before it could, he snapped his lips forward again reminding me that every word he spoke before was true.

“Aaah!”

The force of Daryl’s hips slams into me over and over, harder, and harder until I am seeing stars and unable to catch my breath. All I can do is hold onto him for dear life and pray to whoever was watching this show that you wouldn’t be forever scared by this man.

“You’re mine La!”

Slam.

“Mine!”

Slam.

“--Have been since you were nineteen and will always be mine,” he added, his lips brushing your ear, so you didn’t miss one word.

Slowing down, Daryl circled his hips again nudging your g-spot until you were sure you were going to pass out. In seconds you were clenching around him giving him the satisfaction of knowing you were powerless to him.

“This sweet spot is mine, Leianna, cause I do it the best. Me!”

The possessiveness in his voice could not be missed. He always did get off on claiming ownership. He loved it when I told him I belonged to him, loved when I bore his markings on my skin for others to see, and loved I went out smelling like him. This was nothing different. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he overwhelmed me with the barrage of thrusts that served as nothing more than way to mark you, brand you as his.

Another orgasm claimed me sweeping me up into the frenzy of need that tied us together.

Bringing his hand to your throat he held you there against the wall making you moan louder and clench harder around him. “Say my name La, say it!”

He knew I liked it when he got rough. Fuck him, I thought as another moan fell from my lips. I hated him but I was loving every second of the pleasure he brought me through this show of assertion he was putting on, loved the feel of him pounding into me, trying to mark me. Fuck him and damn me, I loved it all.

“Say it,” Daryl badgered adding a slight amount of pressure. Not enough to hurt me but it was enough to make me wetter.

“Daryl,” I gasp out of breath as he keeps pounding into me against his wall.

“Whose is it? Who does it belong to?”

The air around us has become so thick that catching a breath is nearly impossible and the lack of oxygen has my head spinning.

“Whose!”

His shout brings me back to the moment. our eyes linger and I watch as his mouth falls open clearly enraptured with the pleasure he was finding in me.  

“Yours. Shit Daryl, it’s yours, always has been, yes, yes, yes!”

I feel the tint of shame wash over me. Shame for saying the words, shame for allowing him to put me in this situation, shame for never wanting him to stop fucking me, shame for wanting to stay in this bubble for as long as possible because it would mean he would stay here with me in this moment away from his lies and away from his asshole moves.

Digging my nails into his shoulder I aim to hurt him and with his shout I am pleased to know that I have. With one final thrust that sends my head banging into the wall, Daryl fills me, marking me as we both find our release. For long moments we clutch one another panting as we slowly come down from the euphoria of our bodies connecting, the euphoria I had only ever found in him.

When I am coherent enough I realize that Daryl had moved us back to the bed. I feel his lips press to my jaw, then my neck before he pulls away from my body and walks away toward the bathroom. I take another steadying breath then see him grab his phone from the nightstand before disappearing into the bathroom. Again the knot in my stomach spasms and I feel sick to my stomach as utter disgust and self-loathing washes over me. I was stupid, so stupid. I knew it, and he must have known it too because he knew he had me, he knew it.

The stinging of my tears pushed me into action. Standing on wobbly legs I took a moment to steady myself then fixed the clothes I was wearing. I approached the chair again to finish dressing then dug a note card from my purse and wrote across it with the red lipstick he liked so much. Gathering my things I walked to the bed ignoring the crumpled sheets and placed the notecard on his pillow. Looking around I took a moment to make sure I had everything then walked through the bedroom door towards the door.

I didn’t look back. What was the purpose of doing so? I walked with my head high and spine straight with a head filled with vows to never return but your heart whispered into the abyss of your pain that you’d be back.

[vickyvicarious]

I'll follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie

This is such a "then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone" song I'm losing my mind. It's exactly what I imagine Jonathan saying either to Mina or thinking to himself when he was considering things could take a turn for the worst.

"If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs; If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark"

The whole song is good and a mood for them but the chorus really is the highlight of "wtf do you mean this wasn't written about them"

A classic... I remember listening to this when I was younger and saying it was romantic, and my mom giving me a Look about the implied suicide after the death of a loved one being romantic. I had to clarify not in a 'emulate this' kind of way or anything. And certainly that same 'would they want that for you? no' element is going on with Mina's perspective. But that's not directly in the song either way.

Of course obviously no doubt the chorus/general premise of 'I'll follow you into the dark' is 100% Jonathan's thoughts on Mina turning. That first verse is excellent for his vow to himself. I love the emphasis on "our hands clasped so tight" because again I go wild over the handholding in this book. And yeah, the chorus just repeatedly reaffirming his choice...

The second and third verses are lyrically way less fitting, naturally. If I'm trying to look for it, I can find a comparison in the second verse to Jonathan's time in Castle Dracula. The Dracula as conqueror thing = "as vicious as Roman rule" and the lady in black telling him "fear is the heart of love" while he holds his tongue... Well, like I said if I'm looking I could compare that to the vampire ladies' and Dracula's ideas of 'kisses' and love, and Jonathan have to keep quiet about his true feelings during almost his entire stay.

As for the third verse, again less fitting but it comes closest to Jonathan sticking true to this choice later on. They've traveled together, which they always dreamed of doing, and even if this journey doesn't end the way they hope, then it's okay. He'll stay with her. No matter what, no matter where. But the main star is naturally the chorus.

The tone of the music and the song is so interesting in this context because on the one hand, it's way more resigned sounding than Jonathan ever is. He's burning up with a fierce, volcanic desire to make sure this never happens, and no way does the song get that across. But it is still an if/then and just very clear/firm on what the then will be, which does fit him. Again, it sounds so gentle, like he's reassuring Mina... except if he said this out loud to her she'd feel the need to argue against it, so it could only ever be reassuring to a point I guess. But a great song for them for sure.

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

everything i read in may!

it's that time of the month again! i didn't get to read as much as i wanted this month because unfortunately i have to write this stupid dissertation 😔 but i did also read some really good books SO let me tell u about them!!

The Sunshine Court by Nora Sakavic

I was actually on a book-buying ban and then this book came out and i blacked out and in a day it was in my hands and in another day i had finished it. So so good i absolutely loved it. Reawakened my long-dormant obsession with this series.

To be completely honest, i was never particularly interested in Jean in the original series, but i very quickly fell in love with him. I'm so honestly invested in his recovery and i cannot wait to find out what happens next. It was super interesting to see this world from two new perspectives. I also really enjoyed Jeremy!! Jeremy babe what are your secrets... i need to know... i also really liked that jean's relationship with renée wasn't retconned for the sake of jerejean. Even tho they're obviously not going to be endgame they still get to be really important to each other (and i can't wait for their inevitable reunion at the winter banquet with jealous jeremy 👀). Anyway i'll shut up now but. Thank you nora ❤️

Damascus by Christos Tsiolkas

This book billed itself as historical fiction focusing on early christianity, which is a historical period/topic that i've studied a lot so i was interested. However, the book in reality doesn't really fit that description in my opinion. Bear with me here because the only thing i can think of to compare it to is a modern take on a hagiography.

Hagiographies have this weird semi-fictional, semi-truthful quality about them. On the one hand, they consist of biographical information about a (usually) real person - who they were, how they became christian, what happened to them. On the other hand, they were meant to act as a guide to faith for their readers, and so also include much more abstract discussions of spiritual struggles/didacticism. Damascus really felt the same way, like it was telling a truthful story on one level but, on another, it was meant to be a much more timeless discussion of faith. I'm still not 100% sure if i enjoyed it or not, but it was certainly thought-provoking and really gave me some insight into the experience of being faithful (which i don't personally have).

The City & the City by China Miéville

I thought the concept of this book was really, really interesting and well executed, but the actual plot wasn't so well executed and kind of let the rest of the book down, imo. The concept is of two cities that exist on top of each other. Physically and geographically they are the same city, but political borders have been drawn through it that separates them - for instance, one side of a street could be in one city, and the other half in the other city. Citizens of one city are not allowed to acknowledge the existence of citizens of the other - if they walk past them on the street they must "unsee" them or risk being arrested by the supranational secret police that maintains the borders between the two. If you want to go to a location in the other city you have to pass through a central checkpoint border, and, once across, you must "unsee" your original city. It's a really compelling concept, and I think Miéville explains it really well (much better than me lmao).

The book follows a homicide detective investigating a murder, but when he discovers that the body was driven across the border between the cities it becomes an international case. Unfortunately I found the ultimate resolution of the mystery/story quite unsatisfying :( I would still recommend it but just with a bit of a warning.

The Crow Road by Ian Banks

My parents have been trying to get me to read Banks for ages, and I'm so glad I didn't listen and waited until now because I feel like this book came to me at the right time of my life. It's a coming of age story, essentially, with a surprise murder mystery element that really sneaks up on you towards the end. It is brilliantly written, very emotional in parts and also very funny at others. I also loved it because the protagonist is the same age as me, living in the same city as me, and facing similar feelings of existential dread about the future. Really, really brilliant!! Would highly highly recommend.

On my radar

And that's it! i'm currently about halfway through The Wall by Marlen Haushofer, which I am enjoying but I'm not really sure where it's going/where it can go from here. In June I really want to stick to my book-buying ban, and luckily I have a huge tbr pile to choose from. I'll probably read The Forgery by Ava Barrera next, and I also have a non-fiction book about utopianism/post-scarcity/univeral basic income that I really want to get to. And as always, if you read this far i love you ❤️ and tell me what you read this month/what you're reading now/want to read next month! talk books to me!!!!

[cosmicjoke]

Okay, bravo to AMC's "IWTV" for that last episode, for real.

The reunion between Louis and Lestat at the end had my heart aching in the best way. I didn't think they were gonna' make Armand THIS villainous, but damn, they went all the way, and they went a long way to redeeming Lestat from episode 5 of the first season, too.

Given Armand's deviousness that was finally revealed in this final episode, it shifts all of Lestat's actions from the first season into greater understanding, if he knew exactly how cruel Armand could be, trying to protect both Louis and Claudia from that.

And I finally, truly felt Lestat's love for Claudia, here, too, his breakdown with Louis at the end over her, how they both started crying and hugging each other. That was beautiful. I imagine, hopefully, we'll get to see more scenes of Lestat's and Claudia's relationship, without the coloration of bias that pervaded the first two seasons, to really drive home just why Lestat is so plainly heartbroken over her death.

I also really liked Louis kind of absolving Lestat of his guilt, here, finally admitting to his own responsibility in forcing Lestat to turn her, and admitting to how he wanted Lestat to be miserable because he was, too. I can see where they're coming from, with this angle, with this particular change from the books. Louis WAS miserable in the book, and in the show, and it was that misery that compelled Lestat to turn Claudia in the book. He was afraid Louis was going to leave him because Louis wasn't happy, and Louis was in denial about his love for Lestat, and withholding his love from Lestat on purpose. In that way, Louis holds a large part of the responsibility for why Lestat made that decision. So them just making that kind of more explicit here in the show, with Louis being the one to genuinely beg Lestat to turn Claudia, makes sense. To make more clear the reason Lestat did turn Claudia was, in large part, because of Louis' emotional manipulation of him.

Anyway, I'm sure all those fans that were talking about Louis' evil white oppressor Lestat, and how the beautiful Indian man Armand was going to save him, are all going to abandon this show now, because too bad for them, it didn't turn out that way, lol. Armand really came across as evil here, lol. I'm sure Armand fans aren't going to be happy about that, though lets face it, Armand is a pretty devious guy in the books, though always sympathetic due to his own, awful backstory.

I do wonder though about him turning Daniel and what the implications of that are for his and Daneils' relationship moving forward. The way they framed it makes it seem as if Armand turned Daniel to spite Louis for finally leaving him. Maybe it'll be another instance of not being the truth, and we'll find out Daniel asked to be turned or something. But as it stands right now, it's just an additional evil act to add onto the growing pile of evil acts Armand was responsible for.

Also, shout out to both Sam Reid and Jacob Anderson for their phenomenal acting in that final scene between Lestat and Louis. Ugh, my heart really broke when Lestat tearfully asked Louis about that day in 1973 when he tried to kill himself. When he asks "Did you hurt yourself?", and you could just see the devastation in him, the guilt and pain at not being there for him, and Louis tearfully confessing about what a bad place he was in, etc... ugh. This was definitely the most emotional I got watching this show. You could really feel the deep love these two have for one another, and it largely did away with my negative feelings surrounding the DV from season 1. You really get the sense here from Lestat that he never, ever would want to hurt Louis again, and I 100% believe that.

Anyway, like I said, a stellar conclusion to the first two seasons. I'm definitely looking forward to season 3 now.

[tiikerikani]

I hate to be That Guy (who starts the queue)

(but somebody has to do it)

I'm trying to keep this brief because I need to sleep so I can do this again tomorrow.

2023.12.09 – Tavastia-klubi, Helsinki

It's cold. I decided to start hovering by the door at 5:15, though I'd already been standing around outside since 5. (Doors were at 6:30.) I can't feel my toes. Why am I like this???

Janne pops out and is going to the mall across the street (he returns later with a bag of food from the supermarket). He thanks me for the miniature and says it's "fabulous".

Senpai comes out carrying a backpack and says hi to me, then goes down the street the other way. I assume their hotel is over in that direction, as I saw three more band members exit carrying bags and going that way.

The space feels so small now, now that I've been to several newer and bigger clubs. I'm dead centre and I don't remember the barricade being so close to the stage in here. I can literally reach over and swipe a set list if I wanted to. When it's this close, being in the centre is no good for taking pictures of Senpai but that's okay today because I'm mostly trying to get more pictures to match my miniatures.

Leo's got an invisible microphone, lol :P

Senpai asks who's coming back tomorrow. A bunch of hands shoot up into the air. "IF ONLY WE COULD HAVE ACTUALLY GOTTEN TICKETS!" "YOU SHOULD DO A THIRD SHOW!!"

Yes my too-much-gesturing is 100% Senpai's fault

Too many of them wearing sneakers today

The Regular Groupies were talking to ... somebody who waves at me. "Hello!" she calls. It's her again!! "HOW DID YOU GET IN TO TAMPERE!??" I don't recall actually seeing her there last week but she'd have known because miniatures appeared there (and she's definitely Teemu's significant other, as the two of them left holding hands).

Janne says that "the set list is the same [tomorrow] but the atmosphere will be different". It won't be the first time I see them on a Sunday and yeah Sunday crowds are generally a bit more subdued.

I also asked him to suggest a song for me to learn next (with the caveat that I might not take it up). He named one of the old old songs; it's in the music book so I wouldn't have to work out the chords/melody. ("Have you learned all the songs from the book???" What, no :D ) He says it's fairly easy but still has interesting subtleties, and that he wrote it with Teemu so it's also, like, written on a piano and thus more playable on a piano.

"But if you want to do a new song..." he continues, "there's the one that we haven't performed yet? Don't remember the name, it goes like..." He's thinking of Jamesin takki and I think it's funny that I'm filling in the song title for him. "It'd be really challenging, I'd say it's the hardest song on the album. It has the modulation and it's in a difficult key...E-flat minor or something?" ("I'd transpose it, I'm lazy :D")

But oh no I know. It's the one that made me seriously reconsider my silly idea to learn the entire album on the piano, which I came up with before I listened to the whole thing.

Yeah I dunno about that song.

(Edit: I just checked my notes, it starts in F-sharp minor, which is much more reasonable. He was probably thinking of Ilman mua, which IS in E-flat minor and which, yes, I did transpose but could just as easily learn in the original key.)

I also think it's funny that they have to take all the equipment and the barricade and everything down just to put it all back up tomorrow. The equipment I understand, to keep it under lock and key, but I think the barricades come down so they can get the stuff out the door? Dunno.

I'm feeling lazy, here's the set list. (It is also on my arm as usual but I've had to come up with new symbols and I wasn't sure I'd remember what they meant by the time I got home.)

[Concert write-up archive and master calendar]

[fizzingwizard]

I finally watched Persuasion. As a fan of Jane Austen, I can't approach it without thinking about the book... try as I might, I have a bias. It's not impossible to make Austen movies I like - I adore the old BBC Pride and Prejudice mini-series, and I enjoyed Emma with Anya Taylor-Joy with only a few quibbles. Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet in Sense and Sensibility was slow-moving but a decent adaption (although I struggled to like the romantic interests as much as I did in the book). Northanger Abbey with Felicity Jones wasn't my favorite, but neither is the book.

So, Persuasion. I wanted to keep an open mind. The first few scenes didn't work for me, but then things started to look up for a while once Anne went to Uppercross, and for a while I really did like the not-quite-canonical-but-close-enough modern spin.

I was back and forth about the humor. A few jokes landed well, others felt forced. But it will be interesting to see how I feel about it if I ever watch this again. The tone was of course completely different from the book, but I don't mind that. Persuasion is a difficult book to make a movie out of because so little happens, so much of what does happen occurs mainly in Anne's head, and Anne is one of Austen's most tactful and conscientious characters. With the absence of narration, she needs a sense of humor and distinct voice to avoid coming across as judgmental and dull.

Speaking of narration, I was also back and forth about Anne introducing everyone and cracking jokes and explaining how she feels at the moment etc etc. Sometimes it worked for me, others it didn't so much. I definitely don't hate it, but I guess my opinion is the tone of this movie is confused. Is it a comedy or isn't it? The source material is not, so that's always going to become an impediment without a lot of work.

Now here are the things which really bugged me:

There were so many comments about how women don't need marriage, women don't need a man, etc the same kind of phrases parroted in all romance movies these days, faced with the same paradox of all the characters involved winding up married by the end :P Only Mrs Russell is spared with her "European tours," which was a fun addition, but doesn't help the weirdness of watching woman after woman declare "You don't need a man to be happy - but I know you want one!"

Wentworth is one of my favorite Austen love interests, but I strongly disliked him here. In the book, yes, he is bitter, but it isn't so freaking obvious. He hides it by fooling around with other girls and generally ignoring Anne. In the movie they don't have him ignore her and they more or less erase his leading Louisa on. Yes, they're still a thing in the movie, but his thing with Henrietta is NOT, which makes him seem so much more sincere about Louisa. So even when we find out he doesn't really love her, it's hard to blame him. Also he's just sad all the time. Not attractive. Really hard to see the successful, hard-working, thoughtful young man Anne was so in love with.

Anne's awkwardness takes away from her chief quality which is that she's supposed to have good judgment. In the name of humor, they made quite a fool out of her. I'm sure it was to make up for how hard it is to express "no one pays attention to her" in a movie versus in a book with exposition. But, like, she's meant to NOT be awkward, lol. And worse than that, her narrative throughout the movie is quite judgmental of her family - and although they deserve it, when Wentworth comes out with "She's privately judging everyone in her head," it's like - well, yeah, Anne, you definitely are! You're 100 times worse than Lizzy Bennett lol. Which is not true to Anne's character at all.

Mary is a pest so it's no surprise that she lost her few redeeming qualities in the movie version. But the Musgroves also lost their less virtuous qualities. Henrietta isn't toying with both Wentworth and Hayter; Charles Musgrove isn't self-serving; Louisa is Anne's close friend (a change I actually liked a lot, but it still falls under this umbrella); Louisa and Henrietta have just as much, if not better, judgment and tact than Anne around difficult types like Mary. The reason this is a problem to me is it sucks out so much of the complexity in their relationships. Anne can't shine because everyone else doesn't need her. They are fine. She's the problem, not them. Also Louisa being so likable makes her jump from the steps kind of out of nowhere and ridiculous. I'm certain she was meant to seem playful rather than conniving, but I didn't vibe with how that scene was handled.

A small thing but it made me roll my eyes: After Wentworth says Anne is judgmental, he then blames her... for being easily persuaded. And yeah, that is the point of the book, that is their point of contention. But imagine saying someone's opinions are strong and then immediately following up by saying their opinions are weak. That's basically what he did here. That's why this is not how things go down in the novel, lol.

Now, in the book, yes, Anne goes up to Benwick and starts soothing his grieving heart with poetry and sermons. And yes, even in the book, it makes me cringe. But at least in the book she has time to lead into it. She doesn't just go, "Hi Benwick, heard your wife died, you should read Byron." She makes a little bit of small talk beforehand, AND the book does take care to point out that she waits to gauge his reaction to her advice before saying anything more bold. At least book Anne seems aware that she could be saying something totally cringey.

I'm torn because I did really enjoy Anne and Wentworth becoming "friends." But it felt so unearned. Technically it was earned: by Anne's support of Wentworth during the meal, and by his admiration of her taking charge of Louisa's injury. But I didn't feel that anything had changed, that's all I can say.

"You'd make a great admiral" This felt like feminism SHOEHORNED IN soooo hard. I wouldn't mind if it didn't feel like there were so many token feminist moments in this movie, without really having any characters who broke typical female tropes in romance movies. And it's even more ridiculous when almost directly afterward Anne acquiesces to her sister without so much as a protest, even though it was Wentworth's personal request that she stay with Louisa, AND what she preferred to do herself. Book Anne is not a great advocate for herself, it takes her a lot of time to get there. But movie Anne is definitely no Admiral.

Mr Elliot. I think I shouldn't be surprised that he's so odious... but he's so much worse than in the book. I really don't think that Twilight-style love triangles work in Austen adaptions. They are too juvenile. Elliot getting all up in Wentworth's business, as well as Wentworth being so openly annoyed by him just existing, even before he even began courting Anne, just felt so teen drama to me. And then the result is him wildly making out with Mrs Clay! I may be remembering wrong, but I'm pretty sure they weren't officially a married couple at the end of the novel, rather a couple of convenience. But that's no big deal. By having him propose to Anne then immediately start making out with Mrs Clay, they reduced Elliot to a horn dog. AND they completely erased what ACTUALLY makes him such an awful person: his treatment of Anne's old school friend and her husband. That was just entirely left out! In the book it's a long, honestly pretty boring passage of just telling the story to Anne, so I'm not surprised but - it's the revelation of Elliot's true character, and I don't like that they replaced his cold-heartedness with "he's a playboy."

The "Who loves longer, men or women?" speech. -__- I love that speech... in the book. For many reasons. But it's so truncated here that I don't like it one bit. Wentworth's letter saves it a little, by softening Anne's insistence that men don't love as long as women and making it something more realistic. But I can't like it because ANNE is supposed to make it realistic. Once again she's not allowed to show her discernment of human nature. She can only be despairing over unrequited love at all times.

What I was most curious about, beyond anything else, was whether Wentworth and Anne's discussion of persuasion (THE TITLE OF THE STORY) would be included in the finale. It is so, so important. Why? Because Anne spends the whole novel beating herself up for letting her family persuade her out of marrying Wentworth the first time, yet also struggling to decide how she could have brazenly ignored the advice of people she loves and respects when she was so young and inexperienced. And she concludes that she was NOT wrong in being persuaded, because when you love someone and they are worthy of respect, you take their opinion into account. You don't have a crystal ball, you don't know that they're right, but you also don't know that they're wrong. Wentworth's conviction that she should have blindly followed him out of love alone is the beginning of tragedy for many a heroine, after all. This doesn't mean she made the RIGHT choice! The whole point is maybe there wasn't a right choice, but a choice needed to be made nonetheless. And she made it, and it's not worth resentment and bitterness over, and though there will naturally be regret, she doesn't need to blame herself for it. That is such a critically essential final thesis of the novel, and honestly, THAT is feminist: a woman isn't wrong simply because a man feels conviction, and soft power is also power!!! But did it make it into the movie? NO OF COURSE NOT. The movie is the story of a girl who didn't follow her heart and got punished for it, and the only reason she gets her happily ever after is because the Perfect Boy waited for her with big puppy eyes.

Now I've written all that I'm sure it seems like I hated the movie. Well, I don't - I just don't think it's a good adaptation of Persuasion. It misses the point of the story. It messes up characterization so badly that they're hardly recognizable. Out of fear of Anne being too boring, they gave her a sense of humor not her own and the price was her strength of character. She's only "better" than her sisters because her sisters are truly awful. Unfortunate.

[shadowsong26fic]

Random Crossover Notes

I don't intend to actually write this (even as an AU outline; at least not yet; I'm hoping it will either die and/or interest some of the maybe five people who are invested in both fandoms enough to be worth exploring further, lol).

But it came bursting back into my head tonight and in an effort to get it out, going to ramble a bit!

This is a Wheel of Time/Battlestar Galactica crossover. (Of the...it's not a fusion exactly; and it's not a 'the Fleet stumbles across this world' direct crossover; it's 'characters from BSG exist and have always existed on this planet and fit into the fabric of this world'. That kind of crossover. the second kind could Also be interesting but that is another problem I Do Not Need

This includes decisions about:

Baltar

Caprica

Tory

Roslin

Billy

Starbuck (though not much)

Some speculation/vague thoughts about Lee and Zarek

Also includes an OC of mine.

Part of why I don't intend to actually Write It is I don't...really have all that much yet.

This did originally exist 10-15 years ago; back when I wrote a single one-shot and had plans for a much longer AU in WoT and was active in BSG fandom. Accordingly, it's more aligned with book!verse than show!verse, though I'd probably bring in some show!verse stuff I liked if I were actually writing the thing. How many of the original details I'm actually remembering (beyond the First Concept Idea) and how are new as of the past few hours, IDEK. It does also involve an OC of mine because screw it, this is my self-indulgent BS, I wanna.

((She could probably be cut in this case but. Again. Mine. I wanna. XD))

Anyway.

So, as with a lot of my initial Concepts, this starts with Baltar. Obviously, he's a channeler.

He's also Seanchan.

He's da'covale, but da'covale to a Very high-ranking High Lord, meaning he has higher status than some of the Lower Blood. He has yet to be identified as a channeler.

My OC, as usual, is Atia, his daughter. She's marath'damane and is well aware of what she is. She's...been raised in this culture, and wouldn't resist the searchers/sul'dam when they come for her...except she's aware of what her father is. She doesn't like the idea of him being gentled/killed and while there's only so much she can do to help she feels like she has to do Something.

Caprica is a sul'dam, in service to the same High Lord/Lady as Gaius and Atia. She and Gaius meet and fall in love with each other; at some point she twigs onto either him or Atia, and the three of them run away together. Not sure if they manage to find a place in the Return fleet or if they cross the ocean All By Themselves, but.

And then at Some point they run into some subset of the WoT cast but...yeah, this is pretty much as far as I got XD Gaius would probably eventually end up at the Black Tower. He and Caprica would probably be Very Into the idea of Warder-bonding each other when they get there.

...and yeah, that's about as far as I got, lol. Figuring out where other BSG characters might fit into this world is...complicated, lol. Partly because only half-remembering the tapestry of cultures/alliances/etc.; partly because in a couple of cases there are roles that would fit An aspect of a character but Very Much Not others (e.g., I can honestly see Lee aligning himself with Galad's subset of the Whitecloaks except there is zero chance of Bill as a Whitecloak sooooooooo yeah. Athena would be either another sul'dam or Aiel, I can't decide which works better. ...actually, Aiel; she and Boomer are both Shaido but Athena breaks with her clan when the Aiel fracture? Or something...)

Anyway, if anyone else has any thoughts I'd appreciate them XD

ETA: So I myself had some additional thoughts, lol.

First--Starbuck and Mat. They just. They would either be Instant Bros or Thoroughly Despise One Another there is no in between. They're just. Like. If I was doing a Fusion, Starbuck would 100% fill the Mat role, they are so much alike and I love them both for it. Anyway, I lean towards timelining it so they can be Bros because that's way more interesting/fun for me personally. See above re: self-indulgence, lol. (They have also slept together at least twice.)

Second--Zarek might actually be interesting as a Whitecloak. Not in the sense that he fully believes/buys into their rhetoric, but...I don't know, it could fit his blend of 'I believe some of this, but I'm also using it as an avenue to gain Power.' And again with the Lee vibes, especially if Lee starts Considering joining as part of the storyline, even if he doesn't start there? IDK though, I keep going back and forth on this one.

Next, Roslin. I toyed with a few different options for her. She's definitely not an Aes Sedai; initially I was thinking she might be the head of one of the groups like the Kin (if I'm remembering the name right? The women who were rejected by the Tower and formed their own quiet underground networks) or an Aiel Wise One. But then I realized--you know who absolutely is an Aes Sedai?

Tory (probably Grey ajah, maybe White).

So then it all falls into place. We squeeze a little country/principality somewhere onto the map; normally the ruler there wouldn't merit an Aes Sedai advisor, but after a messy/disputed succession, Siuan did agree to send someone, and that someone was Tory. Billy, of course, is Roslin's son/heir.

Still thinking about where anyone/everyone else might fit, but also this line:

Caprica--In the end, we're not much more than thieves. We stole a damane. We stole an a'dam. ...we stole ourselves.

...so yeah. XD And now opening it up for additional thoughts.

[agustdiv1ne]

pose (m) — cyj

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: model!yeonjun (which isn't really an au bc he's real,,,,, model yeonjun is real), assistant!reader, fluff, smut, angst

wc: 12.5k

synopsis: being world-famous model choi yeonjun's personal assistant wasn't easy. after six months on the job, however, you'd say that you had a pretty decent grasp on it. now, with fashion month right around the corner, it was your duty to make sure everything was in order, but of course a few things didn't go as planned.

warnings: 18+, swearing, sizeable timeskips, allusions to a panic attack, model!beomgyu appears and he is an ass to put it lightly, explicit sex, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, fingering, mirror sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, i beg of you), pull-out method, jealous + possessive yeonjun

disclaimer: i am not 100% educated about how modelling and the fashion industry operates. if there are any discrepancies, please forgive me! i'm only trying to appreciate model yeonjun, man.

note: no i am still not over model yeonjun don't touch me

♤ playlist ♤

masterlist

choi yeonjun.

a twenty-one year-old fashion superstar, one of the most sought-after models in the industry, the ceo of his own modelling agency, young, suave, intimidating; choi yeonjun was a lot of things, you had learned in your time working for him. in your eyes, his most admirable trait was that he was no-bullshit. you couldn't sugarcoat anything with him, and you appreciated not being forced to tiptoe around the truth in order to save his feelings. he didn't seem to even have feelings, really. you don't think you'd seen him smile fully more than twice.

and as fashion month, one of the most important months in his — well, in any model's — career, raced closer, you knew that wrenching a smile from the man was akin to mission impossible. at least your job was to book him for events and to make sure he remained on-schedule, not to find ways to make him grin. you were an assistant, not a damn clown (though some of your friends would say otherwise).

but back to your job, the current reason why he presently invaded your thoughts. 

you knocked on the door to his office, hearing a muffled 'come in' from inside. you pushed it open with a planner tucked under your arm and your cell phone in your hand. he acknowledged you with a wave of his hand, not bothering to look up from the files on his desk. you were used to this type of greeting, though it used to bother you. you had learned not to take it personally. 

despite the very nice view sitting only a few feet in front of you, the skyline behind him never failed to awe you. ceiling to floor windows allowed for a breathtaking view of the city of seoul. multiple stories down, cars shuffled along in the traffic that never seemed to end no matter the time of day. crowds of people sauntered by like ants, businessmen in a hurry scattered between groups of tourists and locals alike. the sun sat at the peak of the sky, its rays streaming through the tall windows into the spacious office. for a chilly winter's day, it was sure sunny. 

it felt like you were on top of the world when you were in here. the space was certainly fitting for your boss, given his immense success. you could only dream of having this for yourself.

“good afternoon, mr. choi,” you greeted as you sat down. now with half a year under your belt, sitting in the chair across from him had your mind trailing back to the first time you ever met him, when he had given you the position you currently work in. you could remember your trembling form in this very seat, your heart stuck in your throat, like it was yesterday.

“i don’t deal well with incompetence. my last assistant failed at a vital time in my career. i cannot allow that to happen again,” he explained, his scrutinizing gaze burning your skin nearly enough to make you cry. you knew what week he was talking about, everyone knew, but you refused to waver; you wanted this job. no, needed this job. this opportunity was your only chance to work behind the scenes at the international level, to break the glass ceiling that allowed you to watch but never get a taste of the industry, not to mention the promised salary thar piqued your interest. you couldn’t fail, not when you’ve gotten this far. you straightened your spine further, locking your eyes with his.

“i can guarantee you that i will not fail, mr. choi,” you replied with all of the confidence that you could possibly muster, meeting his glare with a determined expression. you wouldn’t dare back down, not when working in this damn industry was your dream. though you were young, your résumé spoke for itself, and so far you had not faltered once during this interview. you prayed that that was enough to prove yourself to him. from whispered rumors, you had heard that his standards were sky high.

too focused on acing this interview, you didn't notice the tick in his jaw at the sound of that title coming from your pretty, rose-tinted lips, nor did you notice how your fingers subconsciously dug into the skin of your thighs as his ebony eyes pierced yours. oh, but he did, he knew all too well the effect he had on you. the way you gulped whenever his voice lowered slightly, chewed at your lip whenever he leaned towards you, played with your fingers whenever he swept his hair back with his hand; it was all that much obvious that you were attracted to him, you didn't even need to verbalize it. 

that factor didn't bother him like it did with his other applicants, oddly enough. he should have questioned whether your professionalism would be at stake because of it, should have questioned if you'd slip up, but he could see that you were here to work and work your ass off only. you weren't here to flirt with him, nor were you here to fuck around. you had a hunger for success in your eyes, and that was exactly what he needed in his assistant.

he gave a silent nod at your answer, causing your stomach to do somersaults. the response seemed noncommittal in your mind, and a noncommittal response usually meant a lack of interest, and a lack of interest meant you wouldn't get the job, and-

his eyes left yours, and you secretly thanked your lucky stars. you weren't sure how long you could stay strong with him basically glaring at you. your racing thoughts didn't slow.

a few minutes of silence passed, though it felt like decades, as he shuffled through your résumé again, occasionally glancing up at your rigid form. you quietly inhaled a shuddering breath, nerves consuming more and more of your being the longer he stayed silent. it felt like a thousand pound weight was crushing your chest.

perhaps you hadn't done as well as you thought.

he abruptly closed your résumé, lifting his head to face you once more. his eyes trailed up your form, the tips of your ears heating up at the brazen action, before he stood. you could only muster an anxious stare, all you could do was anticipate a harsh rejection and cruel words. what came next was nothing of the sort.

the corners of his lips raised by a millimeter in what you could call a smile, causing a shock to zip through your body. he leaned forward as he spoke, his hands resting on the edge of his desk.

“your clothing choices are going to have to change drastically if you are going to work for me, but we can work on that…”

he extended a hand toward you, a single perfect eyebrow raising in silent challenge.

“congratulations, miss y/ln, you’ve got the job.”

luckily for you, it was natural to sit here now; you had done it enough at this point that it was essentially second nature. being a nervous wreck was no longer an option, and you knew it. that was like a one-way ticket to being fired.

“on time as always,” he quipped monotonously, closing the portfolio in front of him and moving it to the stack sitting to his right. scouting new models — new talent, as he liked to say — never ended. 

as he organized said pile, you took the time to fully take in his appearance. his jet-black hair was styled up in its usual fashion, slightly mussed from running his hands through it, you assumed. all you could see of his outfit was a tight, white mock neck sweater along with a thin silver chain circling the base of his throat. you could only imagine what the rest of his outfit looked like, your mind wandering off to picture his lithe, muscular body in tight black trousers that hugged his thighs with a form-fitting shirt like the one he currently wore-

professionalism. professionalism is good, you thought, nearly smacking your forehead out of habit. you refrained at the last second so as to not be questioned by your boss for your odd behavior, opting to mentally berate yourself for even having those thoughts in the first place. he was your boss for christ's sake, not some random man you could ogle on the down low. especially not when he sat a mere three feet away from you.

“i assume you know what i wanted to speak with you about.” the sound of his voice knocked you from your thoughts, and you had to stop yourself from flinching. sometimes, you truly did hate your brain. 

“yes, sir,” you swiftly replied as you flipped open your planner, neon pink sticky notes stuck on with scribbled reminders and questions that you needed clarification on. you might have been overdoing it, but you’d rather that than not do enough. he leaned forward, like he always did when he spoke with you, yet there was a degree of intensity in his gaze that you had never seen before. you licked your lips before you continued, your heart pumping a little faster, “you will be leaving for new york in three days. i’ve arranged for your private jet to be ready at six a.m., and i will be taking a separate flight with the rest of the accompanying staff as per usual-”

“no, you won’t be,” he interrupted, and you tried your best to mask your shocked expression. “you’ll be taking my private jet as well. after the shitshow that was the spring-summer shows that happened before you were hired, i can’t have you be off on your own, no matter how much you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.” his stone cold expression and short reply gave away little information, though you could catch a glint of frustration in his eyes. the small downward quirk of his eyebrows confirmed it for you; you still weren’t sure what exactly had gone on during that last fashion month, and, to be quite frank, you didn’t think you ever wanted to know.

“understood, sir.” you nodded, clicking your pen and noting to cancel your flights to and from each city. at the same time, your chest swelled a tiny bit at the somewhat-praise. such words from him were a rare occurrence, so you’d take what you could get. and who were you to reject the chance to take a private jet around the world? 

you raised your head as you finished writing, your hands now curled in your lap while you subconsciously twirled the pen around in your fingers. “mr. kang will be taking over your duties here for the month just as you requested. the first show you will be walking is telfar, from what i understand you’ve had your eyes on for a while…”

as you examined every minute detail of the next month's schedule with him, you knew that this fashion month would be a million times more successful than the previous one he continued to mention.

or, well, at least you hoped so.

“so i heard that he’s making you go in his jet, hm?”

your head whipped around to the source of the familiar voice, finding one of your co-workers and good friends, sihyun, with a wry smile pulling at her lips. given that she was one of yeonjun's makeup artists, you were nearly attached at the hip. you traveled everywhere together for his schedules, after all.

you rolled your eyes as you swiveled your chair to fully face her, “don’t say it like that. it’s purely for business purposes. don’t act like it isn’t, you weirdo.”

she sauntered over to the side of your desk and leaned her palms against the surface, her grin growing wider as she teased you. “you have to admit it’s a little sudden, though, no matter how important this whole thing is.” she brought the back of her hand up to her forehead as she dramatically sighed, “what ever will i do without my travel buddy? i’m going to be stuck in business class all alone.”

“cry me a river,” you deadpanned, turning back to face your laptop where an article with things to do in new york sat open. you left in two days now, and you knew that you would need something to do when you weren’t running around to yeonjun’s shows. “you’ll be just fine without me.” 

“rude! and no, i won’t be,” she pouted, but her expression cracked a mere second later. her teasing grin returned. “what if you’re the main character in, like, a hallmark movie? i can see it now: cold ceo and his assistant fall in love as they spend time together on a business trip,” she exclaimed with sparkles in her eyes, hands haphazardly waving about. you pretended to gag in response.

“this isn’t some hallmark movie, this is reality,” you playfully sneered, no real aggression in your tone. it was difficult to be genuinely annoyed with her, despite her being a little younger and miles more energetic than you. makeup artists needed that level of spunk, that creative drive, while someone in your position did not. you swore it was a miracle that you two got along so well. the opposites attract trope that you had read so much about in your teen years could be applied to friendships too, you guessed.

she pursed her lips, her chocolate-colored eyes narrowing, “but-”

“you need to get out of your head, it’s dangerous in there.”

“i’ll have you know that my head is fine, thank you very mu-” she started before her eyes focused on something behind you, her perfectly-shaped brows raising. “oh, hello mr. choi! i was just leaving.”

your shoulders tensed as sihyun scurried off, your boss' footsteps growing louder behind you. you could feel his presence looming above you as his hands came to rest on the back of your chair. you hadn't realized how close he was until he spoke.

“top ten things you should do when visiting new york city?”

you flinched at the proximity of his voice as he read off the title of the article you had been reading, his warm breath brushing against your ear. you nodded stiffly all the while heat rushed to your face and down your neck. you prayed that he couldn’t feel it radiating off of you. “u-um yes, sir.”

he hummed, reaching over your shoulder to place his hand on your mouse. his face was mere centimeters from the side of your own now, but he didn't seem to notice your internal predicament as he scrolled through the article. the dark umber hue of his irises reflected the white of the screen as his eyes shot back and forth across the page. his plump lips were parted, and his brows furrowed in what didn't seem to be anger, but curiosity. not that you were staring at him through your peripherals. you? staring at him? no way!

(yes way.)

he straightened his spine, his face no longer dangerously near your own, and you finally felt like you could breathe again. he cleared his throat before he finally replied. “perhaps we’ll be able to find a little free time to do some of these activities.”

maybe you spoke too soon, because the oxygen in your lungs suddenly felt as heavy as lead. before you could find your words, however, he had walked away. you could hear the door to his office click shut a short ways down the hall. 

“what the hell does he mean by ‘we’?” you mumbled before you buried your head in your hands. you groaned quietly, willing your weak heart to stop racing. he couldn’t have meant just you and him, couldn’t he?

“lord, please give me strength.”

early mornings at incheon international airport were nothing new to you. this time, however, you stood on the tarmac rather than in the terminal.

the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, bathing everything in sight in a soft apricot hue. you'd usually be watching the sunrise through a window while sitting in one of those stiff airport chairs, a painfully overpriced cup of coffee in your hand and sihyun by your side. no matter how much you complained about the scam that was airport prices, you missed your coffee. oh, and you missed sihyun, too, even though the last time you saw her was just over an hour ago.

the dark sedan you currently sat in slowed to a stop near the airport's entrance, the door automatically unlocking in order to let sihyun to get out. she spun around abruptly, the soles of her sneakers audibly scraping against the pavement.

“good luck, and let me know if anything happens with him!” she whispered as she raised her eyebrows, grabbing her suitcase before turning around and sauntering over to the terminal doors. she turned around once more with a cheesy grin on her face, loudly calling “i want to see my hallmark movie come true!” before disappearing into the airport. you sighed, slamming the car door shut before the car started moving once more.

on second thought, you didn’t miss sihyun. 

you shivered as the chilly late-winter air nipped at your cheeks. your puffy jacket and gloves thankfully shielded you from most of the cold, yet your teeth continued to chatter involuntarily. your bags stuffed full of clothes and toiletries stood by your sides as your eyelids drooped. no matter how often you found yourself in this situation, the three a.m. wake-up never failed to get to you.

god, you really needed some coffee right about now. 

you finally glanced over at the man standing a few feet away from you, comfortable yet luxurious clothes adorning his body. you still weren't sure exactly how you felt about having to fly with your boss only a few feet away for fourteen hours. yes, fourteen damn hours in the presence of yeonjun. you released a quiet sigh as another airplane sped off into the air, another one landing, watching as yeonjun’s personal pilot maneuvered his jet over to where you stood waiting. 

yeonjun turned to face you. slight dark circles might have found their home underneath his eyes, but you were sure he looked far better than you right now. he spoke over the rumble of the jet’s engine, “don’t worry about your bags, the ground staff will take care of them for you.” he eyed your exhausted form with slight concern. “and there’s coffee on board if you need it. follow me.”

so you did look like shit, then. how wonderful. 

you replied with a lethargic ‘thank you’, following him up the small set of stairs that led into the cabin. he made his way to a seat close to where you stood while you remained still at the top of the stairs, playing with your fingers awkwardly. you had no idea exactly what you should do — sit in the farthest seat? sit somewhat near him? in the seat next to him, no, hell no, not next him, that would be weird.

he regarded your nervous form carefully, “sit wherever you’d like. it’s a long flight, so get comfortable.”

you nodded before carefully making your way over to a seat that lay diagonally behind him. the coolness of the leather seat soaked through the seat of your pants, until you noticed a set of buttons along the armrest. a recliner, heated seats, a built-in charging port...this degree of luxury was new, awkward, even. you tried to ignore the discomfort running through your veins, pulling out your phone only for it to automatically connect to the on-board wi-fi. 

you nearly groaned. while you were used to the standard business class commodities already, this brought a whole new meaning to ‘traveling with style.’

you tried to busy yourself the best that you could: playing games on your phone, staring out the window, trying to figure out the best heat setting for your seat, but those options didn't take up a long period of time, maybe an hour. and now you were back at square one, thinking about how awkward it was to sit in the close vicinity of your boss — in complete and utter silence — for fourteen straight hours. 

a few minutes of spacing out later, it seemed your nerves had receded enough for exhaustion to creep back into your brain, your head narrowly missing slamming into the wall next you as you knocked out for a split second. your head shot up, making sure you hadn't made some loud noise that caught the attention of the man nearby, before relaxing when it looked like yeonjun hadn't noticed anything. 

screw the coffee that you had been thinking about all morning, you needed some sleep. at least you knew that could take up a good chunk of this flight. 

you reclined your seat before pulling the cover over the window above your head to block the blinding sunlight streaming in. allowing your eyelids to flutter to a close, you succumbed to the enticing prospect of sleep, the sound of the jet's engine fading away into a dull rumble.

•

“this is your pilot speaking. it seems like we’ll be experiencing some strong winds soon as we will be passing through a storm. please remain seated as we expect some turbulence.”

you mind barely registered those words before you pried your eyes open. the plane rattled slightly as you sat your seat back up in its normal position. you didn't even notice your leg beginning to shake.

you had never done well with rough landings or heavy turbulence. no matter how much your parents tried to shake you from it when you were younger, their attempts hadn't soothed your nerves one bit. you kept the irrational fear to yourself for the most part, you were much too embarrassed to share that freely. currently, the only people who knew were your parents and sihyun.

in past flights, sihyun usually kept you distracted and calmed you down when she noticed your anxiety, helping you through breathing exercises and the like, but without her here, you were now doomed to endure it alone. you sure as hell didn't count yeonjun as a potential candidate to help you, and there was no way for you to call sihyun when both of you were thousands of feet above the ground, either. all in all, you were absolutely, positively screwed. 

you could feel your heartbeat quicken as the plane jolted upwards. your fingers gripped at the armrests at your sides, sinking into the soft leather in a poor attempt to ground yourself. you squeezed your eyes tightly shut as the momentum of the plane jerked your body to the right. you tried sihyun's method to calm you down. deep breath in. one, two, three, four, five. hold for five, and exhale for one, two, three, four, five. you repeated that a few more times, but you could only distract yourself for so long, a strong gust of wind — which made the previous bouts of wind seem like puny breezes — causing another surge of anxiety to shoot straight down your spine. 

this was a fucking death trap.

deep breaths weren't an option now, the air in your lungs as heavy as lead and your throat concerningly dry. tears stung your eyes. blinking them away proved to be no use. a small whimper escaped your throat as your stomach dropped along with the plane.

you hadn't realized that someone now occupied the seat next to you until you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. despite your blurry vision, you locked eyes with yeonjun, who now sat in the seat next to you, a worried frown marring his face. 

his soft, deep voice calling your name somewhat shook you from your panicked headspace, your vision clearing a little when he turned you by your shoulders to face him, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. if this was any other time, you probably would have been reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess. right now, though, your brain had your thoughts racing fast enough for you to not register the lack of distance.

“breathe with me,” he coaxed, keeping his eyes locked with yours. his hand covered your own on his chest, the other resting on your shoulder to help ground you.

your first few breaths remained shallow, frustration mixing into your swirl of emotions with every failed inhale. he remained patient, trying his best to ignore the tears streaming down your cheeks as he encouraged you to try again until you could. it took what felt like hours before you were able to breathe normally again, the steady stream of tears steadily coming to a halt. by the time you had finally calmed down, it seemed like the turbulence had followed suit. the plane no longer jerked around, and the sky was clear now. the plane had made it through the storm.

as soon as you registered the warmth of his chest under your palm, you snatched your hand away, apologies streaming out of your mouth despite mental exhaustion creeping into your system. “i’m so sorry about that, mr. choi, i-”

“don’t apologize,” he interrupted in a quiet voice, his demeanor seemingly off, yet you decided to ignore it. he probably felt uncomfortable having to help you like this. “if you feel anxious at any other time during the rest of this flight, please call me over, alright? i don’t want you to have to suffer through this again.”

you nodded before adding on a small, "thank you, sir." 

his lips twitched upward, but the miniscule smile disappeared in a blink of an eye. he gave your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading back to his own seat. 

your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

this had to be the worst way to start this entire month off. a breakdown right in front of your boss, in his own private jet. great. fucking awesome. you felt like screaming. instead, to save face, your hand came up to run through your tangled hair, and you winced as your fingers pulled at the knots. he wouldn't fire you, you repeated to yourself. he wouldn't fire you for something like this. he might have been stern, but he was fair. you'd be fine, right?

while you attempted to shut your brain up, unbeknownst to you, yeonjun's own thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

he had never seen you like this. his usually calm, cool, collected assistant had right in front of his eyes, tears welling in your eyes and your breathing ragged. you had calmed down since the first moments he had sat beside you, and you seemed to be feeling much better, but something about this whole interaction bothered him. in a way, it had shaken him — definitely not to as severe a degree as you were a few minutes ago, but still. you always acted so confident and assured in front of him, yet this…this completely shifted his perspective. it made him realize he didn't truly know you, didn't know anything about you at all, really.

and for some reason unknown to him, that fact left a bitter taste in his mouth.

beep! beep! beep!

you groaned loudly, swinging your arm over to slam into the offending alarm clock. the piercing beeping stopped. reluctantly, you opened your eyes, only to be met with the bright red numbers glaring back at you in the dark room.

four fucking a.m. 

despite being fifty floors above the street, the dull white noise of the city's neverending traffic reached your room. the city truly lived up to its name, but the noise had to have been worse in time's square. you thanked god that you booked a hotel away from that crowded tourist trap. 

you crawled out of the plush bed, courtesy of the luxurious hotel you currently sat in. you were sure yeonjun was up, too, right next door.

yes, his room was right next to yours. yay.

you wished that you could just go back to sleep. this was not what you wanted to be doing right now, but you knew that you couldn't. your job was on the line this month, you had to prove that you weren't like his past assistant. you had shown him that you were much more organized, more punctual, more honest than his previous assistant in the past six months, but that was no safeguard to keep your job. there was no way you could be the reason he was late to or missed any schedules this month without being fired.

and so you dug through your suitcase for your outfit of the day before dragging your feet to the bathroom. you needed to be ready in an hour.

nothing a scalding hot shower couldn't fix.

•

“are you ready for today?” were the first words out of sihyun’s mouth when she met you in the lobby. her hands visibly shook at her sides.

“how many cups of coffee did you have?” you fired back.

“not many!” she cringed, “maybe...five?”

you shook your head.

•

seventeen hours of sprinting around the city later, you decided that no, you were not ready for today. and no, a hot shower couldn't fix everything. 

“everything hurts,” you groaned, wincing as the sedan bounced into a pothole. you rubbed at your temples, trying to soothe the migraine that you had been nursing for more than half of the day.

sihyun sent you a sympathetic glance, “i get it, but you better get used to being tired. this is how every day is gonna go. we even ended earlier than usual today.”

sadly for you, sihyun's warning proved to be true. on paper, yeonjun's schedule already looked packed, but nothing could have prepared you for the constant running around the city. as if sihyun's word wasn't enough, yeonjun wasn't joking when he told you that this month would be busy, either. 

you guessed that you'd have to come back another to do the tourist-y things that you were looking at in the office back home.

countless fittings, shows, interviews, and photoshoots filled your days, leaving you with little time to enjoy what the bustling city could offer. most days ended near one in the morning, with a final fitting or photoshoot or even a fashion show. when one brand's show dragged on until 3 a.m. — on your third straight day running on less than three hours of sleep — you felt the urge to rip your hair out. 

the fourth day passed nearly the same way, the only difference being that you arrived back at the hotel a little earlier than usual, around midnight. you went straight up to your hotel room, not bothering with food despite the aching pain in your gut telling you to eat. you gave yeonjun a quick goodbye before the door clicked shut.

before you could effectively faceplant into the bed, you felt a buzz in your back pocket.

“god, what now?” you grumbled while fumbling with your phone. tapping on the screen revealed a text from sihyun.

from sihyun: do u wanna go get some mcdonald’s with me? i’m sure ur starving

your stomach growled. impeccable timing.

to sihyun: hell yes. i’m gonna ask the boss if he wants any too, i’m sure he’s as hungry as we are

she responded with an okay and a suggestive emoji, adding that she'd meet you in the lobby in five minutes. your eyes rolled in response before grabbing your bag, making the short walk to yeonjun's room. a couple of short knocks later and he opened the door, his form now clad in a plain white t-shirt and some sweatpants. his eyelids were half-closed in pure exhaustion, voice gravelly as he asked you what you needed. you tried to ignore how attractive he looked. and sounded.

you bit your cheek before responding, “sihyun and i were going to grab some food. i was wondering if you would like some too?” 

he raised an eyebrow, “let me guess, mcdonald’s?”  

you hummed sheepishly in affirmation, and a ghost of a smirk pulled at his lips. 

“i’d love some. but order a lot, please, i’m starving.”

you nodded, letting him know that you'd knock when you got back, then turning to walk to the elevator. you saw sihyun standing near the entrance when you reached the ground floor.

“took you long enough,” she teased, but even her expression seemed fatigued beyond belief. you shoved at her shoulder as both of you walked out of the skyscraper onto the sidewalk outside. “did he want some?”

“yeah, he said to buy a lot.”

“luckily for him, i was already planning to,” she chuckled. the streets were still crowded enough for you not to worry about walking down the block to the closest mcdonald’s. “we haven’t eaten since what? this morning?”

“sadly.” boy, you certainly had a way with words when you were tired.

the golden arches glowed like heaven's gates on the corner the next block down. the thought of hot fries had you thanking the universe for the twenty-four hour fast food chain. you almost felt like crying at the promise of food. not great food, but food nonetheless.

walking up to the counter, sihyun glanced up at the menu before grinning at the cashier. “hi, yeah, can i get fifteen cheeseburgers, six fries, and three drinks?”

the poor cashier looked like he wanted to slam his head into the counter, but hey, after the day you all just had, you needed all of that.

•

“i’ll see you tomorrow, gotta deliver this.” you raised the brown bag in your hand as the elevator stopped on a lower floor. sihyun’s floor.

though her eyes could barely stay open, she smirked as she stepped out of the elevator backwards, singing, “have fun with mr. ceo.”

you stuck your tongue out at her before the door could shut. 

“good night, hyun.”

“g’night.”

the elevator started up again.

sihyun was just joking. she had to be. she didn't really think that yeonjun could ever have feelings for you...and that you would ever act upon your feelings...right? 

the ding of the door sliding open made you jump. time to face the root of your unprofessional thoughts.

you knocked on his door. the lock clicked open within seconds, as if he was waiting for you. you couldn’t blame him. you extended the bag towards him with a small smile, “here you are, sir. i’ll be next door if you need anything else.”

he caught your arm before you could saunter off, “wait, would you like to eat with me?”

“i wouldn’t want to intrude, i’m sure you’re tired-”

“i don’t mind.”

“okay,” you conceded, stepping into his room once he opened the door wider.  

the room dwarfed your own by a long shot, but you figured that he was used to these types of commodities. and you thought your own room was too big.

he guided you over to the large couch nestled in the back corner of the room, overlooking the bustling cityscape. you sat on the end away from him as you unwrapped on of the burgers. the crinkling of paper drowned out the noise from below.

you two initially ate in silence, the atmosphere awkward and suffocating. you didn't know why he even invited you in if he wasn't going to make conversation. 

“what drove you to become a model?” you asked out of the blue. he provided no answer, so you glanced over only to find a shocked expression painting his face. 

you backtracked, “sorry, forget i said anyth-”

“no, no, you’re fine,” he interrupted. “it’s just, no one’s ever really asked me that.”

“not even interviews?”

“not even in interviews,” he agreed.

“well, then why?” you shifted so you were facing him, your eyes catching his. he maneuvered to face you too while stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth. you never realized how much he could eat until now.

“i’ve always been interested in fashion. how garments are made, how you can combine different pieces to create a certain feel in a look, all of that inspired me. it still does. once i got casted it was like a dream come true, but i hated that company with a passion.”

“is that why you started your own?” you stared outside, taking another bite of your burger. he looked over at you. this was the most talkative you’ve ever been around him. 

he liked it. 

“for the most part. i didn’t want someone controlling my every move. everyone there was so scared i’d tarnish my image somehow, telling me i couldn’t do this and i shouldn’t do that. plus, staying there wouldn’t let me start my own brand one day.”

“that’s the goal, huh?” you glanced over at him.

he nodded, and you two fell back into silence again. it didn't last long.

he unwrapped another burger. “can i ask you a question?”

“you just did,” you mindlessly replied, eyes going wide when you processed what you just said to him. your face felt hot as you made eye contact with him. “oh, u-uh, sorry, i-”

“no worries, it’s interesting to hear you without a filter,” he replied smoothly, ignoring your visible embarrassment. a shock jolted you when you saw a small, genuine smile on his face. not a smirk, nor a split-second twitch of his lips, but a smile.

“u-uh good to know,” you quitely stuttered. “go ahead.”

“what made you want to work for me?”

“i’ve always been a planner, and i’ve always enjoyed fashion. i thought working for you would give me both of those things,” you replied simply.

“nothing else?”

“well, the salary certainly caught my eye-” you slapped a hand over your mouth. “i really need to stop talking, don’t i?”

a short chuckle escaped him, “at least you’re honest.”

this yeonjun seemed so much relaxed, casual, a far cry from the emotionless robot you had pinned him to be. munching on burgers and fries and slurping at his drink, he looked like a normal twenty-something year-old in this environment. well, except for the whole luxury hotel room in the middle of a big city thing.

the silence filling the room comforted you now, the last of the burgers and fries being inhaled by you and yeonjun. he watched as you nearly tipped over off of the couch, waking up just in time to catch yourself. he muffled a laugh behind the last bite of his burger.

“it’s pretty late, we should probably get to sleep,” he suggested in that same low voice from earlier. a brief shiver traveled down your spine.

“you’re right,” you said as you stood up, stretching your limbs in a graceless manner. that movement revealed a strip of your bare stomach below your shirt, and he looked away. he nearly slapped himself. what was he, a teenage boy?

“goodnight, yeonjun,” you called softly as you walked to his door, not noticing your own slip up with his name. you shot him a smile as he got up from his own seat. “thank you for tonight. it was nice talking with you.” you turned to open the door.

“goodnight. and y/n?” you spun around to face him again, a large grin on his face. he liked hearing you call him by his first name. “thank you, too.”

you were wrong, choi yeonjun was far from the hardass that you first pegged him as. 

one last photoshoot late the morning after, and you were on your way back to the airport.

“i’ll see you when we land in london!” sihyun exclaimed after she had hugged you tight enough to expel almost all of the air from your lungs. she whispered the next part, as yeonjun sat only a couple feet in front of you two, “remember, i’m still waiting for my hallmark movie wish to come true! especially after what you told me today.”

“come back to reality, hyun,” you whispered back, flicking her forehead in an affectionate manner. she climbed out of the dark van, her nose scrunched up, with the few other staff members present. soon enough, they entered the ever-crowded airport, and you and yeonjun were being shuttled off to wherever his jet currently sat waiting.

running a hand through his hair, yeonjun resisted the urge to ask you what exactly sihyun had meant.

you had to say, london's schedule was at least a little less busy than new york. you actually found time to eat normal meals now, and the flight wasn't too bad, either.

more time also meant more time for sightseeing. 

you and sihyun tripped around in your free time, going from schedule, to big ben, to another schedule, to the tower of london, and so on. before you arrived, you assumed london would be severely boring, but you were proven to be very wrong, the days passing like lightning until you found yourself on day five in this city.

“maybe buckingham palace today?” you turned to sihyun in the hotel lobby, yet you were met with a sheepish grin, like a child who had done something wrong. you questioned her with your eyes.

“i might be, well, meeting up with an old friend? she moved here a couple years ago, and she reached out to me last night when she heard i was in town...” you pursed your lips when a mischievous smile formed on her lips.

“you know what? you should invite yeonjun to come along,” she sang, but you immediately shook your head.

“are you crazy?”

“no, just a romantic,” she teased.

“a hopeless one.”

“hey!”

you cackled until you saw yeonjun approaching out of the corner of your eye. both you and sihyun turned to greet him.

“hello, mr. choi!” sihyun called. “y/n was wondering if you would like to go sightseeing with her today. i would go with her, but i’m meeting with a friend after our schedule is over for the day.” you shot her a murderous glare, asking her with your eyes why in the hell she would do this to you. 

despite his blank face, you found curiosity in his gaze, eyes shifting to you, “sightseeing, hm? does our schedule end early today?”

your glare melted as his eyes met yours. “around five p.m. today, sir,” you replied automatically. you knew this damn schedule like the back of your hand at this point.

“i will, then.”

“perfect!” sihyun butted in, “let’s start the day.” you sent her another glare once yeonjun walked past you both.

“you’ll thank me later,” she mouthed, shooting a quick wink your way. you suppressed a groan.

•

the dark sedan pulled onto a side street, yeonjun slipping out of the front seat to open the door for you. you gave him a soft 'thank you' in return.

gray clouds covered the sky above as you walked towards the gargantuan estate, guards with their ridiculous hats and tomato red tunics catching your eye from afar. 

“i knew it was huge, but seeing it in person is completely different,” yeonjun observed. “those guards look ridiculous, though.”

“i agree,” you said, “i’ve always wanted to take a picture with one, just to say i’ve done it. it’s probably illegal, though.”

“confessing to your employer that you want to commit a crime isn’t very professional, you know,” he teased in a monotone voice, causing heat to travel up your neck to your face. 

you scrambled to save yourself, “i didn’t mean it that way!”

“i know,” he chuckled. he acted more relaxed when he was away from the business side of things. you were glad that you were able see this side of him, without all of the hardass tendencies that came with running your own company. you had the feeling he couldn’t find the time to relax all that often.

“let’s take a picture with them. far away to be legal, of course. i can’t be on the news for this.” 

“of course,” you laughed.

you stopped about fifty feet away from the guards posted in front of the tall gates, unlocking your phone and handing it to yeonjun. he backed up a few feet, holding the phone in front of his face to snap a few pictures.

as soon as his arm lowered, you walked over to examine the photos, leaning over your phone together. 

“you really don’t know how to pose that well,” he spoke in an amused tone. 

“well not all of us can be world-famous models,” you complained, stomping your foot lightly.

“aren’t you just the cutest couple!”

both of you turned to the voice's origin, finding a short elderly lady standing just a few feet away. 

“oh, w-we’re not-”

“thank you,” yeonjun interrupted your protest, offering her a polite smile in return.

“oh, would you like your picture taken? you two just remind me of me and my husband back in the day.”

your eyes widened, “uh-”

“yes please,” yeonjun handed his own phone to the woman, before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close. you plastered a grin onto your face as she pressed the button. 

as she handed the phone back to him, she pulled yeonjun close to whisper loudly, “marry this one, love, it’s hard to find someone so special in this world nowadays.”

she walked off with a final wave of her hand and a wink directed towards you. you gulped as you sent her a tight smile.

if he was bothered by the old lady’s comment, he didn’t show it. “come on, let’s go get some food.”

the next morning, with no schedule until two in the afternoon, yeonjun found himself in a café in a small alleyway, a steaming black coffee sitting in front of him.

“i don’t know what to do, soobin,” yeonjun explained, “she’s my assistant, for christ’s sake.”

the man in question — a fellow model based in seoul, also one of yeonjun’s best friends — set his cup of coffee down on the small wooden table between them. “well, it sounds like you have some semblance of feelings for her, even if you don’t want to admit it. and you said that she gets flustered around you?”

yeonjun hummed.

“then she might have feelings for you, too, but it’s up to you to do something about it. she must be terrified to lose her job.”

“how insightful,” yeonjun quipped.

“don’t be an ass,” soobin glared, now nibbling at a croissant. the back corner of the café allowed for decent privacy, he doubted any of the media would find him here. they always assumed that he’d be at some swanky restaurant, those idiots. 

he ignored soobin’s comment. “someone mistook us as a couple yesterday,” yeonjun sighed, smiling a little at the memory. that little old lady had no idea. “they even told me to marry her.”

“you sure seem happy about that,” soobin shot back, a cocky smirk plastered on his lips. “you’re whipped and you don’t even know it.”

“shut up,” yeonjun weakly shot back, nose scrunching. “this is the last thing i expected to happen.”

“same here, buddy, same here.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing at all,” soobin replied, hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. 

if you thought your time in london felt short, the six days spent in milan felt like only a few minutes.

“the days tend to pass by faster as the month goes on,” sihyun explained. “you’ll get used to it!”

on top of the normal fashion week activities, you found yourself shopping in expensive stores that you never thought you'd find yourself in. you only bought a few pieces, but that was enough money down the drain for you. yeonjun took you to a few italian restaurants, speaking in italian to the servers as if it were his native language. so far, you knew he could speak three languages. how he picked up italian, you had no idea, but you were grateful for it.

it also didn't help that those moments nearly felt like dates. every. single. time. yet you forced yourself to brush it off, making a move was off-limits. these were simple business meals, right? right? 

for your peace of mind, you considered them just that.

despite the constant inner turmoil, being surrounded by beautiful architecture and art and people had your heart leaping, and spending time with yeonjun caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. it was too bad this week had come to an end so soon.

‘but off to paris, i guess,’ you thought, a dark car carting you off to the airport once again.

“i’m sorry, what?”

“it seems there’s only one room booked under this reservation,” the concierge clarified with a sympathetic smile. “unfortunately, we’re fully booked this week. there’s no way i can find you another room.”

great. just great. you had done so well until now with planning and organizing and remaining on time, but you really had to get thrown off by a simple reservation? 

“jesus christ,” you muttered, turning to yeonjun. “i apologize, sir. i can stay at the hotel a couple of streets down where sihyun is staying if need be-”

“even her hotel is fully booked. all of them are right now. i can offer you to stay with me, or you can call her and see if she has enough space in her room to have you stay there.”

“i appreciate the offer, sir. let me call her real quick,” you excused yourself, walking outside. you hit her contact with shaking fingers. you looked up the dark sky as you waited for her to pick up, before scanning the busy street in front of you. late nights didn’t seem to faze these people.

“hello?” the phone muffled her voice, but you could still understand her.

“please tell me you have room in your hotel room,” you pleaded, desperation creeping into your tone. 

“i don’t. it’s like a small box, and my bed is twin, babe. i got the cheapest room available. why?”

“i, uh, might have only booked one room over here, but yeonjunofferedtoletmestaywithhim-”

“woah, woah, slow down, he what now? your life really is a hallmark movie! and don’t you deny it!” she exclaimed. you could hear her elated giggles.

“you shouldn’t be celebrating this! what do i do?” you frowned as you dragged your hand down your face.

“stay with him, duh! i don’t have room over here for you anyways.”

“fine.” you let out a shaky sigh, “but if something goes wrong i’m going to punch you.”

“you wouldn’t, you love me too mu-”

you ended the call.

•

changing with the knowledge that he sat outside had you sweating bullets. you still hadn't talked about how the sleeping arrangements were going to work, but you had been eyeing that couch from the moment you had stepped in the room. you didn't know if you could handle being any closer than that for more than two minutes.

you stepped out of the bathroom while tying back your hair into a ponytail. exhaustion creeped into your bones, the jet lag had never truly left ever since you had landed in new york. yeonjun already sat on one side of the bed. 

“thank you again,” you broke the silence first. “i can sleep on the couch.”

“no, i’ll be sleeping on the couch, it would be rude of me to make you.”

“no, no, no, you need better sleep than i do, i’ll take the couch.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“how about we share the bed, then?” he suggested. “i stay on one side, you stay on the other.”

you mulled over the idea for a few seconds, before shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“that could work.”

he nodded, the atmosphere thick with tension. this was new territory, stuck between the gray area of business and relationship. both of you could sense the change, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

you crawled into the king-sized bed, scooting all the over to one side, nearly on the edge of the mattress. yeonjun followed suit.

he flicked off the light. “good night.”

“good night.”

the first sensation you felt when you awoke the next morning was something warm wrapped around your waist.

your eyelids blinked open to find a pair of arms around you, hands linked above your belly button. yeonjun's face was currently pressed into your neck. your face felt like a burning fireplace.

“holy shit,” you whispered to yourself, trying to slip from his grip. it was no use. his arms had you trapped. 

“oh fuck.” you heard a groggy voice from behind you as he pulled away. your squirming must have woken him up. “sorry about that.”

“i-it’s fine,” you stumbled over the small sentence. it’s not like you minded, anyways.

he moved over to stretch, a satisfied groan passing his lips. he seemed to have gotten over that incident pretty quickly.

“time to start the day.”

•

“you what?” sihyun screeched before you smothered her mouth with your hand. you smiled sheepishly at the bystanders walking by, offering a silent apology for your friend’s actions. you turned your eyes back to her, eyes narrowing. the nighttime rush seemed to be universal across all big cities.

“shush! there’s people staring!” you hissed.

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” she shot back, completely disregarding what you just said.

“we didn’t have time! it’s not like i could pull you aside and say ‘hey, i woke up in yeonjun’s arms this morning’ in the middle of a damn schedule! you think i want other models to hear that shit? no!”

“but still!”

“but nothing!”

she scoffed, stabbing at the salmon on her plate. “at least the plot is thickening. i kinda like this.”

“quit it with your hallmark movie theories, i beg of you.”

“never,” she chuckled. 

four busy days later, you stood on top of the eiffel tower with yeonjun. sihyun had made up some excuse to not go, even though your departure was scheduled for tomorrow. her loss.

"“the city looks beautiful from up here.” you looked across the cityscape, taking in the lights that stretched on for miles in all directions. the sun had since set, leaving a deep blue blanket in its place. “i never understood the appeal of paris. until now, at least.”

“it isn’t dubbed the city of love for nothing,” yeonjun replied, “it has to be beautiful.”

“not necessarily,” you said. “love can be an ugly, vile thing sometimes. there’s flaws in any relationship if you look hard enough, but i guess all of that ugliness could be hidden behind a guise of something beautiful, in the end.”

“i’ve never thought about it like that,” he murmured.

he didn't realize that he had shifted closer to you until you had turned your head towards his, your noses nearly brushing against each other. he watched as your eyes flitted down to his plump lips, your breath hitching in your chest when your eyes met his again. you found an intense glint in his eyes that you had never quite seen before. not during your last meeting with him, not ever during a show, this was foreign. you couldn't quite put a finger on what it meant.

everything seemed to move in slow motion as both of you began to lean in, the sound of your pounding heart drowning out any noises from below. your mouth felt dry as your eyelids fluttered shut.

ringringring!

both of you jumped at his loud text ringtone, and you stepped back. everything felt...off. 

“we should get going,” he muttered. you nodded wordlessly. there wasn’t anything for you to say.

a charged air surrounded your bodies as you silently made your way down to street level. neither of you spoke to each other on the way back to the hotel. 

the final show. one last show, and this month would officially be over.

you and yeonjun hadn't spoken a word to each other since last night, and you had taken the couch. he didn't protest your choice. you hoped sihyun didn't notice the uncomfortable silence that permeated the car as you made your way over to the venue, but you knew she did, she just wasn't commenting on it. 

you stood off to the side, out of the way of the designer and his assistants rushing about the backstage area. you watched silently as they put the final touches on each outfit and saved last-minute wardrobe malfunctions before a model needed to walk. it was amazing what this team could do in such a short period of time, they flowed like a well-oiled machine.

models soon began to file back into the main backstage area. you stared down at your feet, trying not to make eye contact with any of them as they returned from their changing rooms in casual clothes. you almost wished you could be invisible at times like these.

“hey, aren’t you yeonjun’s assistant?” 

your head shot up to be met with a man maybe a tiny bit shorter than your boss, with long brunette hair flopping into his face. his soft, almond-shaped eyes gave you a sense of friendliness. 

“that’s me. what did you need, sir?”

“just wanted to introduce myself.” he extended a hand out, “it’s nice to meet you.”

you took it, giving his palm a firm squeeze, “likewise.”

the conversation between you flowed easily. you had learned that he too was a model from korea, originally from daegu, but most of his activities were based in seoul. he had only been in the industry a few years, a 'late bloomer', he liked to call it with a chuckle.

“so, how’d you start working for the big ol’ ceo?” he turned the subject of the conversation to you.

“i interviewed for the job. i guess he found me to be a good fit, and that was that.”

“hm, how about you interview for me?”

your eyes widened. “u-um-”

“c’mon,” he took a step closer, “imagine working for me instead. i’m sure it’d be eons better than working for that asshole.”

“he isn’t an assho-”

“oh, but he is. are you sure you wouldn’t rather work for me?” he countered one of his eyebrows raising in disbelief. “i bet i’d pay you way more than that bastard, how much do you even make?”

“that’s not a very appropriate question,” you frowned. he placed a hand next to your head, essentially trapping you against the wall behind you.

“either he’s brainwashed you, or you’re lying,” he murmured, deep voice dropping lower than you thought possible. your hands began to shake as he leaned closer. 

“get the fuck away from her, beomgyu.”

you had heard that name before, mostly from yeonjun, and it was never a good thing. this was the infamous choi beomgyu?

oh god.

beomgyu sported a shit-eating grin as he turned to face him. “oh, hey, yeonjun. fancy seeing you here. i found your pretty little assistant over here by herself. shouldn’t let her stand here alone, y’know.” 

yeonjun’s hand balled up into a fist, but he didn’t punch him. yet his jaw remained locked as he gritted out his next sentence, “she can take care of herself, now get. away. from. her.”

“fine, fine, you win for now.” he licked his bottom lip as he glanced back at you before he walked off, “you know where to find me if you ever change your mind, sweetheart.”

yeonjun stared at you for a few seconds before reaching forward and grabbing your wrist. his ironclad grip forced you to follow him through the packed backstage area. you averted your eyes down to the floor, avoiding the questioning stares of the other models, stylists, and makeup artists that you nearly ran into as your boss rudely plowed through them. you made eye contact with a visibly worried sihyun, who had halted organizing her station. she looked ready to run over, but you shook your head. you wanted her to keep her job.

he didn't stop until you stood in front of his dressing room. he wrenched the door open, rage rolling off of him like crashing waves during a deadly storm. you wouldn't put it past him to fire you on the spot, your chest tight as he pulled you into the room.

you shouldn’t have let beomgyu flirt with you when you were in a professional environment, you shouldn’t have spoken to him when you knew damn well that yeonjun disliked him, you shouldn’t have let any of what just happened happen when you and yeonjun had grown closer in this past month. how could all of this come to a hapless end all because of a flirty, arrogant model who had no regard for those who worked below him? 

those thoughts swirled in your mind like a tornado as the door slammed shut behind you. your heart felt stuck in your throat while you tried to find the proper words to express yourself. 

“mr. choi-”

opening your mouth to apologize proved useless as his lips collided with yours. you reacted with a tiny squeak as he pressed your back into the door, his hands pinning your arms next to your head. he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, mouth molding against yours until your senses were overwhelmed by him. 

it seemed like you weren't getting fired, at least.

“tell me to stop,” he growled when he broke the kiss off, “right now.”

“what if i don’t want you to stop?” you whispered, absolutely breathless. his tongue ran over the edge of his top teeth as he searched your glossy eyes for any sense of regret. finding none, his lips found yours again, eventually breaking away to find the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned out loud when he bit down right below your ear. he kept going, your thighs squeezing together at every nibble he delivered to the delicate flesh. 

his hands traveled to grip your hips, one abandoning post to play with the hem of your skirt. 

“is this okay?” he mumbled against your collarbone. 

“yes,” you gasped as his fingers rubbed against the inside of your thighs, sending a gush of arousal into your panties. he didn’t waste time pulling your skirt down to your ankles, panties following the article. you stepped out of them while he waited on his knees.

you almost choked on your spit when his plush lips met your clit, sucking and licking and tonguing at the tiny bud rapid enough to make you see stars behind your eyelids. you stifled your moans with your palm when one of his long fingers slipped into your soaked entrance, pumping at a fast pace. your legs tried to close around his head, but he used his free hand to keep them spread, fingertips digging into the fat of your thigh.

“yeon-jun!” you cried out when he added another finger, feeling your high rapidly approaching. “f-fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

“fucking do it, cum for me,” he ordered, before he sucked on your clit hard, fingers curling upwards against your plush walls in the most mind-melting way. the pressure building in your stomach finally snapped, legs almost giving out under you if it weren’t for yeonjun’s surefire grip on you.

he held you up until the aftershocks of your intense orgasm finally calmed down, though your thighs continued to quake as he stood up. his lips found yours in bruising clash of lips and tongue. his teeth nipped at your bottom lip as he guided you forwards.

“can you take more?” he questioned, lips hovering millimeters over your own. 

you released a pathetic whimper, “p-please.”

that one word plea had him bending you over the couch in front of you.

“good girl,” he rasped.

you looked forward to find a mirror a few feet in front of the sofa. you watched as he unzipped his trousers, bringing his boxers down with them until both pieces of clothing were discarded on the floor. his long, thick cock slapped against his stomach, the tip a angry red. the sight made your mouth water.

he brought his hand down to rub over the swell of your ass, the other bringing his dick to your entrance. he seemed to hesitate.

“i’m on birth control, just fuck me,” you whined while pushing back your hips to get him to enter you. he stilled you a small slap to your ass. 

your eyes rolled back as his cock breached your walls, letting him slowly work his way until he was fully sheathed in your slick warmth. he allowed you to adjust to the sheer size of him, taking when you started grinding back into him as a sign that he could move. 

your head drooped forward as his hips began to move, long, powerful thrusts that had you crying out. 

“yeah, that feel good, pretty girl? my big cock fucking open your tight little hole?” you whined out a shaky ‘yeah’ in response. 

“yeah?” he mocked, your mind dizzy with the different sensations bombarding your mind. “knew it, prim little girls like you just need a good cock and they’re drooling for more, isn’t that right?”

your walls squeezed around him, the pace of hips picking up with every thrust until he pistoned in and out of your sloppy hole. “that fucker could never make you feel this way, you hear me? never. who’s making you feel this good?”

too far gone to answer, you didn't bother to control to moans pouring out of your lips. a hand traveled up your still-clothed spine to find its home in your hair, pulling your head up until you made eye contact with your ruined reflection.

“i asked you a question, pretty girl,” he grunted as he felt you tighten around him. he gripped your hair a little harder. “answer it.”

your glossy eyes rolled back, fluttering up to his own every few seconds in the as you tried your best to think of the proper answer. what did he ask again? you couldn't rememeber. he could see a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

“i said,” he leaned over your body, pressing his lips right up against your ear, his hot breath caressing your ear, “who the fuck is making you feel this good?”

you nearly cum right there. the words exploded from your mouth. “you! y-you are! yeonjun, ‘m so close! p-please!”

he bit his lip at your current state: a panting, fucked out little mess all because of him. not beomgyu, but him. you were his.

and so he wrapped his hand around the front of your body, two fingers locating your slippery clit, the squelching coming from your hole growing louder as he slammed into you time and time again, his cock pressing up against that one spot inside you that had your entire body shaking underneath him. 

supernovas scattered across your vision as white-hot pleasure hit you like a truck, back arching as you clenched around him sporadically. he choked, moans growing higher pitched as he chased his own high. right before he could release, he pulled out, spilling spurts of cum onto your ass.

your head sagged against the sofa cushion, the sweat from your forehead staining the leather. you heard yeonjun walk away, only to feel tissues being wiped across your backside. you were half-conscious when he pulled your panties and skirt back up. he helped you up, finding a very flushed yeonjun behind you, a lock of his once perfectly styled hair now plastered against his forehead.

“let’s get cleaned up,” he said softly, helping you sit down on the couch, “you’re lucky these rooms are soundproof.”

a knock at the door had both of you whipping around to face it. a male’s voice echoed through the wood. “yeonjun! are you coming with us to celebrate?”

“yeah, give me a few minutes to change!” he called back, before sending you a concerned look. “will you be okay?”

“mhm, go ahead,” you encouraged. he sent you a grateful smile as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead and styling his hair back into place. he slipped out of the door, leaving you alone in the white room.

a few minutes later, you walked out of the room, only to find a few staff members left to clean up the space. as soon as she spotted you, sihyun ran over to you, “y/n, what the hell just happened?”

“we...we just had sex.”

"“sihyun, hey, i’m at the airport right now. don’t worry about me. yes, i’m flying home. something happened. yeah, let yeonjun know for me. thanks. i’ll see you monday. love you too, hyun. bye.” 

you hit the red button on your screen to end the call, sighing as you sat in the terminal. you bought a ticket for the first red-eye flight available to incheon. you felt the need to leave, run away, from all of this. you needed to get back home so you could sort through all of these feelings and thoughts. 

sure, that was definitely the best sex you'd ever experienced, but that was also exactly what was eating at your conscience at this moment. the line between boss and friend — and, dare you say it, lover — seemed blurred.

and that fact scared the absolute shit out of you.

you weren't sure if you could continue working for him after what had transpired, you felt as if your professional character had been trashed beyond repair. you didn't see a way to come back after having sex with your boss.

as you waited for your flight to be called, you slipped your laptop out of your carry-on, flipping open the screen and creating a new document, your fingers flying across the keys.

monday came much faster than you wanted it to.

the envelope in your hands felt like a thousand-pound weight. in a sense, it was. all of your feelings were poured into each and every word. 

you followed your normal routine: keyed into the building, said hello to the receptionist, took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and found yeonjun's office. you knocked.

“come in,” you heard him say.

you took once last deep breath before pushing the door open. you greeted him as per usual, but you didn't dare sit as you handed the envelope. 

“what’s this?” he questioned, glancing between you and the envelope. 

“my resignation letter, mr. choi.”

he stared up at you, unable to articulate any of his racing thoughts. you smiled sadly. he hated seeing that smile.

“thank you for this amazing opportunity, but i just don’t find it appropriate to work for you anymore.” you turned and walked out of his office, passing sihyun with one last hug. 

“i just quit, i hope you understand.” you grinned as tears pricked your eyes. it felt like your life was crumbling right before your eyes.

“oh, honey,” she cooed, bringing you in for another one of her suffocating hugs.

you held back the tears until you sat in your car. you couldn't blame anyone but yourself for all of this.

“sihyun, please come up to my office.”

“yes, sir.” 

sihyun opened the door to his office, clicking it shut after she stepped inside.

“please sit.”

her eyes widened at his next words.

“i don’t want to lose her.”

she could feel her heart crack at those words. who knew choi yeonjun was just as hopeless a romantic as herself? “y/n’s a tough girl, but she can’t handle everything herself. she might be a perfect problem solver in the workplace, but she’s notorious for running away from personal problems. her address is in our employee files, so you better go get her before she runs away for good.”

he nodded. “thank you, sihyun. you are dismissed.”

“good luck, mr. choi.”

you heard a knock at your door at noon. though your tears had dried, you knew you had to look like utter trash.

“i didn’t order anything…” you muttered, lookimg through the peephole to find someone who you never expected. 

yeonjun.

you unlocked the door, whipping it open. “why are you here?”

“can we talk?”

you blinked. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“there’s everything to talk about.” he held up your letter.

your throat felt as dry as a desert. “fine.”

you opened the door enough to let him in, allowing him to follow you over to your couch. you tried to sit away from him, but he found the seat right next to yours. he reached for your hand, but you snatched it away. you couldn't even look him in the eye, but you could sense how much that hurt him.

“i read every single word of your letter, and i’m fucking in love with you, too.” 

you froze, the emotions coming too fast for you to process. tears stung your eyes. a call of your name caused you to look up at him.

“oh, baby,” he cooed, and with that, the tears spilled over. he gathered you in his arms, rocking you back and forth as you hiccuped and sobbed into his chest. you gripped at his shoulders as if he would disappear. his heart ached. 

he made you follow his breathing, just like he did during that first flight with him, until you calmed down. you looked up at him with watery eyes, a weak grin on your face before you leaned up to kiss him.

every single pent up emotion flowed in between you, his body pressing up against yours until there was no empty space left between you. your hands ran through his onyx hair while his hands wrapped around your waist. you felt needed, whole, complete. 

you felt loved. completely, and utterly loved. 

you broke away with a panted giggle, although your cheeks remained wet. “sihyun’s gonna love this one.”

“why is that?” he raised an amused eyebrow.

“that’s a long story. another day.” and your lips found his again. you don’t think you could ever get enough. 

but neither could he.

taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx​ @nyfwyeonjun​ @txtatz​ @imtotallydef​ @jiminaaaahhhh​ @hwaddict​ @vantxx95​

can't tag: @zenx2003

©‌ ‌to‌ ‌agustdiv1ne.‌ ‌do‌ ‌not‌ ‌copy,‌ ‌repost,‌ ‌steal,‌ ‌and/or‌ ‌translate.‌ ‌

[annalacerda17]

I'm rereading MDZS, and it made me reflect on wangxian's interactions as teenagers. I know a lot of ppl have talked about this before, but i still want to talk about it.

There's a lot of takes in fandom about how the reason they didn't get together early was WWX's obliviousness and LWJ's poor communication skills, But, that's not what's going on at all. Lan Wangji isn't bad with words and Wei Wuxian isn't oblivious.

I think this idea comes from the notion that LWJ wanted WWX to know how he felt, but didn't have the ability to get the message across and WWX didn't have the observation skills to notice.

Except, reading the book again I was reminded of just how much a young LWJ didn't want WWX to know about his feelings. It's one of his regrets. LWJ deliberately pushed WWX away, repeatedly refused his friendship and even on one occasion said that WWX was truly a horrible person. LWJ knows WWX isn't going to hear this and think LWJ secretly loves him, and he's fine with that.

A young LWJ thinks WWX is everything he shouldn't like, and, especially in the CR arc, he wants those feelings to go away. Later on, when he realizes the feelings won't go away, he still doesn't want WWX to know. Partly because he still thinks WWX's personality is the opposite of what he should like, but also because he thinks WWX is straight, as WWX himself says he doesn't like men.

As for WWX, he's already more observant than most people for noticing LWJ doesn't actually hate him. He thinks LWJ doesn't like him, which is reasonable because that's what LWJ's behavior conveys - deliberately so, but he also doesn't think LWJ actively hated him. When he encounters LWJ again in MXY's body he immediately notices he's different. He doesn't know LWJ loves him at first, because he's missing the memory of LWJ's confession, so he has no reference through which to interpret the change in LWJ's behavior, but he takes note of the clues and, while he's not 100% sure of LWJ's feelings until LXC tells him, he does consider his own feelings for LWJ may be returned - their interactions until then prove that. The only reason he doesn't know for certain is the misunderstanding that originated from WWX missing the memory of LWJ's confession and LWJ not knowing WWX doesn't remember the confession. That's not lack of observation skills in either of them, and it isn't a misunderstanding they could have resolved in any simple way, after all, WWX can't possibly know what he doesn't remember, and LWJ is not inside WWX's head to know what WWX does and does not remember.

Anyway, my point is that people have a number of reasons to act a certain way, and LWJ being in love doesn't automatically mean he wants it known to anyone but himself, and that's not the same as being a bad communicator. Also, no one can read what's inside of another person's head, so WWX not knowing the feelings LWJ actively tried to conceal isn't a failing on his part.

They're both intelligent, well educated men who, once both are aware of their feelings and are emotionally ready for a relationship, actually get together pretty quickly, considering all else going on at the time.

That's also something to consider - there was a lot going on during most of the time they knew each other, and romance simply wasn't a priority for either of them for most of the time they knew each other.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I already sold my soul, but *subtly clears throat and passes a 100 dollar bill across the table* how about Indiana and a wee baby? 👀

*Takes 100 dollar bill*
 *Shreds it* 
*Grinds shredded pieces*
 *Snorts the remainder*

I'm in an Indy-writing mood so this got way too long

Warnings: Sticks to the original trilogy, ignores Crystal Skull (Soz); period-typical/sexist reactions to having a baby out of wedlock; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of breastfeeding; angst that ends in fluff

- Well we've all seen how cute he is with a monkey

-  And we all know he Fucks™

- We also know that Indiana can be flighty, and reckless, so it's no wonder that you're more than a little hesitant to tell him that you're pregnant.

- After you find out, you resolve yourself to have the baby and keep it, with or without Indiana's support.

- When you tell Indiana, he doesn't actually...Say anything. He just looks at you, eyes darting to your stomach, as if he can see through it.

- What finally shakes him from it is Marcus coming to summon him to a meeting with two investors for the museum.

- Indiana manages a, "Sure, yeah," And stands from the diner table, absently dropping a couple of bills to cover your meal.

- If he looks back at you, you don't know. Your eyes are filling with tears as you slide down in your seat.

-  You don't expect him to contact you again, which is why you're stunned when he shows up at your apartment that night.

- He steps in, glances around, then at you, and mutters, "You're gonna need to get rid of some of this stuff."

- "What?"

-  "When we move you in, I mean, you know how many books I've got and look at this." He waves his hand toward your living room, where you've got shelves of books crammed tightly together, and more stacked on tables and your side table. “And you’ve got more back there,” He waves his finger toward your bedroom.

-  As you realize what he means, you fold your arms across your chest, pouting up at him.

-  "Why can't we get rid of some of your books?" You ask.

-  "That's not happening, sweetheart."

-  "Then why don't we get a bigger place?"

-  Indiana considers, mutters, "Guess we could look into it."

-  "Better look fast. There's a pretty tight deadline."

-  Indiana steps closer to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and resting his hand on your belly for a moment before he draws you into his chest.

-  "How was the meeting with Marcus?" You mumble against his shoulder.

-  "About that," He draws away, rifling through his pocket, "I have a...A job I need to take, so." He draws an engagement ring out of his pocket without ceremony, just holding it up to you.

-  "...My god, Jones," You say flatly, "You're such a romantic."

-  "Well are you gonna put it on or not?"

-  The wedding is quick, intimate—just your family, and Brody. Indiana's father is a notable absence.

-  You don't mention it; you don't know if it stings Indiana or not.

-  Indiana leaves for his job, and it's up to you to move your things into the new house.

-  Indiana's given you carte blanche to get rid of his things, but has specifically flagged several items that must make it into the new house.

-  By the time he returns, the house you've chosen feels like a home, with a blend of his things and yours, and a nursery well under way.

-  Indiana turns up with a cut on his lip, a tired furrow to his brow.

-  His fatigue seems to melt as he spots you on the front porch, and the growing swell of your belly.

-  Leading up to the birth, Indiana gets you whatever you need for your cravings (though he teases you for them), massages your feet or shoulders, rubs cream into your itching belly when you ask him to.

-  Once the baby is there (let's say it's a girl), Indiana isn't quite sure how to help, and honestly, sometimes gets annoyed when you ask him to.

-  Look, he's fine with kids, but a baby is a baby. That's uncharted territory for Indiana.

-  The closest he's ever been around was that monkey, years ago.

- And it wasn’t even his monkey.

-  In the first few months, he spends a few nights in his office to escape what he deems 'your nagging and the kid’s wailing'.

-  When he is home, he remarks disparagingly about your mood, and while you often brush it off, one night you mumble, "Maybe if I had some help, I wouldn't be so upset."

-  "What can I do? She cries when I hold her."

-  "Maybe it's because you're never here!" And you know it's too far, but you're so tired and frustrated that you spit, "Maybe you won't attend her wedding, either."

-  Indiana looks like he's been slapped. He says nothing.

-  It's like when you first told him you were pregnant—silence before inevitable retreat.

-  You don't sleep that night. When Jones comes back into the house early the next morning, you don't expect an apology.

-  You don't get one right away, either.

-  But as you expect the baby to rise and wail, you hear nothing.

-  When you go into the check on her, you find Indiana sitting with the baby in his arms

-  The pink blanket is off-set against his bare chest; his damp hair sags over his forehead

-  He glances up at you almost nervously, as if you’re going to stride over and snatch the baby out of his arms.

- Instead you ask, “You want coffee?”

- “...Yeah.”

- “You hungry?”

- “Yeah.”

- “Alright. Bring her down when she starts to fuss, I have to feed her, too.”

- Breakfast is pretty quiet, save for the baby’s gurgles and giggles. Indiana makes it a point to wipe her chin she was drools.

- You let him. You don’t tell him to do thinks this way or that. It’s not like what he’s doing is harmful to the baby.

- “...She doesn’t seem to mind me so much,” He finally says.

- You shake your head in answer.

- “Do you?” He presses.

- “Mind you?”

- “Uh-huh.”

- “...I can’t say you’re my favorite person in the world right now, Jones.” 

- Indiana leans back in his seat a little bit, eyeing the baby as she studiously plays with a crumb.

- “Listen,” He says, and you brace for the lecture, but—“I can have Marcus look after the kid tonight. We should go out, clear our heads.”

- “And leave the baby?” You frown.

- “She won’t be by herself,” He drags out.

- You feel a little bad, even as you heap Marcus with instructions (which you’ve also written out for his reference).

- Dinner is nice. You and Indiana are still a little hesitant around one another, but it’s been months of thorny behavior between the two of you. That won’t disappear overnight.

- When he takes hold of your hand, when you eye the wedding ring on his finger, it makes you oddly emotional.

- “I know I haven’t been so...Present,” He tells you. “My father wasn’t, either.”

- Your stomach twists with remorse, and you sit up a touch straighter. “Indy, I should never have said—”

- “No,” He shakes his head, “You were right. That’s how it was with my father. It’s one or two things, and then a day, and then two days, a week...If I keep on like this I’ll miss...I’ll miss all of it.”

- He starts slowly—getting up sometimes to quiet the baby when she’s crying (though there are some late nights when he comes in holding a still squirming, still whining child and nods toward your chest with a mutter of, “I don’t think this one is my department.”)

- He learns to change her diapers, though he clearly dislikes it (”No one likes it, Indy, but we can’t leave her like that—” “I’m not!”)

- He takes to grading papers with her in his lap, tutting softly when she reaches for his pen and disparaging some students’ answers aloud to the baby (”Can you believe he wrote 1802?” *shriek!* “I know. A full century off. Unbelievable.”)

- The two of you take turns feeding her when he’s home, and handling her nighttime routine.

- And once the baby’s down, the two of you have your dinner together, and start speaking to one another like adults again.

- Emotional tensions cool and give way to physical affection. He doesn’t hesitate to reach for you; you go willingly and easily.

- On a particularly quiet night, when the two of you are cuddled up on the couch, Indiana presses a kiss to your temple.

- “I acted like a real ass.”

- “Hm?” 

- “At the start.”

- “Oh.” Then, “I know.”

- He chuckles softly, shaking his head and dipping his head to brush a kiss to your lips.

- “Can you ever forgive me, Mrs. Jones?” He murmurs.

- You grin, raising your hand to cup his cheek.

- “I already have, Dr. Jones.”