#Setting up company in China

[terrumdurak]

under full moon the young official meets the immortal

my OCs, xianxia au

art process

I've also did a synopsis for the hypothetical storyline:

"A young official, follower of Confucianism, one day encounters a Taoist who has achieved immortality. They have long talks, play weiqi, drink tea - the Taoist doesn't drink wine.

Several months pass this way, and one day the young official quits his service to cultivate immortality."

Their names are Yang Qiangren for the official and Mingtian ("tomorrow" bc he has to have the most weird name possible) for the immortal

[pochapal]

just found out the upcoming flight simulator has a walkaround mode where you can literally wander around uncanny ai 3d upscaled bing maps earth with zero restrictions. they finally went and put heaven in a video game.

[interareapsp-blog]

中国服务型公司

一、中国设立外资服务型公司简介

中国人均 GDP 超过 6,000 美元，已达世界中等收入水平。服务业成为新的增长点，大陆公司注册有助于推动经济增长，提高生活质量。

服务贸易协议(GATS) 旨在协商服务业跨境贸易，内容包括最惠国待遇、税收优惠等，规范贸易形式有跨境供应、境外消费、商业存在及自然人存在等四类，消除贸易壁垒，防止歧视性规范。

为顺应全球经贸新趋势，我们积极推进自由贸易区，扩大服务业开放，包括金融、航运、商贸、专业、文化及社会服务领域。根据上海、深圳、厦门自贸区的不同开放规定，业务范畴有所差异。

二、中国服务型公司的注册规定

一般可以开立3%的服务发票，如营业额超过80万RMB，将升级为一般纳税人，转为开立6%增值税发票(可扣抵)。

现对外商在中国成立服务型公司的投资注册资本额规定无特别限制，建议投资注册资本额仍以RMB 30万以上为佳。

中国公司注册的资本金现采认缴制度，资本金在经营期限内到位即可，资金汇入后建议出具验资报告，以供之后相关单位备查。

★查看完整文章: 中国服务型公司

汇佳国际 Inter Area ==================== 台北 +886-2-25575607 台中 +886-4-23202793 Email : interarea@interareapsp.com Skype : interareapsp   |   Line : inter-area   |   WeChat : inter_area Website : https://interareapsp.com/cn/

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you’re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…

Or 3…

[nezuscribe]

nepo baby gojo who grew up with not only a silver spoon but an entire china cabinet of them.

he’s rich, there’s no questioning it. rich rich. his dad was the ceo of a company, his mother a successful neurosurgeon. it was all in the cards for him to turn out successful, and it was no surprise when he did.

gojo graduated top of his class from japan’s best university. he’s in line to take over his fathers role at the company in a few years and his name is across forbes.

the only problem? the tabloids seem to be loving him for a different reason.

gojo is a shameless flirt. he has a plethora of exes, each having their own story about dating him. he’s an unapologetic playboy and sees no harm in fooling around, doesn’t care if it makes it into a stupid article because who reads those anyways?

everyone, evidently, and his father refuses to have his eccentric son ruining the family name.

the solution? make him date someone that they know he can’t break up with. set him up with a girl who’s so perfect on paper that she might not even be real.

he knows that his actions have had eventual consequences, but he never thought that he’d be forced to pick out a potential girlfriend from a line of pictures his assistants had splayed out for him. each of them coming from virtually no background with no importance to society. no families or families that are cut off, girls that nobody has heard of and would never remember if they saw her next to him. it much easier to create the perfect girl from scratch than finding her in the wild. especially ones as desperate as this? a fat check often shuts them up.

his uninterested gaze roams around the headshots, wondering how they must’ve convinced them in the first place. gojo knows what’s on the line, and as petulant and spoiled he is, he’s fortunately not stupid.

he rolls his eyes after another few minutes had passed, pointing to some random girl because he truly couldn’t care less.

the assistants around him quickly got to work, collecting the rest of the pictures as they began getting ready for what was to come.

little did you know that the strange offer you had from a strange woman a few weeks ago would be calling you back, telling you that you got the job.

[innovalegalconsulting]

Various Benefits of Setting Up a Purchase Office in China

China's position as a global economic powerhouse and manufacturing hub makes it an attractive destination for businesses looking to expand their operations. One strategic approach to tapping into the vast potential of the Chinese market is by setting up a purchase office. When investors set up purchase office in China, it unlocks numerous benefits for businesses.

One of the primary advantages of setting up a purchase office in China is the proximity to a vast network of manufacturers. This allows businesses to establish direct relationships with suppliers. This approach also helps businesses to take advantage of competitive production costs, lower labor expenses, and economies of scale.

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Setting up a purchase office allows businesses to implement stringent quality control measures. This hands-on approach ensures that products meet the desired standards and specifications. It minimizes the risk of defects and enhances overall product quality. With a purchase office in China, businesses can engage in face-to-face negotiations, build stronger relationships with suppliers, and negotiate favorable terms.

However, foreign investors in China can approach Innova Legal Consulting to draft a smoother and legally solid business pathway. They are expert and reputed legal consultants to support foreign investors in the intricated Chinese business landscape.

[princealberich]

HOW DO I COMPLAIN TO HOYOVERSE?

It's easy, and there are MULTIPLE things you can do! I recommend doing each item on this list.

1. SIGN & SHARE THE PETITION

The petition will be delivered to the appropriate cultural reps, in order to complain to the CCP about the negative impression this is leaving on Chinese companies. Genshin Impact is highly favoured by the government for the positive press it gives the country, and putting pressure on the 'big daddy' is FAR more likely to make Hoyoverse buckle.

As of right now, the petition has nearly 38k signatures.

2. EMAIL HOYOVERSE

Email them directly at genshin_cs@hoyoverse.com to state how this has affected your desire to continue playing their games.

3. USE THE IN-GAME SURVEY OR FEEDBACK

Genshin Impact has frequent update surveys, and there is a permanent option to give feedback at any time. You can find it in the Paimon Menu.

4. REVIEW BOMB

Rate Hoyoverse's games, particularly Genshin, with one star on the app store. This has already proven in the past to have an effect, when this caused the team to review the anniversary rewards.

Here is a guide on how to do this!

5. POST IN OFFICIAL HOYOVERSE ACCOUNTS' COMMENTS

Do not be silent! Speak up about your displeasure. It's important that these comments outweigh the rest! Show that we are the MAJORITY.

6. SPEAK UP

Use the tags!

#BoycottHYV #WhyAreTheyWhiteHoyo #GenshinImpact #FixNatlan

Be relentless.

FURTHER DETAILS UNDER THE CUT!

WHAT SHOULD I NOT DO?

The following actions should NOT be taken:

DO NOT spend money on Hoyoverse games.

DO NOT sent threats, to voice actors OR customer service staff.

DO NOT engage with trolls or racists. Block and report.

WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT?

It's easy to dismiss this in the face of 'more important' issues in the world at the moment, but Genshin Impact (And by extension, Hoyoverse) is a very influential game and company. It is extremely popular, and directly influences MANY other games and players through this popularity.

This isn't an issue of 'just stop playing'- This is not anger for a game's decisions, it's anger for a precedent. It's a demand that not only should Hoyoverse care about representation, but other, smaller, companies too. If Hoyoverse can get away with it, so can others- But if Hoyoverse is held accountable for their exploitation of culture, then it sets the precedent that other companies have no chance of doing the same.

Like it or not, Hoyoverse has a lot of influence, and the CCP itself values the company for giving China a positive image in other countries. This is bigger than just being mad at character design.

EDIT: It was also pointed out to me that if POC were to simply stop engaging with hostile content, they would have nothing left. 'Just stop playing' isn't fair, plain and simple. POC deserve to play the things that they enjoy WITHOUT being ostracized.

DOES HOYOVERSE LISTEN?

They listen if there's no money lining their pockets, they listen if their reputation is damaged, and they listen if the CCP gets involved. We have direct evidence of this.

Review bombing alone caused Hoyoverse to reconsider the first anniversary rewards.

The CCP forced Hoyoverse to reskin various characters to comply with their laws, which HYV did. (This isn't necessarily a good thing, however, it is still evidence that CCP has influence over them.)

This is by far the largest outcry the company has seen so far, and MANY of HYV's voice actors have spoken out in support for the movement as well. This is not just playerbase complaints, but staff, too.

I recommend following AvenOfStrats on X/Twitter for further updates on the petition's progress, and on other ways to contribute. They also share plenty of resources on why this is important, and guides on how to complain.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

PLAYING FAVOURITES. [PART TWO]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 2628 summary. continuing on from FAVOURITISM (this can be read as a standalone, but would recommend reading part 1 first) you and your boss's work relationship deviates from professional, each of your repressed feelings beginning to get in the way. a wordless admission entails, the act confirming the liking each of you have. boss x secretary. warnings. slightly suggestive, idiots in love (kinda) disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of how I picture the reader's vibe and style. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Late mornings, you’d often find yourself in the staff room, watching over the bubbling kettle as you wait for it to finish boiling. And now, like many other points during the day, you’re leaning against the counter — hip resting against the worktop, waiting for the flick of the kettle’s switch.

You reach for the appliance and slowly pour the water into your boss's favourite fine china set, making the tea to his very specific liking. Following the steps that he had ingrained into you over the several months you’ve worked for him. You slot two custard creams onto the saucer, setting the biscuits beside the cup before heading towards his office. 

You’re mindful as you walk across the office floor, eyes fixed in a heavy focus on the fragile crockery in your hands. Being ever so careful with something so dear to him. The tea sloshes slightly with each slow and calculated step, the click of your heels accompanying every delayed movement. You reach your boss’s door and give it a light couple taps, being aware how the motion may affect the stability of your hold.

“Yeah?” he calls out, voice preoccupied, like he was busy.

Entering his room quietly so as not to disturb him, you spot him at his desk, phone wedged between cheek and shoulder, hand on the mouse with his attention on the computer screen. His focus differs when he notices you in his door frame, a soft, courteous smile being sent your way.

Though the grin is short lived. A frustrated voice on the receiving end of his phone growing louder, more frustrated. The tone of the caller dissecting that small slither of calm you just gave him. Tangerine sighs, soothing over his moustache as he slumps back in his chair, humming along with the conversation as if to keep the call short with your company present.

“Mhm-hm, catch you in a bit,” he grumbles and places his phone down, irritation evident with the force. “Sorry, darl,” he apologies, turning his attention to you still in his door frame. “You can come in,” he gently reminds you with a chuckle, gesturing you inside.

“Call sounded important— didn’t want to get in the way,” you smile and shake your head. “Anyway, thought you could do with a tea break,” you look at the clock on his wall, speaking like he was an infant with regular feedings.

“You know me too well,” he nods you along, clearing a space between his papers. 

He watches over you, noticing your obvious caution with something so fragile — your precious hold being careful with something he loves.

“Perhaps,” you smile to yourself, gaze focused on your footing, unaware of his looks. You reach his desk and set it in front of him, stepping aside to leave him be. 

“I uhh— I don't suppose you have a few minutes,” he starts, twisting in his chair to keep you in his sight. “Computer’s playing up. Been a right nightmare,” he says, bringing the cup to his mouth to take a sip. “Top notch tea, that.”

You twist on your heels and nod with a smile, heading back to his desk. Standing at his side, your thigh presses into his arm, the contact of your touch noticeable to you both, obvious to you both, though neither one of you wants to shy away from it. You reach past him and for the mouse where his hand sits beside, brushing past him ever so slightly. 

Though he doesn’t flinch or retract his hand, instead he keeps it there, letting it be an obstacle that you have no choice but to graze. Your gaze lowers to his hand, eyes diverting from his screen to look at the closeness of your hands, how they’re almost touching. His thumb fidgets subtly, as if he’s hesitant — eager to reach for your pinky finger.

His eyes, too, fall on the display of your hands in front, the difference in size filling his mind with things no boss should ever think about one of his employees. And as if he’s suddenly remembered his position of power, he regrettably slides his hand away, reaching for the tea so you should feel no such rejection for the act. 

You’d admit that it stung, but that would mean admitting you had feelings for your boss, and you were far too smart to allow yourself for that to happen. So to dust yourself off and refocus, you have a look around on his computer, trying to locate the same issue he’s been having all week. Though today, it seems the issue is different to the prior ones.

You start to bend, initiating a new seated position on your knees, but he stops you, placing down his tea as he goes to stand.

“Have my seat,” he instructs, standing behind his chair as he slides it to you — offering it up.

“Am I allowed?” 

“Course you are,” he dismisses your weary, polite question with a laugh. “Doing me a favour here, can’t have you sitting on the floor.”

“Imagine how bad that’ll look to the higher ups, huh?” you joke. “Letting your secretaries get on their knees while you just sit there.”

Tangerine picks up on the accidental innuendo almost instantly, a diversion of his eyes and a tinge of warmth in his cheeks making that all the more evident. It takes you a second to realise what you’ve said and your eyes widen at the connection, mouth opening slightly like you’re embarrassed. 

“For helping with work,” you add hurriedly, shaking your head as you sit in the chair. “The computer, I mean.”

With your back now to him, you take a moment to collect yourself, head dropping slightly from the sheer humiliation you were feeling. You exhale quickly and turn back to look at him, sending him an apologetic look. 

“I really didn’t mean that— I didn’t even realise what I was saying,” you continue with your apologies, fearing you’ve made the situation all the more uncomfortable.

Though it’s anything but. Instead he quite liked seeing you open up to him, joke and chat with him — the worry-wall of scrutiny slowly dissipating around you. And when he sees you sitting in front, eyes peering over your shoulder and up at him, he knew he was far deeper in the shit than he realised. 

He clears his throat, trying to rid himself from the impure, lewd thoughts running rampant in his mind. He shakes his head singularly at you, hand hesitantly reaching for your shoulder, but instead, he backs out at the last second, finding himself pointing at the computer.

“Let’s get that sorted out, yeah?” he prompts, adjusting your focus to an actual issue. The direction like a distraction, wanting to shake the embarrassment from you without making a deal about it. 

You nod and twist to look at the screen again, pushing your focus to the task assigned to you. But as you get to work, flicking through his computer, you notice the fix is not as simple as the others from this week — the complications advancing from the usual randomly —purposefully—misplaced and deleted files to something far more complex.

Your eyes narrow at the screen, and your back straightens in a slight lean forward, trying to understand it all. 

“I have no idea what you’ve done,” you mutter in pure concentration, chin resting on knuckles with your other hand on the mouse. “This is such a mess,” you briefly look at him still behind you. “Like, such a mess. It’s gonna take a while.”

“I got time,” he tightens his features, stiffening his expression. Trying not to seem so joyous about an ordeal he should be irritated by. “Not a problem for you, is it?” 

“Not at all.”

He picks up the biscuits from the small plate and casually offers you one, hand held out towards you. You skim his skin as you take it, thumb brushing his for a short, quick moment.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks, eager to keep you comfortable in his space.

“No, I’m good thanks,” you pause and take a bite of the treat changing your mind upon further thought. “Actually, yes please,” you start, speaking through a mouthful. “My glasses? Under my desk I have two bags. In the smaller one— I think it's on the right. Anyway, in there I have a pouch and the case is tucked in one of the pockets. And then my glasses are inside.”

He nods, a subtle smile finding itself spreading on his face. 

“Shall I get you the world’s nuke codes while I’m at it?” he jokes, heading for the door.

You follow his movements, watching him over the top of the computer. “Nah, I don’t need them right now, but I could do with a drink though,” you laugh, making him halt for a brief moment. “My bottle is in the other bag— a big metal thing with charms. You’ll see it right away.”

He’s quick to return and you’re sure he’s forgotten the directions, the quick pace making you doubt him. But instead, he pulls out your bags from behind his back, features forced in a plain, casual expression.

“Thought it’d be easier to bring all your things,” he offers, making his way to your side, tucking your belongings next to you. “Get you set up in here for the day while you fix that mess,” he gestures to the computer and resumes his original position behind you. 

With him unable to see your face, you smile. You smile wide. The thought of him seeming to enjoy and want your company makes those butterflies flutter a little wilder inside. That pit of want slowly growing deeper. The edges of it starting to crumble inwards.

Again, with the reminder of status and power, you dismiss the thoughts and twist in the chair,  leaning over to search through your bag on the floor so you could resume work.

Completely unbeknownst to you, Tangerine’s height advantage gave him exactly that — an advantage. His depraved eyes trail down your back from behind, lowering to the slither of skin between flowy blouse and trousers, the tights he bought for you all those weeks ago visible over the top of the waistband. The hosiery a secret to you and you only, a way of maintaining your flamboyance without getting in trouble for it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, gaze unable to leave the sight without a forceful action. His hands drop from the crossed position over his chest to his front, hands acting as a shield between his legs. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly got him so bothered about the sight, and he found himself struggling to find the reasoning why. Perhaps it was something about the contact, how something he touched so tightly is now, too, tightly touching you. Maybe it was the position or the unintentional, suggestive eyes you’d give him throughout all hours of the day. Either way, whatever it was, he was struggling. 

And through his drifting mind, he’s unaware of you now facing him, hand waving sweetly to capture his attention. 

“Sorry,” he clears his throat in his fist, lending you his focus.

“You good?” you ask, utterly oblivious to the effect you play on him. “I can do this some other time if you’d like?”

“No,” he shakes his head, the motion stern like it was reaffirming his decline. “I was just thinking about lunch,” he lies, checking the time on his watch. “Getting hungry,” a partial lie — only his hunger cannot be satiated with food. “I can get something for you too?”

“I brought something with me from home, but thank you,” you notice a hint of defeated rejection in his eyes, the dismissal of his offer seeming to please you more than it should. “But maybe I can sit in here while I eat?”

“That’ll be nice,” he nods, trying his best to remain neutral. “How’s it looking?” he questions and points to the screen, changing the subject built on a lie.

“Uhm, it’s coming along I think,” you too, lie, pretending the errors were still an issue, when in fact they were not. The problem fixed and sorted a couple minutes ago. “Might be another hour at least, maybe two. Just doing some tests,” you continue with your ruse, lying to keep yourself in his company. 

“That’s alright,” he hums, watching you swirl back around in his chair, getting back to work.

It was as if you were truly unaware of your power: big brains, a heart so pure and eyes that could trick him to do anything. He would find someone with those qualities intimidating, but instead he found himself finding it endearing, exciting even.

And like he’s suddenly had enough of talking himself from his wants, he decides to indulge in them, just this once. He rests his hands either side of you from above, palms flat to the desk to tower over you from behind. Inners of his biceps skimming at your shoulders.

The position close, like a confinement you much rather enjoyed. You swallow thick, struggling to even your breathing.

“Maybe I do play favourites,” he admits, his voice a whisper behind your ear. “Little bit of partiality in the workplace.”

He moves a hand from its placement on the table and places it on the back of the chair, pushing it to make you swivel to face him. 

It’s close, far closer than you’ve ever been to him before — the tips of your noses almost touching.

“I know you’ve thought about this too,” he prompts, tone gentle as he practically speaks against your lips.

All you can do is nod slowly, seeming to be frozen in place with no ability to speak. Quite like you were in a haze, stumped it had finally got to this point.

“How long you been thinking about it?” he teases, itching forward to graze your lips, only to pull away — wanting to hear your answer first.

You inhale raggedly. “Since I started,” you admit, getting closer to make up for the distance he made.

“So have I.”

The hand that was on the back of your chair reaches towards you, palm grazing the base of your throat until it's sitting on the side of it, lightly holding your neck. With him regaining control, he guides you inwards, pressing his lips to yours.

At first it’s precautionary, gentle even, the kiss soft and light as if to check measures.  But when you each pull away, eyes flickering over the other quickly, it’s fast to be rekindled. The intensity growing as if all of the stolen glances and forbidden thoughts and accidental touches have finally caught up to you both. Upping the antics.

A knock at the door breaks the moment far shorter than either one of you would like, the hasty pace of the tapping indicating something urgent. 

You pull away and he sighs, the exhale frustrated. Tangerine stands straight and adjusts himself, making his way to the door.

“What?” he says, voice stern, one of your colleagues stood in front of his door — an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Been a problem with dispatch, sir.”

“Right,” he nods and shuts the door in the face of his employee.

Tangerine heads towards you to collect his things, picking up his briefcase and coat from its placement. Your eyes never seem to break from their lusty fix on him, an indecent, fervent fixation as they follow him around the room.

“I won’t be long,” he assures, walking towards you. He leans over slightly, thumb and forefinger cupping your chin, angling your face to meet him. “Don’t you go anywhere, okay?” he instructs, punctuating his soft command with a rough response. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[ PART THREE ]

[m00nchildthings]

ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

End-stage capitalism

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in BLOOMINGTON TODAY (Apr 4), and in PITTSBURGH on May 15. More tour dates here.

Karl Marx predicted that capitalism would eventually fail, torn apart by its own contradictions. He called the bourgeoisie, who epitomized these contradictions, capitalism's "grave diggers":

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

In the Communist Manifesto, Marx and Engels marvel at capitalism's adaptability, its ability to reinvent itself in the face of seemingly terminal crises and emerge in a new form. For nearly two centuries, Marxists have treated capitalism as an intermediate stage between feudalism and socialism – a lengthy, but still impermanent, regime whose purpose was to produce the systems of plenty that socialism would deliver to democratic control.

But as capitalism lurched from crisis to crisis, some Marxists speculated that capitalism would give way to something even worse. In 2023, Yanis Varoufakis proposed that capitalism might end up being a transitional phase between feudalism and another kind of feudalism – technofeudalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

But Trump's disastrous policies – tariffs, suspension of the rule of law, pointless military expansionism – doesn't serve Varoufakis's technofeudalism or any other kind of feudalism. As Hamilton Nolan writes, Trump represents a rupture of the customarily unshakable class solidarity of the wealthy. Trump's policies are not good for business. Trump is going to make America much, much poorer – and since the vast majority of American wealth is held by a tiny minority of very rich people, any program that vaporizes an appreciable fraction of American wealth will make a lot of rich people a lot poorer.

Hamilton Nolan wrote about this a couple days ago, enumerating all the ways that Trump – who LARPed a TV businessman – is extremely bad for business:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/divergence-from-the-interests-of

Gutting state capacity

As Nolan writes, there are plenty on the right who don't care about the idea that public education produces the skilled workers needed to run and expand the economy, and who believe that paving half the national parks and putting a $500/day admission price on the remainder will suit them just fine. But even the most hardcore plutocrat needs a functional immigration system so they can source workers who can do the jobs Americans won't – or can't – do. You can't be a finance guy in a country with a collapsed, corrupt Treasury Department that periodically reaches into institutional bank accounts and drains them of millions in pursuit of "obscure witch-hunts":

“stupidly breaking the parts of the government that allow our financial markets to function smoothly with no apparent plan" is not “populism” any more than a bite from an alligator is a kiss

Ending the rule of law

Anyone who claims to love "free markets" loves the rule of law. The predictability of a laws-based society is a necessary precondition for capital formation, long-term investing, and the use of contracts to coordinate business within a transparent, known set of rules.

Trump's lavish corruption – his crypto companies (which someone called "a tipjar for the Oval Office"), his sale of commutations and pardons to flagrant criminals, and his purging of Democrats within the DoJ to create space for "buffoons" who run his witch hunts – all offer good reason for investors to stay the hell out of America, and for businesses to get the hell out of the country:

https://thehill.com/homenews/senate/5182515-senate-democrats-complaint-ed-martin/

The spectacle of the top executives of world's most powerful multinationals openly paying bribes to Trump, while seated at Trump's own members' club, makes an eloquent case for seeking your business opportunities in another country – practically any other country:

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/mar/05/trump-dinner-mar-a-lago

Then there's Trump's interference in the Fed, "endangering financial markets for short term political gain":

https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/trump-bid-to-control-fed-puts-us-economy-at-risk-by-kenneth-rogoff-2025-01

And finally, there's his defiance of federal court orders, and his attacks on law firms that employ lawyers who had the temerity to sue him. As Nolan writes, "This is not good for business." Sure, it's grimly satisfying to think about all those rich fools who howled because Biden had the temerity to suggest modest tax hikes and improvements to labor law now having to watch as "the world’s most sophisticated corporate legal regime [is replaced] with a system in which you must grovel at his toes in a ridiculous red hat in order to get anything done."

Military adventures

Trump is apparently going to go to war with Iran, Canada, Denmark, Mexico, and several other countries to be determined at a later date. Sure, America's military spending is higher than all the rest of the world's combined, but getting involved in several wars at once is – once again – not good for business. For one thing, he's going to kill Boeing, Lockheed, and all the other US-based arms dealers that rely on a friendly relationship with America's erstwhile allies for billions of dollars per year in business. Things are no better for the companies that do other kinds of business with the countries America is apparently on the brink of war with. This kind of "Hitlerian" program of economic growth was a failure in the previous century, and it will fail again:

Did Hitler’s wild invasions ultimate make Germany richer? No. They started a world war. And, no matter what anyone tells you, world war is not good for business.

Tariffs

Finally, there's Trump's deranged tariff plan. As David Dayen writes for The American Propsect, these aren't really tariffs at all – they're sanctions, punishments visited upon every country in the world (even uninhabited islands!) for a bunch of imaginary crimes:

https://prospect.org/economy/2025-04-03-theyre-not-tariffs-theyre-sanctions/

Trump's tariffs make no sense as an economic policy, but they are familiar to anyone who's spent time around organized crime (like, say, Trump):

https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2016/05/donald-trump-2016-mob-organized-crime-213910/

Dayen likens Trump's approach to "a mob boss moving into town and sending his thugs to every business on Main Street, roughing up the proprietors and asking for protection money so they don’t get pushed out of business." Trump's demands – such as they are – include forcing America's trading partners to do away with their privacy, food safety and antitrust laws:

https://tacd.org/wp-content/uploads/TACD-Statement-Tariffs-3-April.pdf

Even if it was worth it for other countries to dismantle their laws to enjoy continued access to US markets (it isn't), no one trusts that giving in to Trump means that he'll carry out his end of the bargain. As Brad DeLong reminds us, Trump personally negotiated the USMCA terms that Canada and Mexico have been living under since he last left office, and those are the two countries he's most pissed off at:

https://braddelong.substack.com/p/draft-mar-a-lago-discord

This isn't capitalism – it's gangsterism. It's a system that will annihilate trillions of dollars in value to put billions of dollars in the pockets of Trump and a few of his cronies – at the expense of all the other rich people.

Nolan concludes that Trump is "insane" – that his actions are irrational, disconnected from reality, impossible to understand. For Nolan, the question isn't "What is Trump trying to accomplish?" It's "how has this insane man managed to gain control of the government of the world’s richest and most powerful nation?"

He's got a hell of an answer, too:

That, my friends, is the unfortunate outcome of an economic system that has so profoundly failed to enforce economic equality, and a political system that so profoundly failed to protect its democracy from the influence of capital that it allowed itself to be totally captured by extreme lunatics backed by extreme wealth.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog: https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/04/anything-that-cant-go-on/#forever-eventually-stops

[pony32099]

 Guo Wengui: The end of fraud and the trial of justice

 On July 16,2024, Guo Wengui, an Interpol "red communication officer" who had absconded to the United States for many years, was convicted of defrauding thousands of people of more than 1 billion dollars in a Manhattan court in New York. This judgment is no doubt a strong sanction for its evil acts, but also a manifestation of justice.

 Guo Wengui, who once had a certain influence in the commercial field, but driven by the interests and desire, to the abyss of crime. He used to be the actual controller of Henan Yuda Investment Co., Ltd. and Beijing Pangu Investment Co., Ltd. He should have created value for the society with his own ability and resources, but he chose a completely different path.

 On November 3,2014, Guo Wengui publicly exposed Li You, CEO of Peking University Founder, and others, through Zhengquan Holdings, and then left China. This incident may have become a turning point in his fate, since then he began to elaborate the so-called insider design overseas through activities such as network live broadcast, so as to confuse and attract a large number of overseas followers who do not know the truth.

 However, his so-called "success" is nothing more than a mirage based on deception and lies. Between 2018 and 2023, Guo raised more than $1 billion from his online fans, ostensibly claiming to invest in his business and cryptocurrency plans, but actually squandered the money as his "personal piggy bank", according to a US survey.

 He used a variety of fraud. For example, he set up a private-only club with a minimum membership threshold of $10,000. Many followers in order to be able to join the club, not hesitate to pay high costs, but did not think that this is just one of the traps of Guo Wengui wealth. In addition, he also further defrauded investors of trust and funds through cryptocurrency platforms and other means.

 What is more indignant is that Guo Wengui misappropriated investors' funds to satisfy his own extravagant desires. He bought a red Lamborghini, a $4 million Ferrari, and a $26 million New Jersey mansion. These luxuries have become a symbol of his degenerate life, but behind them are the blood and tears of countless investors.

 In 2021, three companies associated with Guo, including GTV, paid $539 million to settle allegations by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) over illegal stock offerings. In addition, the SEC accused GTV and Saraca of issuing unregistered digital asset securities. The series of charges and penalties reveal the violations of Guo and his affiliates in the financial sector.

 Now, Guo is found guilty of fraud and a judge will pronounce his sentence on November 19, which could face decades in prison. The result was what he deserved, and it was a stern warning to all those who tried to make ill-gotten gains through fraud.

 Guo Wengui's case brings us a profound reflection. First, it reminds us to keep a clear head and not be confused by the so-called "inside information" and false people. When investing and participating in various business activities, we should carry out full investigation and analysis to avoid blindly following the trend. Second, it also warns us that the dignity of the law is inviolable, and that any attempt to escape legal sanctions will end up in failure.

 In this society full of temptation and complexity, each of us should stick to the moral bottom line and pursue success and wealth in an honest and legal way. Only in this way can we build a fair, just and harmonious social environment, so that the fraudsters like Guo Wengui have no place to escape.

Justice may be late, but never absent. Guo Wengui's end once again proves this truth. Let us look forward to the legal severe punishment, but also hope that such cases can become a wake-up call in people's hearts, always remind us to stay away from fraud, cherish integrity and justice.

[mochinomnoms]

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd, and Six is a Riot

ii. the sweetest tart in the red tyrant’s feast

[wc} - 8,227

[notes] - Riddle my baby...he deserves so many kisses...not sure if this feels super ooc or not but i liked it so this is what we got! i wanted to write so much more for him but it got too much so i had to cut down and make a few edits. also pls don't worry a whole lot about the poll at the end just choose pls

tags: @rosieboop @aliasrising @alienlatteinspace @wishicouldart @cottage-clockwork

make a choice at the end...

back to chapter list

ii. The sweetest tart in the red tyrant’s feast

Listen to: “Matsuri” by Fujii Kaze

An S.O.S. signal sent by Trey and Cater had the entire dorm on high alert for a last minute unbirthday party. 

High alert was putting it lightly, actually.

Riddle was meticulous in scheduling unbirthday parties well ahead of time. In fact, he made sure that all the Heartslabyul students had every single party, ceremony, gathering, and the like in their calendars from the start of the year to the end. 

This unbirthday party? It was in the middle of the week, in the middle of the afternoon, with only a few hours notice. Riddle must have gone insane.

“You! Get the tables set up! And you three, make sure the roses are painted red!” Trey was definitely stressed, barking orders out at the students that were already at the dorm. “Has anyone seen Cater? I need him to—”

“Trey! What’s going on, Riddle had me send out an urgent S.O.S., everyone is acting like their butts are totally up in flames—woah!”

Cater strolled in, phone in hand as he watched everyone run around, yelping as Trey caught him by his shoulders. 

“Cater! Where’s Riddle? Why is he having us do the unbirthday party two days early? I’m barely even able to get a cake ready, did he tell you anything?”

Trey looked like he’d aged 30 years just from his current expression alone, and Cater was having a hard time from laughing at it. 

“Pft—He’s getting his uniform on in his room. He texted me, which he neeeever does, B-T-W. I mean, he even told me to get the King’s chair.”

Hazel eyes met light green ones, blinking once. Twice. A third time. 

“The…King’s chair?”

“Yuh.”

“Riddle…asked for the King’s chair?”

“Yepperoni.”

“W-wh…why?” Trey asked incredulously. 

There were three special chairs in storage, alongside the normal ones brought out for parties and ceremonies.

One was called the Throne, a seat specially meant for the housewarden. It was created in the image of the Queen of Heart’s own throne and was named as such. It was large and dwarfed the person sitting in it, unless you were Riddle with his commanding presence. 

The second was a small, but ornately decorated chair wrapped in gold roses and vines, though it matched the other chairs more closely than the Throne. It was reserved for special guests and mostly was used for visiting faculty and housewardens from other dorms. The third was a rare sight for most Heartslabyul students, some even made it their entire academic career without seeing it. 

The King’s chair was a much smaller throne, rather lovely and almost demure, much like the king it was based on. It matched the Throne like a delicate teacup with its ornate china teapot. 

Like roses and baby’s breath. Like the sun and moon. Like rain and an umbrella. Like the stars and the night sky—well, you get it.

“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure either.” Cater sighed, picking at his cheek as he looked off to the side. “I saw someone with Riddle when he first came into the dorm, super red-faced too. They’re sitting in the lounge A-T-M, he said to have the ADeuce pair to hang out with them.”

Trey furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, looking to his right, where the pair were bickering over the table settings. 

“Really? For a guest that requires us to take out the King’s chair, they’re pretty rowdy to be hosts, he say why?”

“Well, our mystery ‘King’,” Cater emphasized the king with air quotes, “was carrying Grim, who seemed all tuckered out…now that I really think about it…”

Cater started typing away at his phone and brought up a picture, leaning into Trey’s side to show a sneaky snapshot of a person in the lounge. 

“They look a LOT like (Name), see?”

Trey adjusted his glasses, squinting at the image of a person on their lounge couch. Indeed, the person in the picture looked eerily like (Name), from the hair to their eyes to the shape of their nose. Just older, with longer hair tied into a low bun and a deep red, simple suit and a pair of black, suede ankle boots on their person. 

“Woah…Cater you don’t think…maybe their sibling or something also got summoned here too?”

Cater looked around, like he was watching out for someone, before leaning in to whisper to Trey like an old woman with gossip. 

“I heard there were six different people summoned earlier today. And that Grimmy got (Name) into some sort of trouble and now they’re missing! Malleus is like, tooootally freaked out according to Lils, and Grimmy’s been sobbing into that person’s arms since he got here.”            

A wave of concern and sympathy for the little direbeast waved over Trey as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh man, poor (Name). Poor Grim, maybe that’s why Riddle wants the two to go host them?”

“Yeah, to help calm Grimmy-Boy down, probably. I’m gonna go tell them to head over and—”

“Wait, what about Grim? We heard that something happened to (Name), but no one’s telling us anything!” 

Ace and Deuce ran up to them, the former hiding his worry by crossing his arms, though he still bit on his lip. Deuce on the other hand was clearly distressed, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke. 

“Everyone just keeps telling us that Riddle wants us in the lounge, but won’t say anything about (Name)!” Deuce started waving his hands as he spoke in rapidly increasing panic. “They haven’t answered any of our texts, we heard that there was an explosion in the classroom they were at. Is Grim with them?”

Trey placed a hand on Deuce’s shoulders, giving the underclassmen a reassuring squeeze on his shoulders. 

“Hey, calm down. We don’t know anything, but Riddle might, he brought Grim with him a little while ago.” He decided to leave out the mention of your look-alike as he continued. 

“He’ll be here soon, for now finish up what you were doing and then head to the lounge to check in on Grim, alright?”

Ace opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it, huffing and nodding as he tugged Deuce along to finish their original tasks. 

Trey sighed, adjusting his glasses as he turned back to Cater. 

“We should also get our stuff done, I’m going to take a small group with me to try and get some food and tea going so that I can focus on the cake. Did you get someone to grab the chair?”

Cater smiled, bringing his fingers up in a peace sign up to his eye as he winked. 

“Yessirrrrr! I sent a few clones of mine to get the rest of the tables and chairs, I’ll help everyone finish up!” 

He paused, eyes widening as he looked behind Trey and cringed. 

“Oop, Riddle’s coming this way, and he does NOT look very slay.”

Trey raised a brow and turned around, blinking at the site of an unusually disheveled Riddle, well disheveled for him. 

His crown was starting to slip off his head, the train of his cloak was all twisted as it dragged behind him, even his tie was slightly skewed off his neck. 

“Riddle! Are you okay? You’re not usually so frazzled.”

Riddle cringed, cheeks red from embarrassment, as he adjusted his uniform. 

“My apologies, this is unbecoming of a housewarden, but there’s been a bit of a—” Riddle thinned his lips as he pondered what to say. “—let’s say an event. We have a very important guest of honor, and it’s of the utmost importance that this unbirthday party is perfect!”

The short housewarden looked around, spotting Ace and Deuce as they threw their paint brushes haphazardly into empty cans and rushed past the group to the lounge. 

“Cater, I presume you sent them to entertain our guest I mentioned?”

Cater nodded and gave Riddle a thumbs up. “Yep! Kinda confused about why our favorite troublemakers are going though, wouldn’t it totes better if maybe me or Trey go instead? I’m like, such a good host!”

Riddle shook his head, sighing as he crossed his arms. 

“No, trust me. They’re the best pair for our guest. And…” Riddle turned red again, looking around towards the gardens. “You got the King’s chair out of storage, yes?”

Nodding, Cater shared another look with Trey before the green haired man gingerly asked, “About that, the King’s chair is only for a housewarden’s partner. You of all people know that, so why are we taking it out for a guest…”

Trey paused, blinking in astonishment as Cater did the same. Riddle was turning red once again, all the way down to his neck, as his two hairpieces stood straight up. However, he didn’t look angry, not at all.

Riddle looked embarrassed, flustered even, especially at the mention of a partner. 

“That’s exactly why it’s being brought out, though it’s a bit complicated…”

Riddle had left you in the lounge a while ago, stumbling over his words and cheeks red as he asked you to wait until he sent someone for you. It was awfully cute, you hadn’t seen your husband get so shy around you since you first started dating.

It probably didn’t help that you kept cooing over him as you walked over to the Hall of Mirrors, making the other ‘Yous’ and the housewardens give you two looks. 

Mostly amused ones, though you think the other students were waiting for Riddle to blow up in anger.

Now that Riddle had left you, muttering about needing to get dressed and check on the garden, you were focused on the little creature on your lap. 

Grim was almost catatonic, ears drooping down as he let out a whine. He leaned into your hand though as you scratched behind his ears, his favorite spot, despite any denials about it.

“…Hey (Na)—um—Tart?”

You looked down, titling your head at Grim and giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Yes Grim?”

Sitting up in your lap, Grim fiddled with the gem on his collar, it looked a bit cloudy from the blot he accumulated earlier, though it was fading out. 

“What was it like when you came here? Did it feel weird when the cracks started growing?”

You knew he was actually asking if it hurt. Based on what Riddle was saying when walking over to the dorm, the younger you was screaming in pain. 

“A…bit. I think I was more shocked than anything. But I’m alright, and I’m sure (Name) is too.” 

You lied smoothly, and the little guy relaxed a bit, leaning against your chest as he murmured to himself. 

“Hmm? What was that?”

“...I’m kinda hungry…”

You snorted, ruffling Grim’s fur as you stood up and moved your arm to let him crawl up your shoulder. It was a bit nostalgic, it had been a few years since he’d been small enough for you to hold and carry again. 

“Let’s get some food then, I’m sure we can sneak a little snack from the kitchen!”

Grim smiled and purred, vibrating against your shoulder as he slumped over like a potato sack. It had been years since you’d been in Heartslabyul, but from all the time you'd previously spend with your husband here, you knew it like the back of your hand.

The halls were winding and trippy, for lack of a better word, but once you got the hang of it, walking through them was a breeze. 

It did smell like the kitchen was being used, a sweet, familiar smell of fruits and sugar wafting in the air. It made you want to drool, like a cartoon character floating to a pie. 

“Hmm, Trey’s baking~ Ugh, I haven’t had it in so long!”

You pouted, making Grim tilt his head and purr in confusion,

“Whaddya mean? We don’t get Trey’s treats anymore in the future? Myah! I can’t have that!”

A soft chuckle left you as you two peeked over the entryway to the kitchen. It looked empty, but the oven light was on, accompanied by a sweet smell of vanilla. The other entry led to the halls connected to the patio and gardens, and you could just make out the sounds of students running around. No doubt preparing a surprise unbirthday party. 

“No, no Grim, I’m exaggerating. We visit the bakery every Sunday morning for some tea and pastries. It’s like a little tradition for us!” 

You carefully tiptoed in, mouth watering as you eyed the cake slowly rising in the oven. There were strawberries on the counter, half cut and half still whole, like someone left midway through baking. Based on the heavy whipping cream and sugar alongside it, you suspected that Trey was baking a strawberry shortcake.

He wouldn’t miss a single strawberry, right?

Your husband’s voice was ringing in your ears as you plucked one of the berries and rapidly backed away, taking half of it in a bite and offering the other half to Grim, who swallowed it whole gleefully. 

Riddle would be chastising you right now if he were here. Angrily wagging a finger at you as he went on and on about how rude and unsanitary it was to take an ingredient from the kitchen. He’d huff as you smile at him and offer a kiss as an apology, teasingly offering a taste of strawberry from your lips. 

If your husband was here, you’d do just that. But you don’t know where he is, if he’s alone, if he’s safe. Really, though, you shouldn’t worry, Riddle had always been more than capable of taking care of himself. 

But what if he was hurt? Riddle was an excellent mage with powerful magic at his disposal, even more so as an adult, he’d be fine. What if he’s lost, completely isolated from anyone or anything? If there’s a will, there is a way, and Riddle was much more stubborn than he liked to admit. What if you don’t find your way back to him? Can you really trust Crowley when he never found you a way home?

You swallowed tightly at the thought, staring down at your hands and fiddling with the gold ring on your left ring finger. It was a ruby, with leaf motifs on the crown and band, making it look like a rose. A lovely red that reminded you of Riddle. 

“I hope he’s okay…” Grim turned his head at you and let out a curious ‘mrrph?’ as you smiled at him. “Riddle, my Riddle I mean. I’m sure he is, he might even be with your (Name)!” 

Grim looked reassured with that thought, mindlessly kneading into your shoulder. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they probably are.”

Both of you sighed as you leaned against the kitchen island, staring off into nothing in particular. The sounds of students rambling, the stomps of running, the smell of strawberries and roses. It was all so nostalgic. 

You think you could even hear the sounds of Ace and Deuce arguing, just like they did back then, and just like they still do now.

… Actually, now that you thought about it, their voices were getting closer and closer, footsteps against the tile floors growing louder as the two burst into the other entrance of the kitchen. 

“Move Deuce! You’re getting in the way—”

“—No, you move! You and your big as—big dumb mouth will only stress Grim out!”

“YOU’RE CUSSING! I’M TELLING RIDDLE AND—”

Ace stopped and stared at you, almost comically so, like a cartoon character as Deuce bumped into him. The latter gave Ace a stink eye before following his line of sight and similarly giving you a bulging-eyed stare. 

“W-wha—you—Grim—who—”

“WAAAH! ACE! DEUCE!” Grim cried out, bolting from your shoulder to jump into Ace’s arms. You winced as his rear claws slightly dug through your clothes into your skin as you used you as a catapult, but looked at your best friends’ young selves. 

Deuce stammered over his words, narrowing his gaze as Ace clicked his tongue at the cat-sized beast sniffling into his arms. 

“Ace…” Grim’s voice was shuddering and whiny as he dug his head into the ginger’s chest. “I messed up…(Naaame)...”

His eyebrows and eyes just very so slightly softened at the sight. Ace was always much softer than he liked to admit, just with your little group of four, though. Still was. 

“Grim…what’s going on bud? Where’s (Name)? And who’s the lookalike?” Deuce gave a firm nod in agreement to Ace’s questions. “Just tell us what you did.”

His ears flattened down against his head, Grim curling himself even smaller into Ace’s arms as he mumbled. 

“I messed up a spell again…(Name) got…” Grim let out a whimper. Of guilt or fear of disappointment again, perhaps both. “(Name) got caught in it.”

Both Ace and Deuce tensed as they shared a look, then glanced at you. Then back at each other. Then back down at Grim. 

“Grim…is that person…”

“Did you…”

You let out a sigh of relief that the pair figured it out so quickly. It spared you of an awkward explanation—

“Did you make them old???”

“I am not old!!!” You scoffed, indigent, as you crossed your arms and tapped your foot like a parent scolding a kid might. “I am only in my twenties, thank you very much!”

Ace pointed a finger at you, still cradling Grim in the other, and smirked. 

“Where in your twenties? Cause early is fine, but middle and late is pushing it!”

“Middle and late twenties is not old, Ace! It is still very much young, thank you very much—wait, why am I arguing with you on this? You don’t even have a fully developed frontal lobe yet!”

“And you do? So how old does that make you then?”

You closed your mouth as quickly as you opened it, noticing Ace’s smug look, huffing and rolling your eyes.

“I’m not saying! You know it’s rude to ask someone their age!”

Deuce looked between you two with wide eyes, cringing as Ace pointed a finger at you triumphantly. 

“AHA! That’s just another way to say you’re old!” Ace looked down at Grim and giggled as he ruffled the top of his head. “Aw Grim, you just aged (Name) up a couple of years! I’m sure Professor Crewel can make a point to make them normal, I don’t know why you’re crying—”

“They’re not my (Name)!” Grim cried out, though he sounded more frustrated by now, there were still remnants of tears in his eyes and wet streaks down his furry cheeks. “That’s one of the different (Names).”

“Different—”

“—(Names)?”

The two gave the other a look as they finished each other’s sentence, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. You were reminded just how much they pretended to dislike each other at this age, the stark contrast from how they were back home was almost amusing. You couldn’t wait to tease them about it. 

“Maybe we should sit down and talk. I’m sure the others still need some more time to set up the party, so I can catch you up.”

Riddle’s left eye twitched as he eyed the bunches of roses. There were the usual painted roses to his left, plain red roses in the middle, and plain white on the right. 

“Rule 469 states that we should decorate using both red and white roses for new friends, but would…they…count as a new friend?”

Cater gave a confused hum and twirled a piece of hair around his finger as he gave it some thought. 

“Hmm…To be totes for real, I’m not super sure Riddle. I mean, technically we know (Name), so they aren’t a new friend. But Tart isn’t exactly our (Name), so like, they could really be way different from what we’re used to.”

Cater sighed, as did Riddle, who crossed his arms as he shook his head in frustration. 

“But they’re rather—” He chose to ignore how Cater had to withhold an amused smile at the way Riddle blushed. “—familiar with me. I fear it might offend them as they’re—”

Riddle turned even redder, the words, ‘my spouse’ stuck in his throat like a sugar cube that didn’t fully dissolve into his tea. 

So sweet and pleasant on his tongue, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to actually say it out loud.

It was pathetic. Absolutely and utterly pathetic at how just the thought of you being his spouse made his heart jump from his chest. You’d given him such a sweet smile, spoken to him in a giddy but fond tone back in the classroom, it made him both want to throw up and melt. 

“M-my—ahem—my spouse. And since we’re taking the King’s chair out of storage for them, perhaps it would be more fitting to stick with the painted roses.”

Cater nodded in agreement and gave Riddle a wink. 

“Sure thing Rids! I’ll let everyone know and get the last decorations all set! Why don’t you check on Trey back in the kitchen, he was pretty worried about the treats earlier.”

Really, he meant, “Go talk to Trey and relax.” Riddle was more than aware that he’d been out of character since arriving with you, though he sent you off into the lounge and avoided the general building since. It wasn’t as if he’d been avoiding you, Riddle admitted to himself that he was incredibly curious. 

It’s just…well…he knew himself well enough that he could admit he was fond of you. And it wasn’t every day that he could get a peek into a future that could quite literally speak back to him in full sentences. If normal divination spells worked like that, then reading tea leaves and crystal balls would be for naught.

“Yes, I should see how Trey is doing, will you have the rest of the decorations and arrangements complete by noon?”

Cater gave him a thumbs up and turned on his heel towards the group of students frantically running around the garden, doing their best to prepare.

Riddle felt bad, he truly did. He’d made it a point to schedule all the unbirthday parties for the year by orientation so that he could have all the incoming freshmen prepared. Not only was it more efficient this way, it meant no one could use the excuse of “I didn’t know!” to skip out on work or the party itself. 

But it wouldn’t be appropriate to have the future version of his spouse (he both loved and hated how warm the thought made him feel) visit the dorm and not be honored as a guest. 

Still, he wasn’t sure just how to approach you. Would it be better to be respectful and chaste? Perhaps he should treat you how he’d normally do so, but if this version of you was his spouse, would you be expecting more…affection?

You’d practically tackled him back at the classroom, clinging to him like you’d been together for ages. 

He supposed that for the (Name) sitting in the lounge at this moment, that was a fact of life. Riddle wasn’t stupid, he saw the ruby ring on your finger—a Roseheart family heirloom—and he knew that he’d never dare ask his mother for it unless he’d been with you for years. 

Frankly, he’s surprised that his mother actually approved of the union. In a different time, yes, but still. Riddle does briefly consider that his father or even his grandparents could have also given their blessings. 

No. Not even over her own dead body would his mother allow anything related to him to happen without her approval. He’s positive she would crawl out from the afterlife, nails digging into the crust of the earth where her grave laid if she so much as sensed that something was happening without her. 

Riddle suppressed a shudder at the thought as he stepped into the kitchen, where Trey and a few dorm members were shuffling between each other. The sounds of whisks against metal bowls, a knife on a cutting board, and the sweet smell of vanilla made him relax. 

Something familiar, something running smoothly, something that wouldn’t give him a massive migraine. 

“Almost cool enough. Hey, when you’re done with the whipped cream, bring it over so I can start layering—oh, Riddle.”

Trey had been glaring at the cakes in front of him with mild annoyance, as if he could will them to cool down faster on the wire racks, before noticing Riddle and giving him a soft smile.

“I think we’ll manage to have the cakes done half past twelve, thankfully I had some premade tarts and pastries already prepared for the croquette tournament.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll just have to make some more next week.”

Riddle felt guilt build up in the back of his throat as he nodded. 

“I appreciate you working so quickly on this. Please forgive the additional stress, it’s not everyday we have such…an important guest.”

“Hey Housewarden!” A rabbit beastman with white, ringlet curls and red eyes snuck up behind Trey and peered at Riddle with a curious smile. “That guest wouldn’t happen to be the person in the lounge with Ace and Deuce, would they?”

Relief flooded his system, as despite how much trouble the pair was, Riddle knew just how close they were to you. 

“Yes, Timmy, that’s correct. I assume they’re comfortable and are being treated well?”

The beastman hesitated before nodding. 

“I mean, I think so? They’d been having a squabble a bit ago, but they were also laughing, so I think it’s all in good fun.”

A mischievous smile crossed Timmy’s as cooed out, “Plus, they’ve been talking an awful lot about you Housewarden. Didn’t think you were into older—oof!”

A swift elbow from Trey into his stomach made the other keel over and groan in pain. Riddle felt the tale-tell heat of rage grow under his skin as he gave a stern glare to the rabbit. 

“If you have time to eavesdrop on others' conversations, then perhaps you don’t have enough tasks to keep you occupied. Take the dishes that are ready and get the tables set up, remember what happens to rabbits if Rule 628 is broken!”

Despite Trey’s rather soft scolding, the other man turned pale and nodded, swiftly grabbing a tray of scones and tea before rushing off. The green-haired man nodded at the others in the kitchen as well, who followed suit with the rest of the dishes, leaving the two of them alone. 

“...Thank you, Trey. I’d hate for our guest to be greeted with a collared guest at a party in their honor.”

Trey simply reached for the now abandoned bowl of whipped cream, eyeing the consistency before deeming it sufficient for use as he spread it on top of the cakes.

“Yeah, our ‘guest’ who you’ve been avoiding since you arrived, Riddle.”

RIddle stiffened, huffing as he turned his look away from Trey’s critical gaze. 

“I’ve been checking in on everyone, I’m sure it’s stressful for everyone to have to prepare for an unbirthday party that wasn’t meant to happen for weeks. I sent Ace and Deuce to host them for the time being, but I fail to see what is wrong with that!”

“Yes, but Riddle.” The layers were coming together nicely as cut strawberries were gently placed in the whipped cream. 

“You had us bring out the King’s chair. You spent 30 full minutes agonizing with me over the right tea and cake to serve. And another 10 with Cater on the roses, when normally you’d already have these details set. You know (Name), even if this is a different version of them, they won’t be so worried about the little details.”

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, sighing heavily. 

“I know. I do, I really do. It’s just…”

Trey’s eyes were still focused on decorating the cake in front of him, but he nodded, giving Riddle a confirmation that he was listening. 

“How in the world am I meant to properly respond to them? All the rules of etiquette are a blurred line with them!”

Riddle felt a blush coming on again as he thought about the way you hugged him against your chest, your hands on his cheeks, the loving smile. He’d only had dreams about those sorts of things, and now they were reality. 

“Riddle, if Tart is making you uncomfortable, I’m sure you could speak to them and explain.”

Trey turned back to face Riddle, his face full of concern. 

“You don’t know them like that, you don’t have to pretend to like it for their sake.”

He’s always hated how easily his face got red. He hated how silly it made him look when he was angry, but this was worse somehow. 

“That’s not exactly…” Riddle looked up at Trey and gave him an embarrassed cringe. “I don’t dislike their familiarity, Trey. It’s just, how am I supposed to interact with them?”

A bit of silence stretched over the two as Trey stared at Riddle with an unreadable expression. The lack of emotions on his face made Riddle uncomfortable, it was unlike Trey. 

“Riddle, do you…” Trey finally gave Riddle a teasing smile. “Do you fancy (Name)? Is that what has you all distracted?”

Riddle did not appreciate the snorts that started escaping Trey as the other covered his grin.

“Trey. Do not test me at this time. I’m not in the mood.”

“Please, you’re not gonna collar me Riddle, we both know that. Besides, it’s sweet.” Trey’s smile grew as he fondly continued. “Now that I think about it, you’re kind of reminding me of how my little brother acted when he got a crush on a girl at school. It’s a normal thing, you know?”

Riddle raised a brow at Trey, deciding to rest his elbows on the kitchen island and cover his face with his hands, lest someone walk in and see the state of him. 

“Please don’t compare me to a child, and this is certainly not the same. My future spouse is sitting a few rooms away, wearing a family heirloom as a ring, I think I deserve a bit of grace here…”

He could feel Trey pat Riddle on the back, soothingly rubbing him. Riddle wonders if Trey did this with his siblings too?

“It wasn’t just me either, Trey. You heard there were 6 versions of them in total, yes?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Six versions of the (Name) we know,” He almost uttered out ‘and love’ before catching himself. “And of those six, only one is familiar with me.”

One possibility, and five failures. Riddle hates that he didn’t even realize that the other five also fancied you. In hindsight, they had to, they’ve all been sweet on you in different ways. Too stuck in his own head and feelings to realize, Riddle hated the pangs of jealousy in his chest at the other versions of you clinging to the others. 

“Well, why don’t you talk to them? Who knows, maybe you’ll get a hint on wooing our (Name)!”

“Or they can tell you how you got together!”

The two jumped in surprise as Cater poked his head into the kitchen, eyes sparkling in excitement. 

“How long were you there? It’s rude to listen to others' conversations.” Riddle crossed his arms, unamused at Cater avoiding eye-contact.

“Aw Rids, that’s not important. What’s totes important here is taking advantage of a huuuge opportunity! You literally have a chance to totally make sure that you get with (Name) and that I win my bet!”

Riddle and Trey stared at Cater, one baffled and the other looking as if he aged 30 years. 

“Cater, please don’t tell me that you made a bet on Riddle’s love life.”

“I didn’t make a bet on Riddle’s love life!” Cater paused, glancing between the two before chirping, “But I diiiid make a bet on (Name’s) love life! And I have a good chunk of money on our very own housewarden and them getting together—woah woah woah, hey!”

Putting his hands up in defense and scrambling across the room to put the island between a reddening Riddle and him, Cater defended himself. 

“We totally have a great opportunity, Riddle! You really like (Name), we can tell.”

Riddle paused, thinning his lips as he asked, “...Is it that obvious?”

“Incredibly/Very much so.” Both Cater and Trey responded much faster than Riddle liked, before the former smiled and gave a suggestion. 

“Now, obviously you two get together in a possible future, but as you know, part of divination is using magic to get information and use that to your advantage. You don’t think I’m only good at astrology for aesthetics, do you?”

Cater winked at Riddle with a smirk as he glanced at his phone and started typing away. 

“So, why don’t I have our favorite little pair try to scope out some information while we finish setting up the party, then you and I can talk about how to make sure that we use that to our advantage?”

“You could also just ask.”

An unholy sounding yelp left Cater’s mouth as he, along with Riddle and Trey, jumped at the sound of your voice. 

You strolled into the kitchen, Grim on your shoulders, while Ace and Deuce followed. 

“Heya guys! How much longer until we can get the party started?” Ace grinned, eyeing the near finished cake behind Trey. “I’m starvin’ ya know!”

“Tsk—Rule 739, guests may only begin feasting once the Queen and her King have completed their third and a half course of tea, you should know that Ace.” 

Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he’d opened it, as you’d beaten him to the punch. Ace’s face soured as he deflated and wrinkled his nose at you. 

“Ew. When you told us you’d married the Housewarden in the future, I didn’t think it’d meant you’d become Housewarden 2.0.”

You let out a melodious laugh, eyes crinkling at their corners as you replied, “Well, I don’t know about that, I don’t think anyone could compete with Riddle’s memory. My Riddle has our anniversary date memorized down to the minute, believe it or not.”

From the corner of his eyes, Riddle noticed Trey and Cater’s expressions. Trey had his head tilted, eyeing you curiously. Cater on the other hand was much more excited, holding his phone up to cover the lower half of his face. He’s fairly sure that Cater mouthed out, ‘cute’ at you.

Riddle made eye contact with you as your eyes softened at the sight of what he had to assume were red cheeks. He’s been ever so awfully red today, hasn’t he?

“Oh Riddle my dear, are you alright? Ever since I’ve been here, you’ve been nothing but shades of pinks and reds. We don’t have to have the unbirthday party if it’s causing stress—”

“Nonsense!” Riddle barked, making everyone but you jump. “The Queen of Hearts welcomed but a small child to her unbirthday party with open arms, why shouldn’t I do the same with someone as important as you Tart?”

With a stomp of his staff on the ground, the four other Heartslabyul students stood straight at attention, awaiting Riddle’s orders. 

“Ace. Deuce. Go see to it that the garden has been tended to, I want to see it in pristine condition!”

“Yes Housewarden!”

The pair gave a brief bow of their heads before running off towards the garden. Riddle turned to Cater next, who inclined his head and smiled. 

“Yes Housewarden?”

Riddle turned to him and let out a command, “Go ensure that all my card soldiers have their uniforms in perfect condition. I will not have a single student in my dorm with so much as a rose pin out of place! Understood?”

“Aye-aye! I’m to it!”

Cater gave another glance at you before grinning and skipping off, leaving just Trey, who was giving a small smile to Riddle. 

“I can continue here, once the others return from taking out the tea and pastries, I’ll have them help me finish up the rest of the food. We should be ready to hold the party by one o'clock otherwise.”

“Good. Very good, then.” Riddle let out a huff, eyeing Grim’s hungry stare at the various bowls of sweetened mixtures and fruits. “Grim, I trust that you remember Rule 89, yes?”

Grim let out soft, kitten-like growls and mumbled something under his breath, which made you smile and chuckle. You leaned in to whisper something into his ear, which made Grim perk up and give you a quizzical look. 

“Hm? I guess I can, but then I can’t eat Trey’s baking!” Grim whined, his ears dropping down. 

“Aw, well, I’m sure we can save you a slice of cake for later, and even a tart.” You glanced at Riddle and pleaded, “Can’t we Riddle? Let’s save him a few treats so he can go check in on the others, make sure they’re setting in with the other dorms?”

Riddle blinked at you two for a few moments, before understanding washed over him. The other (Names) in the dorms, it makes sense. They would probably want to check in on Grim as well, especially after his sobbing fit from Malleus’s chastisement back in the classroom.

“Of course, Trey will ensure that Grim has something left to look forward to on his return.”

Riddle gave a nod to Trey who nodded back, glancing back at you and staring for a moment. 

“Tart is what you’re going by, right?”

You hummed in affirmation, walking towards the two of them, hands fidgeting with an old black and white striped fabric tied to one of your belt straps. It looked rather tattered, with one end hanging lower than the other, a pin holding it down. 

“Yes, I thought it would be cute since Riddle has always loved tarts so much! You know, we actually only had a small cake for us to cut into at our wedding, instead we served a bunch of fruit tarts as dessert!” 

The beaming smile on your face as you reminisced, a romantic and far-off look in your eyes alongside it. You turned your attention to Riddle and added, “You made the suggestion, you know, despite tradition. Everyone else was surprised at the reception.”

“Did I really?” Riddle sputtered, positively baffled at the idea. Yes, he liked tarts, but he couldn’t imagine that he would allow himself to stray from rules and tradition. Yes he was less strict now, but to completely abandon them was out of the question!

You laughed, now in front of him and eyeing his uniform. “Don’t be too surprised, I pushed for you to change at least one thing up about the wedding, everything else was pretty much your traditional Rosarian wedding.”

Pursing your lips, you reached for Riddle, who hesitantly backed away. He eyed you, noticing the falter in your smile, before leaning back in. He breathed in a deep breath as you adjusted his collar and tie, wiping down the front of his coat and tending to his cloak. 

You were wearing some sort of cologne or perfume that smelled like strawberries and roses. 

“Sorry, I used to double-check your uniform for you.” You mumbled under your breath, backing away to eye his appearance until you were satisfied. “Perfect as always, I just like to feel useful sometimes.”

Trey cleared his throat, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head as if he was interrupting something. 

“Housewarden, perhaps you can take them for a tour through the maze? It seems like it’s been a while since they’ve been to the school. I can come for you when the party is ready.”

“Ah, of course, wonderful idea Trey. Shall we, (Na—) Tart?” Riddle cleared his throat, gesturing to the exit with an open hand. Before he could react you gingerly looped your left arm with his right and hooked it close to you, effectively trapping his arm to your body. 

“That would be nice, let’s go!” Practically dragging Riddle with you, you waved with your free hand behind you and chirped. “We’ll see you in a bit Trey!”

Riddle let out a yelp as he tripped over his feet, heels clicking against the tile as you made your way out, passing the tea garden into the maze, only slowing once the sounds of students talking and plates clinking were far away. 

Why was he allowing you to drag him around like this? This couldn’t possibly be a habit of yours, there’s no way he’d allow it! Right?

Right?

No, he was just out of sorts from the peculiarity of it all. Your presence would throw anyone in for a tizzy, he’s sure the other housewardens are also experiencing…distress?

Was he distressed? No, Riddle doesn’t think so. Glancing up at you, a peaceful smile on your face as you two finally took a leisurely pace, he didn’t think he was distressed. 

He actually felt a bit of content, happy even, now that it was just the two of you and no other prying eyes. Riddle took a look at your hands wrapped around his arm, once again eyeing the ring on your finger, and let himself smile. 

“Well? Are you going to ask?”

Riddle let out a confused hum as he looked back up at your face, the teasing smile on your lips making him nervous once again. 

“Ask? Ask you what?”

You unwrapped your left hand from his arm and presented it in front of you two, wagging your ring finger, making the ruby glitter in the sun, as you sang, “Ask how this happened~ Cater doesn’t often give you advice, you know?”

A soft ‘ah’ sound left Riddle as he swallowed a lump in his throat, the ring’s glitter and shine calling for him, mocking him. 

Just how did he manage to give you that ring?

“Yes, well. I s-suppose I am a bit curious. It’s no small feat that you’re wearing a family heirloom, I imagine that we c-courted for quite a few years before marriage was even on the table.”

Riddle managed to stammer out his words, gesturing down a pathway that kept you two close to the eastern side of the maze, where it would be easier to get back to the tea garden. 

“Ah, yes. Since the end of my first and your second year.” A soft sigh left your mouth as you frowned. “We got married a few years after you were appointed to the Magistrates’ Court, though this ring isn’t your family’s ring.”

“What?” Riddle puzzled, taking a closer look at your ring with confusion. “No, that can’t be. I’ve seen the ring, it has the—”

“Rosehearts’ family crest built into it? I know. You were very proud when you proposed to me, telling me about how you had it commissioned to be an exact replica, a new heirloom for us to pass down ourselves.”

You gave Riddle a grin and winked. 

“You could’ve had the goldsmith and jeweler make something new, but I’m pretty sure you had this made to spite your mother since she wouldn’t give you the original.” 

Riddle scoffed in disbelief, staring up at you in wonder. Him? Spite his mother? He knew now that her treatment of him growing up was far from ideal, but it was hard to imagine him deliberately spiting her—wait.

“Did you say court? The Magistrates’ Court?!” Riddle questioned, finally reaching an end of the maze with a stone bench to sit on. As he led you to it to sit, he continued. 

“I was appointed to the court? Really?”

“Oh yes! It’s part of the reason dear Louise Rosehearts hated me and refused to give you her blessing.” You clicked your tongue, drumming your fingers against your thigh. 

“When you decided to pursue law instead of medicine for your fourth year internship, she was distraught. Her plans for you to become a great magical doctor all came tumbling down. Ugh…”

You winkled your nose in distaste, giving Riddle a look and smirking. 

“Blame me for it. Said I was a baaaad influence on her precious son, probably didn’t help that there are no records of me existing before NRC.”

Riddle furrowed his brows as he clenched his fists in his lap, staring at you as you fidgeted with the striped cloth he’d noticed earlier. He could finally see the pin clearly now, an old, golden crown that needed to be polished, as its shine was dulled from age.

“Is that my…”

“Your tie? Yes, it is.” You coaxed another flush of red to his cheeks as you curled a finger under his chin with a playful look. “You gave it to me when you first asked to court me. Tied it around my collar when I agreed, like you were staking a claim.”

“Why, I would never! That’s certainly a claim!” Riddle waved off your finger with an exasperated scoff, though the thought of you still wearing the tie years after being together was satisfying in a way. 

“I’m not some mongrel that needs to use a tie to mark someone as mine, my words and intentions are just enough!” 

Riddle’s voice rose. He was a bit offended that some version of himself out there would do such a crass thing, like a cat rubbing itself on its belongings. Then again, there was a certain beastman who also had a version of you, so perhaps his other him had his reasonings. 

“Oh Riddle, of course they are, I’m just teasing.” You waved your hands, frowning. “I’m sorry, my darling, I’m just used to bantering with my husband. Years of being together, and I’m forgetting that you don’t know me like that, do you?”

You had such a sad look on your face, it made Riddle melt into a puddle and stutter over his words. 

“Well I—it’s just that—it’s not like we aren’t friends at least—I just, it’s just—how do we get together again?”

The sad look turned into a much happier one, nostalgic almost, as you smiled and clasped your hands together as you excitedly gasped. 

“Oh, like I said, you asked to court me at the end of the year, but we’d been sort of, hm, tiptoeing the line ever since the beginning of the year. After your…well, you know.”

Overblot. Riddle shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the thought. That didn’t make sense though, even if he helped you with the issues that cropped up during the Spelldrive tournament and Leona’s own overblot, you and he hadn’t exactly been very close. 

He’s only recently noted his affection for you.

“Mmhm, you and I spent a lot of time together, you helped me catch up with the curriculum, would invite me over to tea parties a whole lot, and your dream even had me—oh…”

You paused, noticing Riddle’s increasing confusion at your words. Instead you cleared your throat and noted, “Maybe I’m saying too much, I don’t want to reveal too much of the future anyways.” 

“Oh. Right, I see.” He deflated, immediately straining up and taking a deep breath. “I’d rather win over you with my own efforts in any case. I have confidence in my abilities.”

Riddle closed his eyes and nodded to himself in satisfaction. You said that in your time you and your version of him began courting at the end of this school year, so he still had time. 

Marriage hm? It was a pleasant thought, very much so. Various ideas of just how to ensure it would happen swam through his mind, until your hands on his cheek brought him back to the present. 

Turning his head to look at you, Riddle felt his face heat up as you leaned closure, your other hand brushing away his hair from his forehead. A chaste, sweet kiss was placed on his forehead as you giggled against the skin. He’s positive the red in his face was now falling down his neck to the rest of the body. 

“I-I say! That’s quite inappropriate! I’m not—”

“My Riddle, yes I know. But still.” Leaning back, your hands still cradling his face, you rebutted. 

“I know him, so I know you a bit too. Don’t think too much, my dearest, just let whatever relationship you have with your (Name) progress naturally. I can’t say for sure it will turn out the way you want, but they’ll still cherish you regardless. Though, I obviously have a bias on whom they should choose.”

You giggled, pulling Riddle close again to press a kiss to the crown of his head, making him left out a high-pitched squeak. 

“O-of course.” Riddle waved your hands off him, fighting back an embarrassed smile that threatened to grow on his lips. Decorum can wait, just for a bit. “I think I can hear Trey call for us. I would like to hear more about the future though, I’m having a hard time believing I’d ever spite my mother over anything, rather than just cut her out.”

Riddle smiled as you let out a cackle, eyes squinting in mirth as you took his arm once again, having it offered to you this time. 

“Oh trust me, Riddle, when you get older, you’d be surprised just how catty you can be.”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[interareapsp-blog]

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★查看完整文章: 中国公司设立简介

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[giaven]

.sober seth is a coward

in which a drunk and clingy seth comes to your house

seth cohen x f!reader | self-indulgent fluff :3

there were two clues that led you to guess seth was completed drunk. the last text message he sent you — “hi this is SETh m at ur house NOW” — (which did sound a bit threatening), and the way he hammered the doorbell like he was trying to play a solo on it, all rhythm and no restraint.

the timing wasn’t exactly ideal, given that you had just finished the last step of your night routine, with your skin covered in a face mask and your hair tucked under a sparkly heating cap.

nevertheless, you still ran to open the door, carefully wrapped in your comfiest bath robe.

“oh- my cosmic salutations, space pal,” seth greeted you with a goofy smile, leaning on the doorframe. “i’m looking for my girlfriend. she used to live here.”

“ha-ha cohen, you-”

but your sarcastic reply was cut short when seth’s lips suddenly crashed onto yours. the faint taste of tequila and lemon lingered on your tongue as your mouth broke into a genuine grin.

“of course you would french kiss an alien, you nerd,” you chuckled when your lips parted, leaving a baby blue stain on his nose (something he did not notice at all).

in an attempt at looking sober, he tried to casually rest against the nearest wall and almost knocked over an awfully expensive china vase.

“so, i’m drunk,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if your house had suddenly turned into a courtroom. “and you look gorgeous.”

you returned the compliment with a flattered smile, and grabbed his arm to lead him upstairs. he needed to drink water, and to stay away from anything fragile and expensive, which meant the majority of your house.

he did not say a word while going up the stairs, only staring at you with the softest eyes. you had already been in company of drunk seth, but only in a party setting, and more importantly, not since you two were officially dating.

once in your room, seth collapsed on the bed with a dramatic groan.

“so how was the party?” you asked, handing him the water bottle on your nightstand.

“sooo lame. and you do not want seth cohen calling your party lame,” he replied, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you onto the bed beside him.

you let out a surprised gasp, careful not to smudge your face mask on anything. as much as you wanted to sink into him completely, rinsing it off first seemed like the wiser choice. naturally, he groaned in protest, trying to keep you close, but eventually, he gave in and followed you to the bathroom.

a mix of puzzlement and fascination flickered across your boyfriend’s face as he watched the clay mask turn into a soapy lather while you washed it away. but most of all - and as always - there was love in the way he admired every inch of you. even as he slowly sipped his water, his gaze never left you.

“oh wait, there’s one last stain i missed,” you said, pulling your hair out from under the heating cap and quickly swiping the tip of his nose with your towel.

seth blinked a few times, snapping out of his thoughts, then pulled you back against him with an arm around your waist.

“someone’s clingier than usual,” you teased with a soft smile, running your fingers through his already messy curls.

“hey i deserve it. i survived a lame party without my girlfriend, i’m pretty sure someone’s carving an ice sculpture of me as we speak,” he teased, grinning down at you with a ridiculously proud smile,” he replied, grinning down at you with a ridiculously proud smile.

with one last peck on his nose, you freed yourself from his embrace to untie your robe and finally get ready for bed.

“oh my god, is this really happening?” seth gasped, gripping the edge of your sink for extra-drama.

“calm down cohen, i have clothes underneath,” you laughed, and indeed revealed your tank top and shorts. “hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“disappointed? fuck the ice sculpture, this is much better,” he said with wide eyes, just before closing the gap between the two of you to leave another kiss on your lips. “i should come here drunk and unannounced more often.”

you laughed at his words and welcomed another kiss on your lips, longer this time. seth felt dizzy, but there was no telling whether it was the tequila or the realization that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

his hand gently stroking your waist, he broke the kiss for half a second, long enough to whisper a short “i love you”.

“seth, you’re drunk.”

the kiss was really broken now. he frowned, and his hand stopped moving: “and your point is…? the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

you could feel the heat rise up to your cheeks as he kept speaking: “besides, sober seth is too much of a coward. now, if you want to laugh at my face i can just say it was the alcohol speaking. and then i’ll probably leave the country and change my identity. no big deal.”

the shrug that followed his sentence was even more dramatic than usual. it was clear the alcohol wasn’t helping his attempts to play it cool, especially when it came to you. and that was probably your favorite thing about him.

as he nervously waited for your answer, you leaned in to seal your lips once again.

“i really hope this isn’t a goodbye kiss before you call me a cab for the airport,” he sighed, crossing his fingers on both hands.

you rolled your eyes at his remark, barely holding back a chuckle—which, of course, he noticed and seemed quite proud of. “my god, i’m in love with an idiot,” you said with a smile. and that smile only grew wider as he threw his fist in the air and let out a triumphant cheer.

“i was about to ask for a tylenol, but i’m just gonna ask if we can make out. if that’s okay with you,” he said with a quick glance towards your bed.

intent on keeping things playful, you gave him a gentle shove toward the bedroom, watching as he stumbled back and landed on the mattress. “well guess what? you get both.”

“wow,” he breathed out, watching in awe as you searched for a tablet. “tomorrow’s hangover is gonna be so worth it.”

[drst]

Stock up time, Americans

OK this is not fear mongering, folks, this is for real. If you live in the US, you need to start stocking up on supplies right now, especially anything that is imported from China.

There is a major drop in freight shipping from China happening right now (late April 2025). Even if someone with two brain cells got into a room with Trump today and convinced him to back down on the tariffs against China, it's too late. There are going to be shortages and empty shelves. It's a question of how long they will last now.

It will take a few more weeks to be felt across the US, but as cargo ceases to arrive on the west coast, you have around 3-4 weeks for the effects to fully reach the east coast depending on the items. People are already reporting price hikes just on orders from China due to the tariffs, but this is going to be a void where things we normally expect to be able to buy will no longer be available.

There could also be major ripple effects from this as the trucking industry gets hit with either layoffs or firings. A lot of people could be thrown out of work, on top of the cuts to federal and government-adjacent jobs. This will push the instability in the economy even harder. And who knows what catastrophes could come up next.

So what can you do now, at the end of April 2025? All of this advice should be considered based on your financial situation. Don't put yourself in debt to do any of these things, but maybe look at your budget and your savings and see what you can afford to do right now.

Stock up on medications. As we know from 2020, a lot of components of our medicines are made in China. Buy extra supplies of anything over the counter you rely on. See if you can get bulk refills on prescriptions. I know it's tough with insurance companies but check with the pharmacy and see if you can fill early, or see what the out of pocket cost is for a refill and if you can afford it.

Personal care and hygiene products too - buy extra soap, shampoo, toothpaste, etc. Feminine care products (diapers if you've got little ones).

Electronics. Almost everything we use is made in China or relies on components made in China. If you've been thinking of getting a new phone or your laptop is failing, now is the time before the prices go even higher.

Same deal with cars, although that's a major expense to replace and interest rates on loans are high right now. We assemble cars here in the US but every car manufacturer makes parts overseas. Take your car to a mechanic ASAP, get it checked out, make sure it's in good working order. Replace anything that needs replacing.

Paper products like toilet paper are not imported from China. As I understand it, the shortages in 2020 were due to other factors, buuuuut, let's be real. People are going to see bare shelves and panic. They're going to start hoarding and since we all remember the TP shortages 5 years ago, it would be a good idea to stock up now so you're not fighting the panic buyers.

Tools - weirdly a large percentage of scissors sold in the US are imported from China. Make sure you have a basic set of household tools. This is a list of 15 basics for handling a house. There's also the ready.gov list of what you need for an emergency kit. Also a basic sewing kit is a very good idea to have available.

Food-wise, again, while direct imports from China may not make a huge impact, if people begin to panic, you want to be prepared to deal with other people hoarding. If you have space and your electric bill can handle it, this is a good time to pick up a chest freezer. You can get a small one for under $200. You can buy the value sized bags of frozen stuff you like to eat (particularly important if you have food issues or if you've got kids who love their chicken nuggets). Grab extras of shelf-stable things like cereal, pasta, rice, and canned goods. If this feels paranoid, you don't have to go crazy, but buy at least some extras.

Get cash from your bank just in case. This is good practice in any circumstances, but don't assume your cards or your Apple Pay are going to work in an emergency. Hit the ATM, squirrel at least $100 away at home. Try to get small bills if you can, it's easier to carry some with you and leave the rest at home.

Lastly think through things you use daily, check where they come from, resupply or replace anything coming from China ASAP. Some folks already did this at the end of last year (durable goods purchases were up over 10% above average in December because people were worried about the tariff shit back then), but if you can afford it, get replacements or new supplies right now.

I sincerely hope 6 months from now this looks like panic and overreaction, but a lot of people smarter than me are giving this advice. It feels very much like February of 2020 again, where people watching the news closely could see something really bad on the horizon, but the majority had no idea. Better to be prepared.

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Out of Time

Pairing: Chenle x reader Description: You'd be lying if you said feelings weren't caught within the thirteen years of friendship you had with Chenle, but even when you both wanted to be more, you agreed to shut any idea of it down - his future marriage was already arranged as part of a business deal, there was no point setting your hearts up for breaking. So, why is he on your doorstep begging for a chance just three months before he has to go back to China?  Content warnings: Arranged marriage au but not with each other; rich kid Chenle; swearing; they have sex, and while no actual smut is written, it’s not exactly glossed over, either; fluff; angst; there is no happy ending to this part but I promise another part is coming Word count: 16,362 A/n: If you knew how long I’ve been working on this idea, you wouldn’t believe me…but now that this first part is out I’m actually really happy with how it’s come together. The second part should be out in no more than a few weeks (hopefully). Let me know if you want to be on a taglist for it. Posting this today to celebrate @fullsunstrawberry's last day of class for the semester!!…though this ends in angst so it’s not the best gift I’ve ever come up with 🫠 Anyways, please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. Take care of yourselves, I love you

Your childhood went by too fast. Though, you assume that’s the only way it could feel when it’s the sole marker of the time you were able to have with Chenle. The two of you grew up together, but through conversations you felt you were too young to be involved in, you both knew that you wouldn’t be able to continue with said friendship in adulthood. The thing about Chenle was, he’s lived with his aunt, right across the street from your parents, in a small Korean suburb since he was five years old. However, where he spent the first four years of his life, and where he would eventually be summoned back to, was with his parents in Shanghai. 

There was nothing wrong about his parents. In fact, for most of childhood, Chenle only had positive things to say about them, a wide smile adorning his face whenever he thought of seeing them again. The entire reason he was living with his aunt was because his parents wanted him to experience a normal childhood, so really, they had his best interest at heart. That being said, they did not care about whether or not Chenle would have a normal adulthood. Instead, they were waiting for him to fall in line, learn how to eventually take over their multimillion dollar company, and with that, play his part…and accept the fact that his future marriage, to the daughter of one of their business partners, has been arranged for him since the moment he was born. Finding this out, Chenle no longer had loads of nice things to say about his parents. He lived with a constant resentment towards them since the start of high school, but you were always his one beacon of comfort, where the weight of his future could fall off his shoulders and he could just be a kid again for a little while longer. 

It was the summer before freshman year of high school when your parents and his aunt sat the two of you down at the dinner table and explained how Chenle’s future was going to pan out. You were just fourteen years old, having Chenle suddenly upset and arguing about who he’d be marrying felt so wrong, the problem seemingly so far away. You were kids, but because of that moment, you both grew up too quickly - Chenle by force, and you because you refused to let him go through it alone. The real world, outside of school and pickup basketball games in someone’s driveway, now weighed heavily on the two of you, and the only thing you could promise was that you’d navigate as much of it as you could together. 

The one thing his parents agreed to compromise on was that, rather than having Chenle fly back immediately after high school graduation, he could stick through that last summer with you, and eventually head back to China when you left for university. That’s the exact period of time that the two of you were in now - almost a full three months where the plans that have been talked about for years were now facing you head on. Stupidly, you try to forget about it, pretend it was just some normal summer, like your best friend wasn’t being ripped away from you at the end of it. You were setting yourself up to be blindsided by the inevitable passage of time, but it was all you could think to do if you wanted to hold onto any chance at smiling this summer.

It was the day right after graduation when Chenle hopped across the street and rang your doorbell. It was the middle of the day, your parents still at work, so you had to be the one to slide off the couch and check who was at the door. Normally, Chenle would text you before he came over, and you would have the door already unlocked for his arrival so that he could just barge in and join you on the couch…or immediately grab your wrist, drag you through the kitchen for two glasses of lemonade, and then out the back door for another basketball match. The last thing you expected him to do was ring the doorbell out of nowhere, but more confusingly, when you open the front door to face him, he’s pacing back and forth. His mind seemed to be going a hundred miles a minute, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this distraught before. 

“Chenle?” You prompt, tilting your head at him still making circles in your front walkway. He snaps his head up and stops moving, seeming not to have heard you actually open the door yet and instead leaving him to get surprised by your voice. As he takes in your bewildered state, he does his best to calm himself, correctly assuming he was the reason for it. 

Now, his body faces you full-on, but he still can’t meet your eyes, instead looking towards the ground and sucking on his bottom lip as he figures out what he wants to say. Eventually, he gives up, shaking his head and bringing his gaze up to you with an agitated sigh. “Any way I put this, I come off as an asshole, so please forgive me,” he finally says all at once.

You furrow your brows at him in confusion, your return question bearing a much lighter tone than his own. “What’s up, Chenle?”

He darts his gaze off to the side, biting on his bottom lip again. Though, this contemplation period hardly lasted a second before he’s dropping his head and spitting out his words through one rushed exhale. “Can I be selfish for one summer? Before you go to college? Before I move back to my parents' house? I know we both agreed to be smart enough not to get involved…but before I have to be someone else’s, I want to be yours - even if it’s just for one summer.” 

To say you were thrown off was an understatement, but not necessarily because of his confession. It was no secret the two of you developed feelings for each other. Your parents knew it, his aunt knew it, you knew it, he knew it - there was no use in pretending said feelings didn’t exist. However, being sixteen with those feelings and knowing what you had since you were fourteen made the situation less than average. 

You and Chenle decided the best thing you could do was flesh everything out. So, one random day of sophomore year, you did. An entire evening kicking yourselves for catching feelings, laughing at the fact that it seemed inevitable, and then deciding that the best course of action now was to try and forget about it. You were not the daughter of his wealthy parents’ wealthy business partner, and the two of you quickly learned that there was no changing his parents’ minds on the arranged marriage. There was no reason to try and pretend an outcome could exist where the two of you could work, where you wouldn’t get hurt. It was both, a pro and a con of being forced to grow up - dumb decisions that your childhood was waiting for you to make were never made, and it was so hard to tell which dumb decisions you actually missed out on. 

Chenle was right, the two of you agreed to be smart enough to not get involved, but a part of you was mad that you never took the chance to be a stupid high school kid. It seemed entirely out of left field for Chenle to address the situation again just three months before the beginning of the rest of your lives kicked in, but you’re glad he did.

“One summer for us to make some stupid decisions and break our own hearts?” You echo back, and any trace of hope on Chenle’s face fades away. That is, until you look back at him with a smirk, leaning against your doorframe casually. “Yeah, what the hell. Let’s do it,” you say, and when Chenle whips his head back up to face you in surprise, you can’t stop your smirk from turning into a full smile.

Chenle shakes his head quickly, as though to get rid of all the thoughts on how to respond to a refusal that never came, and instead an easy smile reaches his own face as he looks back at you. “Great! So, can I take you on a date?” 

He’s completely serious as he replies and this is where you’re most taken aback. “Oh, starting off with a date?” You only had three months to be together, and to be quite honest, you thought Chenle was going to skip past all the initial dates and dive right in, knowing that you wouldn’t have given it a second thought if he immediately had you pinned against a wall. You seemed to have greatly underestimated the character of your best friend though, because he shoots back with a sure nod, genuinity filling his next words.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want this to just be a physical thing. I want to be able to say that you were my first love. You were always meant to have that title. I want to remember you that way, not as some no-strings-attached summer fling.” 

You immediately drop your head to face the floor. Chenle must have grown up some more when you weren’t looking. All at once, you don’t know what happened to the loser you grew up with, who learned to shut off his feelings and fill all that space with basketball instead; but now, here he stood, making his intentions very clear in that he planned to spend the summer falling in love with you, and outside of the shock you’ve felt throughout this entire conversation, a new feeling erupts in your stomach - butterflies. 

You look back up at him, regardless of how embarrassingly red you could tell your cheeks were, and a smile reaches your face as soon as the two of you lock eyes. “A date it is,” you say with a nod before stepping back into your house some more and actually letting him inside for a bit. “I’ll have to actually get out of my pajamas,” you say with a laugh. “Any idea of where you want to go?”

Chenle bites on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head. “Well, you know I can take you out on a really fancy date, and if that’s what you want, we can do that. I mean, that’s sure as hell what you deserve…but I was thinking maybe we could just go out to our favorite ice cream shop and then play some basketball.”

Your cheeks puff out in a smile. “So, you wanna hang out?” You tease, and Chenle is quick to shake his head.

“No! I wanna go on a date with you! I know we get ice cream and play basketball a lot, but now I want to do so while also knowing I can go up and kiss you whenever I want.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, now we’re kissing on the first date?” 

Chenle just stares at you in disinterest. “Three months, y/n. That’s all I get. I’m not exactly looking to take things super slow. Besides,” he continues, throwing a sly smirk your way as his own brows raise. “You’re the one who’s been wanting to kiss me for the past two years.”

Your mouth drops into a gape as you swat at him, only succeeding in making him laugh like a dolphin, and while you made fun of his laugh whenever you could, it was also your favorite thing in the world. A certain warmth fills your chest at the sound of it as you simply shake your head. “Whatever. You’ve been wanting to kiss me for the past two years as well. Don’t even pretend otherwise.” He’s still getting over his laughing fit as you finish your sentence, leaving you to just roll your eyes at him as you turn and walk upstairs to your room to change, the front door still hanging open for him to eventually follow you through.

When you come back downstairs after getting ready, Chenle looks you up and down with a smile. “I’ve always liked that skirt on you,” he says casually. You let out a light laugh.

“I know. You weren’t very secretive about it,” you reply playfully, causing a light dusting of pink to cover Chenle’s cheeks.

“Is dating you just going to be a nonstop period of you teasing me?” He finally asks in return. His words make you freeze, though. You only had three months but he was serious about it, serious about you, and you couldn’t help thinking about how great the hurt would be for both of you once it was over.

You shake out of it, you had to, and instead send a wink his way as you rush out the door without him. “I guess you’ll have to just wait and see,” you banter back, and Chenle rolls his eyes before following you out and doing your part in locking up behind him. 

While you were exchanging greetings with the worker on the other side of the ice cream parlor’s bar, Chenle was just continuously poking at your arm. “What?” You finally snap as you turn to him, though no one would ever be able to pick up even the slightest bit of irritation with his antics based off the smile on your face as you looked at him.

Chenle draws in a deep breath as a confidence booster before spitting out his words all at once. “I know we normally get our own milkshakes and finish them, but if you wanted to do that thing where we get one milkshake and put two straws in it, we could.” He was completely serious as he spoke, and you bite your lip to stop the wide smile from coming onto your face at his attempt to truly make this feel like a date. 

Instead of letting him know how cute he was, you resort back to messing with him. “Hmm…less ice cream for me, though,” you say, pretending to contemplate his offer.

“I can buy us another one after that!” He quickly responds, and you can see the typical energy begin to flow back through his body as he relaxes some more. “We can just keep ordering milkshakes to share! I mean, what’s a couple of $5 transactions on a black card?” He continues rambling but you break out into a laugh, immediately getting him to stop and stare at you in bewilderment because nothing he just said was a joke.

“Breaking out the black card for our first date?” You ask, looking over at Chenle as though you were something like impressed. He does not see what the big deal is.

“Of course, anything for you-” That’s where he breaks himself off, his head falling into his hands on the counter as he finally cracks. “God, I feel like a loser,” he groans, but a fond smile paints its way across your face in response.

“You’re not a loser,” you reply calmly, but Chenle shakes his head in his hands, his next words coming out covered in defeat.

“But my face is red and I’m saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s cute,” you reassure him gently, but he is quick to quip back.

“You’re cute.” The statement rolls off his tongue effortlessly and you jump back a little in your seat, eyes wide.

“Woah, lele. I didn’t know you could actually be sweet to me,” you say back, feigning astonishment. 

Chenle finally lifts his head up out of his hands to drag his troubled gaze over to you. “Do you see what I’m talking about? I’m a loser! I didn’t mean to say that,” he groans.

You just furrow your brows. “So, you don’t think I’m cute?” You ask playfully. Chenle squeezes his eyes shut, taking an extra long breath before peeking one eye open to look at you and practically whisper his response.

“Yes, I do.” 

An easy smile spreads across your face as you take in the fact that Chenle genuinely complimented you, though you were glad to see it pained him to admit it because that meant this was still your Chenle after all. You immediately turn your gaze back over to the worker, who pretended to be super invested in cleaning the counter as your conversation with Chenle drew out, and then you order just one milkshake with two straws. After, you move your gaze back over to your best friend.

“You can just be yourself, you know? I’ve liked you for years already, you don’t have to try and win me over now.”

Chenle sucks on his bottom lip, sighing. “I know but…you deserve to feel romanced and loved, and I want to do that, I just- it’s not my strong suit. My parents just bought me things and then shipped me overseas. A pretty weird love language if you ask me.” He ends with a small laugh, and you’re relieved to see the tension in his shoulders fall as he does. 

You shoot a fond smile his way in response. “I know, and that’s okay. Look, these three months for us to be together is just a change in the title of our relationship. There’s not much else that has to change. I won't hate you for struggling with how to express love. I know you like me, that’s enough.”

“Stop being so good at making me feel better,” he says with a weak grin. “I already feel like I’m not good enough for you.” 

You roll your eyes, placing one hand on top of his at the counter, getting him to meet your serious gaze. “Lele, you make me happy - that’s more than enough. Plus, you’re rich,” you add, and Chenle lets out his own laugh as he rips his hand away from under yours.

“Oh, whatever,” he replies with a scoff, but the atmosphere is instantly lighter as your laughter is only broken up by the milkshake being slid in between the two of you, immediately redirecting your attention to the shared directive of sucking that down as fast as you could. 

As Chenle got his card back after paying for all your rounds of milkshakes, he turned to you with a hopeful grin. “Do you wanna go back and play basketball in our street?” He asks, causing a similar smirk to spread across your own features.

“You know I do, but can you take it easy on me now that we’re dating?” You suggest playfully, though surprise was the last feeling that came to mind when Chenle’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“Absolutely not,” he replies quickly, causing you to sigh. “If anything, I gotta go harder on you now that we’re dating. I don’t date amateurs. You gotta keep up with me.” Your face falls into shock as you lightly hit the back of your hand against his forearm and the two of you break out into laughter again.

“Hey! Thirteen years of pickup basketball does not equate to me being an amateur. I’m a seasoned pro,” you try to say seriously. Chenle raises his eyebrows at you in a taunt.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that. What do you say, loser has to buy-” He cuts himself off from going over the terms of the bet as he turns his attention towards the countertop in disbelief. “I guess I just bought all our ice cream. What are we supposed to use as a bet now?” He speaks as though his hopes and dreams were ruined. You just shake your head fondly at him, sucking on your bottom lip to try and hold back a smile.

“Come on,” you say, moving to grab his hand in yours and pull him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s go before it gets dark.” 

Chenle shoots you a look as though you were crazy. “Y/n, it’s summer. We have like- at least five more hours before it gets dark.” 

You stop in your tracks, turning back to him with a smirk. “Well, my bad. I just wanted to spend as much time with my boyfriend as possible,” you reply, and Chenle ducks his head as blush covers his face. Though, with one gentle squeeze of your hand, he’s the one now pulling you out of the ice cream parlor and towards the car to go back home. 

As always, the two of you started off with a game of horse. It’s typically how you would decide who gets first possession, though you’ve stopped seeing a point to it because Chenle wins every time. At least, that’s how it normally goes. Today, standing in Chenle’s driveway, it was you who was crushing Chenle in horse. With you still at ‘h’ and Chenle just tacking on an ‘s,’ you let out a laugh. “I thought you weren’t taking it easy on me,” you taunt, and Chenle whips his head in your direction seriously. 

“I’m not!”

You raise your eyebrows at him as you move to take the ball from his hands and shoot your next shot. “Okay well then, whoever you are, can you go get Chenle back for me?” You ask, turning back to him after successfully making it. “I miss him. He’s your height, looks kinda like you, is good at basketball-” You tease, and Chenle cuts you off as he turns fire red, grabbing the basketball and readying himself to shoot from where you just did.

“I’m good at basketball!” He argues before taking his next shot…and missing. He turns around to meet your raised eyebrows and groans. “A game of horse doesn’t even matter! All it means is that you start off our actual game.” 

You shake your head at his antics as he picks up the basketball and passes it to you because somehow, you had first possession today. These ‘actual’ games were where you tended to perform better, but it was the same for Chenle of course, so you still typically only took one out of every twenty games from him. 

Though, it seemed Chenle’s poor performance in horse did nothing to actually warm him up, because his game performance was no better - possibly worse. You watched as the famed Lele Curry missed every shot he took, acting as though nothing happened every time he retrieved the ball for you. You wait until he misses an easy layup before finally shaking your head at him from the other side of the driveway. 

“Lele, come kiss me,” you say plainly, and Chenle immediately stops in his tracks as he turns towards you. 

“WHAT? Wh- wha- why?” He fumbles out through something of a shocked yell, getting you to just roll your eyes at him playfully. 

“Cause I have a feeling it’s gonna get you your basketball skills back,” you reply with raised eyebrows, greatly contrasting Chenle’s furrowed ones as he looks back at you in question.

“Huh?” He gets out, causing your shoulders to bounce up and down lightly with a small chuckle. 

You look up to face him fondly, the teasing lilt out of your tone. “Look, we’re dating now, we just talked about affection, it’s on your mind and messing with your game, so you should come kiss me and get it over with,” you state as though it were no big thing. It was a big thing to Chenle though, because he just learned you could read his mind. Of course he was thinking about kissing you, it was all he could think about - you were you, after all, and Chenle really really liked you. 

You watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with a hesitant swallow, but as he looks back up at you, the tension in his shoulders falls. He crosses the driveway to end up directly in front of you. Slowly, his right hand comes up to cup the side of your face, an action that you easily smile into, and Chenle takes a moment to run his thumb over your puffed out cheek as his nervous gaze runs over every inch of your face. “I don’t know how to kiss but- but I promise I’ll do it just right if you let me.”

“Chenle…”

“May I?” He asks quietly once his eyes finally fall to your lips.

You nod your head, caught off guard for a breathless moment at the recognition of this softer, shyer side of Chenle. You had kissed a few guys throughout high school, but you knew he hadn’t kissed anyone before. Once the two of you found out his marriage was arranged, he gave up completely on high school relationships or flings, and meanwhile you tried to kiss as many guys as possible in an attempt to get your mind off of it. None of them ever meant anything, but this one did, and Chenle knew it, too. He wanted to do everything right, but he didn’t even know what ‘right’ was, and any time he didn’t know what he was doing, he fell shyer, more hesitant, always so uncomfortable with unknowns that he tried to just slip away instead. He hardly let you see this side of him because he always wanted to present his best self; but he was soft with you now, because he cared enough about you to admit he was clueless - that the thought of kissing you made his head spin but it wasn’t even something he could truly picture. 

“You may,” you answer softly, and Chenle slowly leans into you. 

It started out as the lightest kiss in the world, a kind of gentleness almost uncharacteristic of your best friend if you didn’t know all his layers already. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, but you refuse to break so quickly; so instead, you pin your focus on deepening the kiss - pressing back into him, establishing a healthy rhythm sucking on his bottom lip. Chenle’s hand that wasn’t cupping your face soon flies to your waist as he begins to match your pace. As he got more comfortable with the feeling of his lips against yours, he got more desperate for it. You figure standing in the driveway of his house is not where you should teach him how to use his tongue, so with one last soft kiss, you break away.

Your gaze instantly falls to the ground beneath your feet, a cheesy grin across your face that you try to cover up. “See, now you’ve kissed me. Nothing else is going to be as scary as that,” you say playfully. “Now you’re good. You can kiss me whenever you want. Alternatively, you never have to kiss me again if that’s what you want-” You immediately cut off your words as you finally bring your gaze up to make eye contact with Chenle, only to realize he’s staring at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open. “What’s that look for?” You ask, suddenly worried you did something wrong.

Chenle shakes his head in an attempt to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing in hesitation as he looks you up and down. “Um, I like you…a lot. Like, a lot,” he says as though he were out of breath. The wide grin comes back to your face as you let out a fond laugh.

“Ha! That’s for another time,” you promise, instead bending down to pick the basketball up from the ground and place it in his hands. “Now turn around and shoot,” you continue, nodding your head towards the basket behind him. He does as asked, turning around and not even taking a moment to regain his footing before shooting and immediately making a nothing-but-net basket. You drop your face back to the pavement with a knowing nod. Then, you walk the one step back to meet him again and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “There’s my Chenle,” you claim softly, and watch as his ears turn a deep shade of red. 

Biting on his bottom lip, he shakes his head, unable to say anything in response. Instead, he moves to grab the basketball again, passing it to you since he just scored, and you know you’re about to get your ass kicked in pickup basketball. 

That was, in fact, exactly what happened. The only difference between this and the games that occurred before you started dating, is that now throughout the game, Chenle would sometimes turn around after making a basket and tell you a play that good deserved a kiss. You would roll your eyes every time but you always obliged - each soft, casual, ‘proud of you’ peck leaving Chenle with the biggest grin on his face.

Your pickup game finally ended when his aunt got back from work, forcing you both out of the driveway but more importantly, breaking the two of you apart from your quick kiss as you scramble into the grass. As she pulls into the garage and turns off the car, she steps out to meet you two still on the side of the driveway. “Well, something’s certainly changed in the time I’ve been at work, hasn’t it?” She says with a playful smirk. You and Chenle drop your heads in unison, but his aunt just lets out a warm laugh, nodding her head towards the door. “Come on, kids. I’ll make us dinner.” 

Matching smiles spread across your faces as you rush to follow her inside. As she started cooking, you and Chenle did whatever you could to help around the house where needed, but eventually you were told to just sit and rest a while as opposed to crowding the kitchen and making things more difficult. So, TV remote now in hand, you leaned into Chenle on the couch and he hooked both arms over you instantaneously.

Chenle’s arms around you, the smell of home-cooked dinner, and a basketball game on the TV, there was something so natural about it - as though Chenle’s arms have been around you your entire life, as though you’d have them around you, to come home to, for the rest of time. You knew the idea of it would never be true in the long run, but right now it was as real as it could get - and the second you could convince yourself to simply exist in the present, that fact was enough to make everything okay. You’re sure Chenle could feel it, because at the very same time that peace crashed over your body, Chenle squeezed you slightly tighter to him, placing a small kiss to the top of your head before resuming his task of acting super nonchalant about having you in his arms. 

The two of you explained everything to his aunt over dinner, and any disheartening thought she may have had about the situation, she kept to herself. You all had collectively gone through that song and dance all those years prior when the news of Chenle’s arranged marriage first broke. She knew you didn’t need to hear that speech again. Instead, she smiled warmly, claiming that if any two people deserved to be happy together, even for just a little while, it was you guys. 

You excused yourself after dinner, figuring it was probably time for you to head home since you haven’t seen your parents all day. Chenle immediately stood from the table with you, gently lacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the door. “I’ll walk you home,” he says casually, but you just shake your head at him.

“Lele, I live right across the street. It doesn’t even take twenty seconds for me to get home,” you reply playfully. Chenle just squeezes your hand in his slightly tighter, and when he speaks again, it’s much more somber in tone.

“Three months, y/n. I’ll take a few more seconds anywhere I can get them,” he states quietly, and his words seem to have hollowed you out so that all you can do is nod your head. Chenle smiles at your acceptance before getting hit with another thought and immediately pausing. “Oh, wait!” He exclaims as you take the first step out his front door.

You turn back around to face him in question, watching as he runs through the house before coming back into view with a hoodie in his arms. “For you,” he says with a bright smile as he holds out the hoodie for you to take. You just raise your brows at him with a smirk.

“Chenle, it’s summer. What am I gonna need a hoodie for?” You ask playfully in return, though your traces of banter didn’t reach Chenle, and instead every feature on his face falls into a pout. You let out a fond laugh at the sight of it, moving towards him to take the hoodie from his arms with a light kiss on his cheek. You immediately slip it over your head, and the sheer comfort of it answered your question of what you were gonna do with a hoodie in the summer - wear it any chance you got. You look back at Chenle, who was stuck staring at you in his hoodie as though you were a goddess. You just pray your face doesn’t show too flustered in the moonlight and grab his hand to actually start on the walk across the street.

As you get to your front door, Chenle tightens his grip on your hand to pull you back some more, now just standing idly on your front porch. You study his figure curiously, watching as he tosses around thoughts in his head so loud you could almost hear them. His gaze eventually falls to the ground but he finally finds his voice.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be great at ever telling you how I feel. It’s hard for me to articulate anything even closely related to feelings. There’s so much in my head but I don’t know how to tell you everything…how much you mean to me. But if today taught me anything, I’m much more comfortable with showing you how I feel. That doesn’t seem as foreign to me for some reason. I can show you how I feel - I want to. I hope it gets across, though. I hope you know every time we kiss…” He drags off, and his eyebrows immediately furrow in irritation that this was just another example of him struggling to put his feelings into words.

You give a fond shake of your head as you stare back at him. “Chenle,” you let out softly, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, still intertwined with yours. 

He finally looks back up at you with resolve. “What I’m trying to say is that if one day, you get fed up with all my emotions being expressed physically rather than verbally, I can stop. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t have to kiss you all the time. I can try- I can try to…I can-” This time, he’s cut off by your lips on his, and he melts right into the kiss.

When you finally pull back, you place a hand on his cheek, nodding your head lightly. “It gets across, lele. Everything you’re feeling, it gets across. It’s never gonna be too much; we have a lot of time to make up for, I know. So, whenever you want to kiss me, I want to kiss you.”

In return, Chenle gives the most bashful smile you’ve ever seen. He moves a hand up to guide your own back down from his cheek before studying the way your two hands fit with each other so naturally. All hands were meant to be interlaced with another, he thought, but his were specifically made for yours. You look at his soft features with a grin, squeezing his hand gently in yours and getting him to train his eyes back on you in a rush. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says surely, causing you to laugh some before nodding your head. 

“See you tomorrow,” you softly return as he takes the first few steps back towards his house. You stand and watch until he finally reaches his own front door; turning back around to see you still outside, he gives an exaggerated wave in your direction, and you didn’t need to see the huge smile on his face to know it was there. You move your hand up slightly to wave back to him, hoping the yellow street light wasn’t enough to illuminate the clarity that had immediately washed over you as you clocked that you only had three months left of his exaggerated waves and huge smiles - the butterflies that had occupied your stomach all day were no match for the void that made its presence known now. A heavy breath escapes you as he finally turns the knob and enters his house, leaving you with nothing left to do but the same.

As soon as you opened the door, the change in atmosphere was striking. The warmth of your parents’ laughter filled the kitchen as they were cleaning up from their own dinner, your dog entirely too wound up as he jumped around waiting for teased scraps from your father’s plate. The pit in your stomach didn’t go away, but instead became more pronounced as another strange feeling added to it. Your parents had much longer than three months to be together; you wondered if they could fathom it - if they could ever wrap their heads around the amount of love shared between the two of them throughout all these years. You wondered if you would ever be able to wrap your head around the idea of loving someone that many years, knowing it wouldn’t be Chenle on the receiving end of it. You hated remembering why the two of you originally promised not to get involved with each other - you hated that those reasons made more sense than ever.

You didn’t realize the door practically slammed shut behind you until the rest of the house fell quiet in response. Your mom makes eye contact with you in the front entryway before smiling brightly and returning to the dishes. “Hey, sweetie! Were you over at Chenle’s?”

Her question is coated with a smile and all you can do is start rambling to try and fight off the nauseous feeling that arose in response. “Guys, I made a really stupid decision and I know it’s stupid so I don’t need you to tell me again and I really don’t need you to be pessimistic about it because it won’t help.” You speed through your words in an instant and the look on your parents’ faces completely flip as they drop what they’re doing to go meet you still by the front door.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your dad asks in a panic, and you figure the vagueness of your statement meant they were currently assuming a lot worse than it was. You shake your head, but it doesn’t do much to dismiss their worry until you follow it up with words.

“Chenle asked me to be his girlfriend,” you spit out, and the tension in their shoulders drops at once.

“And you said ‘yes,’” your mom softly finishes in your place. You shoot your gaze up to her, bringing their notice to the tears in your eyes as you respond weakly.

“I couldn’t say ‘no.’”

Your mom lets out a fond sigh, nodding her head as she throws an understanding smile in your direction. “I know,” she replies, coming up to wrap you in a hug where you finally let yourself bawl your eyes out.

“We only have three months to be together but- but we wanted to be together,” you explain as firmly as you could through tears. “And we should’ve just pressed on these three months like we have our whole lives, I know it’s stupid-”

“Y/n, it’s not stupid,” your mom cuts in seriously. You lean slightly out of the hug to make shaky eye contact with her, then darting your gaze off to meet the encouraging look your dad bore and only getting more confused. You pull back from the hug entirely, now doing your best to collect yourself again so you could have a real conversation.  

“I’m gonna be really hurt three months from now, and it’s not Chenle’s fault, it’s mine-” You could only be mad at yourself for so long before your mom cuts you off again. 

“It’s not your fault. Sometimes, what makes a decision seem stupid is that there’s no one to blame for its consequences. It’s not gonna be your fault, nor Chenle’s…and it’s weird when you don’t have someone to blame.” Your mom was always the voice of reason, but you figure this time she was taking the same approach that Chenle’s aunt did. The inevitability of you and Chenle was the least of her worries. Her main goal was to keep you from jumping off the ledge before you could even enjoy it. 

“I think Chenle blames his parents,” you rebuttal thoughtfully, and your dad just lets out a laugh before he responds more sincerely.

“Yes, but I think he hates his parents enough for the all of us, so we shouldn’t add to it.” Chenle’s disdain for his parents was more than evident, and your own parents never had the nicest things to say about them either - even though they kept their thoughts to themselves, you knew it. There wasn’t a single person in the suburb who understood where Chenle’s parents were coming from; with the quality of life being so starkly different, you figure no one ever would. The sucky thing was, you knew Chenle’s parents were thinking the same thing about you all, and it’s why everyone but Chenle has kept their opinion to themselves - it wasn’t worth it to do otherwise, an understanding could never be made between two different worlds. 

You take in his words with a flash of your eyebrows but eventually let out a heavy sigh. “...he shouldn’t hate his parents,” you admit solemnly, thinking of your own family and wondering how heartbreaking it would be for both sides if you viewed them the way Chenle views his.

Your father ducks his head, his thoughts running parallel to yours. “No, but that’s not for us to worry about. I’m just glad you don’t hate yours,” he says with a smile, and you finally move your gaze back up towards your parents, three pairs of uncertain eyes exchanging thousands of emotions between them.

“Is everything gonna be okay?” You finally ask, your voice much weaker than you would have liked. Your mom shakes her head in mystery, a thin-lipped smile giving its best attempt at comfort.

“I don’t know, but was today okay?” She asks in return.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, but then your face turns more contemplative and you shake your head. “No- it was so much better than ‘okay’ you wouldn’t even understand.” Your words come out coated in fondness. You figured it was the first step towards realizing how bittersweet these next three months with Chenle were going to be, how nostalgic you would soon feel for memories you were in the middle of making. 

Your mom’s smile widens at your words as she moves to brush over your cheek with her hand, ensuring the two of you make eye contact as she gives the only advice she thinks she can at this point. “Then let’s try not to worry about if everything’s gonna be okay in the future, and focus on the fact that everything is so much better than okay right now,” she says softly, leaving you nodding your head against her hold. It eventually falls into a tight hug before you get embarrassed and excuse yourself to make your way to your room for the night. 

It was a few hours later when your parents walked in to say goodnight. Your dad went first and then waited at the doorway as your mom took her moment to kiss the top of your head and bid you goodnight. Before she could take a full step away, though, you caught her hand in yours. Her face whipped back around to meet your soft, wavering gaze. “He kissed me today.” Your tone made it sound as though you had a million thoughts in your mind, but it was clear not even one would manifest itself into more words right away. Your parents both give a warm grin, and as your dad leaves from your doorframe to let the two of you have a moment, your mom joins you sitting on top of your bed.

“Yeah?” She encourages softly. All you can do is nod before frustration reaches the surface and you end up shaking your head decidedly.

“Mom, I don’t want to kiss another guy ever again,” you say, looking up to make sincere eye contact with her. “I want it to always be Chenle,” you continue firmly, and your mom just lets out a defeated sigh.

“For three months, it will be,” she says with a weak smile, trying her best to bring any sense of hope to the situation. 

You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, both coming to terms with the situation and not being able to believe it all at once. “And that has to be enough. How do I make that be enough?” You ask helplessly, the sight of you torn up like this chipping away at your mom’s heart.

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out,” she replies, and you figure that’s all anyone would be able to say to that. These are your circumstances, and regardless of if it feels unfair, all you can do is the best you can do; spending these three months trying to resolve a grief that hasn’t even hit you yet was definitely not your best course of action. With the smallest of laughs that still comes across as jarring in the fragile moment, your mom speaks up again. “I would say you could kiss him like every time will be the last, but I can’t have you sucking his face off…his parents would not be thrilled about that,” she teases, and you’re finally able to crack a smile as well.

With one last kiss to the top of your head, your mom gets up and heads towards your door again. “Remember,” she says, turning back over her shoulder to look at you. “Today was really really good. Tomorrow will be, too; and the day after that…and the day after that. So, no stress for at least the next three days, okay?” 

Your smile widens on your lips at the silly promise, but it did its job in removing what felt like the entire weight of the world from your shoulders. “Okay.” Then, with one last smile, your mom was out the door.

The next week was spent with you and Chenle not seeing more than an hour of separation from each other unless you were sleeping. Though you couldn’t say this for anyone else you hang out with, you never got tired of Chenle, never oversaturated from his energy; so, spending all this time together was hardly a task - it was just how you were meant to be. You think Chenle held the secret to it all along, the reason you never got tired of each other - though you doubted he was even aware of it, every time he looked your way, it seemed to be with a fresh set of eyes, like it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on you. You could see it in the glaze of softness that took over his stare for a millisecond. How could you ever tire of each other when every glance gave the illusion of no time having passed at all. The only problem you could anticipate is how shocking it would be when these three months were up, if each passing day still consisted of the butterflies from the first.

It was at the end of this first week when your mom lingered in your room while saying goodnight to you again. You eyed her curiously as she sat down on your bed rather than the typical lean-over to kiss the top of your head. She gives a small laugh as she meets your gaze, then starts her words with a light sigh.

“Y/n, your dad and I have been talking,” she begins, and the color drains from your face.

“Uh oh,” you reply, unsure of whatever it is they came up with but knowing it typically never boded well for you.

At this, she laughs again, shaking her head with a grin. “No, it’s nothing bad. It’s just-” she breaks off, looking as though she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, and once you heard her words, you understood the look on her face completely. “We know how this is gonna go. You guys are eighteen year olds who like each other a lot, the situation only made more dire because there’s a strict end date. We figure you’re gonna want each other as your first time, right? So, just please be safe about it, okay?” She moves to make eye contact with you again, seemingly proud with how she articulated everything, meaning she’s completely surprised to see your jaw dropped.

“Wait, what?!” The volume of your voice jars even you, but you could not believe her words. “Are you telling me you and dad came to the decision that Chenle and I could have sex?! Me?” You question, pointing up at yourself as though your mom didn’t know who she was addressing. “Your daughter? Permission to have sex with Chenle?” At your crazed tone, your mom just lets out another small laugh and a shrug, morphing the atmosphere into something much more chill than you could imagine.

“I mean, you’re eighteen,” she replies nonchalantly, only getting you to gawk at her some more.

“I’m like- still a kid to you guys!” You shoot back, remembering how many times the idea of that played into their many rules for you - curfew during high school is 10:00 but hey, that first summer once you’ve graduated, go crazy, it seems!

Your mom tosses the concept of you being a kid around in her head before returning her gaze to you with a slight smirk teasing at her features. “Eh, I lost mine at, uh- well...younger than you, so eighteen’s honestly looking pretty good.”

“What?!” You exclaim again, this piece of lore about your mom baffling you more than anything else you’ve heard tonight.

You watch as she winces, reliving the truth of what she just said, but her eyebrows eventually raise as she turns to you with a cheeky grin to contrast her serious gaze. “Yeah, don’t tell your father about that one. I’m pretty sure he thinks I lost it at nineteen…” She drags off, and you let out your first laugh of the night.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, and your mom’s smile meets your own as she shakes her head and continues with her actual point.

“Look, some people see being eighteen and an ‘adult’ as a reason to never need their parents’ permission for anything ever again. So, I’m glad that you still want our approval for certain things but, here it is. Just be safe and we’re good,” she says casually, and you just drop your head with a laugh of disbelief.

“Okay-” you begin with a nod, but your words are cut off as your mom seems to light up with another thought.

“Oh! Just please do all that when we aren’t home. Your father and I do not need to-” She cuts herself off abruptly but continues to open and close her mouth as if searching for words to describe exactly what her and your dad don’t need to be around to hear, but you just nod your head with another laugh.

“Okay, okay, I got it. Don’t worry,” you conclude, finally motioning for her to let it go and actually bid you goodnight. With a laugh, she relents, walking out of your room and leaving you completely bewildered…and with news to tell Chenle when you see him tomorrow.

However, when you did see Chenle the next day, the conversation with your mom was the last thing on your mind because your little romantic surprised you with a date to the zoo, saying that you had to go right away before it gets too hot and all the animals hide in the shade of their habitats.

The first hour of the zoo experience was completely normal - snow cones that turned your hands into a sticky mess, which Chenle refused to let you wash off right away because he kept sticking your hands together and pulling them apart again with the biggest smile on his face; and then walking around the entire place actually holding hands, splitting your conversation between genuine facts about the animals and trying to see who could get the other to believe the craziest lie they could come up with at the time.

It was when you were at the prairie dog habitat that things took a turn. You and Chenle were reading the fact sheet when you heard the little girl next to you ask her mom what was happening with the animals. You whip your head back up to see the prairie dogs in a compromising position and immediately hit Chenle on the shoulder to get him to whip his head up as well. The two of you try your best to hold in laughter as the parents with younger children rushed to find another animal habitat to keep their child entertained with. That was when memories of last night came flooding back to you and you turn to face Chenle in an instant.

“Oh, hey! You know my parents said they’re chill with us having sex,” you say quietly enough so that just Chenle could pick up on your words. Expecting a reaction similar to yours when first hearing the news, you were stunned to see that when Chenle turned his head over towards you, his face was completely flat aside from his raised brows.

“So, what are ya thinking? You wanna drop down right here and do it?” He asks neutrally, beginning to eye the floor before scrunching his nose and looking around for a better spot.

“Chenle!” You gawk, and all it takes is one look at your exasperated face before he finally falls into a bout of laughter.

“I’m kidding, princess. God, who do you take me for?” He jokes with a disappointed shake of his head. Though, as you calm down with your own dramatic eye roll, he slips his hand into yours again, bringing them up to kiss the back of yours before dragging you off towards another habitat. 

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked around the rest of the zoo before heading out for a casual dinner. It wasn’t until Chenle was dropping you off at your front door that, in an effort to keep you in front of him a little longer, he remembered the topic he probably shouldn’t have just dismissed earlier in the day. “Oh, hey, before you go,” he starts, and you instantly remove your hand from the door knob to turn back around towards him. He makes serious eye contact with you as he continues. “About what you said at the zoo-” 

You raise your brows with a grin but he shakes his head as soon as he spots your smile. “Not the part about all elephants being recognized as ordained ministers,” he clarifies, and you can’t help the small laugh as you remember your attempts at animal facts today. “But about us,” he continues seriously. “If I want anyone to be my first, it’s you, but I don’t wanna rush into it just because we’ve been told we can. I mean- I just got used to being able to kiss you and hold your hand-”

“And call me princess,” you add with a smirk, not letting him get away with the new pet name that easily. Chenle drops his head bashfully.

“Yeah, and call you princess…” he echos, falling more thoughtful with each word. “And I wanna be able to relish that a bit more before- well.” He shakes his head, getting frustrated at how poorly he was able to articulate everything on his mind. “I wanna be able to be there,” he finally says with resolve, looking back up to make eye contact with you again before continuing. “Be present…and if I still can’t fathom the fact that I get to kiss you right now, I don’t want to try and wrap my head around even more,” he finally concludes with something of an embarrassed laugh to try and lighten the atmosphere that only he thought needed lightening. You just smile sweetly back at him. 

“I get it, lele. Hey, I wasn’t the one suggesting we drop to the floor and do it in front of the prairie dog habitat,” you remind him, causing him to face the ground again as he lets out an actual laugh at his own past actions. When you pick your words back up, it’s with sincerity. “If one of us isn’t ready, then nothing’s happening. I’m good to take it slow. We wanted to do this right, yeah?”

Chenle nods his head as he lets out a sigh of relief, as though he expected the two of you to not be on the same page for the first time in thirteen years. Though, when he looks back up at you, it’s with a firm smile. “Yeah.”

You shake your head at it all, your smile alone revealing how endearing you found him despite your best efforts to keep it hidden. You press up on your tip-toes and lightly kiss the top of his nose before moving down to catch his lips easily with yours. “Goodnight, Chenle,” you say once you finally pull back. Chenle’s face is as red as ever, and you knew he wasn’t kidding when he said he still can’t fathom the fact that he gets to kiss you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he replies in kind, getting your own face to flush as he turns to walk the few steps across the street to his house.

A few more dates and countless pickup basketball games later, and it was already the one month anniversary of the day Chenle paced around your front porch and begged you to forget about what’s happening in just two months now. Knowing Chenle, and how much he loved spending his parents’ money while he wasn’t under their rule, you were half expecting him to greet you today in a suit and take you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find. Instead, Chenle barged in through your front door that afternoon with something much less proper on his mind. “Y/n, it’s been a month,” he points out, and you turn your head to face him from where you sat on the couch.

“Yeah?” You acknowledged, waiting to see where he was going with this.

“I think we should have sex,” he states plainly, and you throw your head back with a laugh before you can even think about it.

“Just like that, huh?” You tease, looking over at him once again with a huge grin, not at all as serious about this proposal as he was.

He puts his hands out awkwardly, as if making sure you stayed put and would hear him out. “Look, I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the subject-” he begins, and you cut him off with another laugh of disbelief.

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” you joke, finally up on your feet and rounding the couch so you could stand face-to-face with him.

He shakes his head in the meantime, a look of annoyance on his face, all overwritten by a huge grin because it was you he was annoyed at. “Shut up,” he quipped with his own small laugh before continuing with as much seriousness as he could. “What I’m saying is, I think I could make it the best day of your life.”

Your eyebrows shoot up immediately, and it’s hard to keep the tease in your voice when the rest of your face betrays you with a huge smile. “Oh, yeah? Well, I’m sure with all your nerdy research, you’re practically a pro by now.” Chenle opens his mouth to bark out some confirmative response, or more likely beg you to stop with the teasing. Though, before he can do any of that, you just shake your head, grabbing his hand in yours and, with the knowledge that both of your parents were still at work for the next few hours, easily guiding him to your bedroom without a second thought. “Come on, big head.”

Chenle smiled brightly at the back of your head as he followed you up the stairs. “I’m so lucky,” he responds, the sarcasm not doing any good at covering up how much he genuinely meant that statement…if only Chenle knew how lucky he made you feel. 

Ever since then, it became clear that sex with you was going to consistently stay at the forefront of Chenle’s mind. He was absolutely obsessed with the opportunity to know you more than he already did after the first thirteen years of memorizing you as his best friend. Each curve of your body was something sacred for him, and he took every chance he could get to indulge in it some more. Two weeks after your first time, Chenle met you at your front door with the same gleam in his eyes as ever. 

“Hey, baby,” you say, leaning in to quickly kiss him before moving back so he could actually step inside your house. “What do you wanna do today?”

“Sex!” He immediately answers, his tone as though he were a kid asking for candy. You drop your head with a small laugh.

“Not today, lele,” you reply, and Chenle’s brows shoot up in question, though the playfulness is still coating his every move.

“Was my approach wrong? Let’s go from the top, I’ll make my words more sophisticated,” he jokes with a smirk.

You finally give a solemn shake of your head. “No, Chenle.”

His demeanor immediately shifts as he falls into concern. “Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, placing his hand softly on your cheek so he can guide your eyes back to his own. You meet his worried eyes and immediately dart your gaze away again, laughing softly in embarrassment. 

“Nothing. I just started my period today,” you explain, and Chenle immediately lets out a sigh of relief as you watch understanding wash over his figure. You pick up at the end of his sigh and continue with your answer. “My cramps are always the worst on day one.”

Once sure you weren’t breaking up with him nor banning him from ever fucking you again, he easily slips back into his usual manner with you; in this case, instantly getting on your ass. “Why didn’t you tell me?! I would’ve brought over your favorite snacks and your microwavable stuffed animal you always keep at my place and-”

You cut him off, shaking your head with a small smile. “I don’t need all that, though. I just wanna be with you.”

Chenle renders completely still for a moment. For a man who seemed to struggle with words, yours always ended up hitting him right on. He moves to instead wrap you in a tight hug, a contrasting gentle kiss placed on the top of your head as he just held you there for a moment. He finally moves to instead kiss your cheek and pull back a bit. “Movie night, then?” He suggests lightly.

You flash a soft grin in his direction, eyebrows raising as you stare back at him. “Will you hold me the whole time?” You ask seriously in return. Chenle rolls his lips inwards to hide his smile, though he can’t hide the light dusting of pink now covering his cheeks and tips of his ears. 

“Is that even a question?” His banter back is ruined by the sheer softness of it. Your grin widens as you grab his hand and lead him towards the couch in the living room. You lean into him easily and he doesn’t think twice before pulling you even closer, holding you even tighter, as your favorite movie begins playing in front of you. “We’re watching the Steph Curry documentary after this, just so you know,” Chenle suddenly speaks up, a faint laugh in his tone - a strange vocalic considering he was completely serious, but you realize it’s his attempt to be softer with you right now, figuring you had it bad enough with your cramps that you didn’t need his bluntness on top of it. 

“I’m pretty sure we can both quote the entire documentary by now,” you banter back with a disinterested groan. Chenle looks over at you by his side with a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Exactly! Which means we have to watch it one more time to really make sure.”

You roll your eyes at him but relent without another word; you still had an hour and a half of the first movie anyways. 

It was a little over two hours later when your parents got home from work to find the two of you seemingly in conversation, only to realize the movie in front of you had no sound and it was just you and Chenle switching back and forth quoting each line - neither of you cutting the other a break should there be a moment of hesitation…so half of the script was recounted in between laughs and over the other’s teasing. Needless to say, once the Curry documentary started, there had been significantly less cuddles than before, but your cramps, however painful they may have been, were the last thing on your mind. It was only when you sat down for dinner that reality came flooding back over you, suddenly making it hard to sit down again. Trying not to focus on the pain, you instead thought about how pain-free the past few hours have been. You hated that Chenle knew what would work so well…you hated that he wouldn’t always be here to make it work again. 

After dinner, your parents made their way out back to enjoy the firepit and calm night. You and Chenle found yourselves back on the couch, this time old cartoons you used to watch during childhood taking up space on the TV rather than movies. You cuddled into him easily, and he did his best to love on you enough to make the pain go away again.

When your parents finally came back inside, the TV was still running but you and Chenle were asleep against each other, his arms wrapped around you protectively as the two of you shifted so that you were laying down on top of his figure rather than just leaning against his shoulder. Your parents just let out light sighs, sad smiles covering their faces as your dad turned off the TV and your mom laid a blanket over the two of you before texting Chenle’s aunt and letting her know that Chenle wouldn’t be making his way back across the street tonight. They weren’t sure if they were feeding the beast by letting the two of you spend the night together, but it was too hard on their hearts to impose a future reality when you guys were so at home living in the present. 

The morning sun eventually made its way through the windows to disrupt the darkness of your unconscious state. Still refusing to open your eyes, you just turn your head so that you're facing away from the window. Though, that’s when a hand lightly trails through your hair to move it away from your face, and you realize you’re still against Chenle’s chest. At once, you blink awake, and when you move your gaze to look at Chenle, you can hear the snap of silence as his breath gets caught in his throat. He shakes out of it with a smile, once again running his fingers through your hair as he begins to speak softly. “God, I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”

Your face goes fire red and you immediately rush to bury it back in his chest. “Shut up,” you chide. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because I need you to know that,” he responds in sincerity, kissing the top of your head since your face was still hidden. “I’ll always want it to be you.” His soft confession served to be one of the most reassuring and sweetest things you’ve ever heard, and you knew he meant it wholeheartedly. However, while warmth took over 98% of your body, there was the other 2% overcome with a certain uneasiness. With Chenle claiming that he would always want it to be you he wakes up next to, it was the first time you felt a sense of pity for the girl on the other end of this arranged marriage with Chenle, because while you could never be her, she would never be you.

You push the thought to the back of your mind, sure anyone around you would call you crazy for feeling pity for his future wife. Instead, you pick your head back up and press a light kiss to his lips, and just like that, 75% of the rest of summer nights and early mornings saw you and Chenle asleep against each other. 

All too soon, Chenle was accompanying your family as you moved into your college dorm. There was a week left before the first day of classes, and in between now and then, Chenle would have his fateful flight back to Shanghai. You had spent the past few nights crying yourself to sleep - well, if it wasn’t a night you and Chenle were spending together. All you wanted to do was be strong for him, your mind a constant loop of how sorry he looked as he asked to be selfish for the summer and indulge in his feelings. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually feel bad about it, to know how painful it truly was for you, when you knew he was going through the same thing himself. You didn’t need to add to the heavy weight on his shoulders imposed by almost every other figure in his life. So, you kept your tears to yourself. It wasn’t that hard anyways, being in Chenle’s presence meant a constant smile was on your face without ever having to think about it. 

Once all your things were put away and you could pass as ‘moved in,’ you stood opposite your parents in the doorway to your dorm as Chenle used the bathroom. With a few words and quite a bit more unspoken ones, your parents made themselves conscious of the time on their watch and then bid you goodbye for a bit. 

When Chenle came back out from the bathroom, he looked around for your parents, but his shoulders instantly fell once he failed to lay eyes on them. Instead, he turned to you in complete seriousness, pointing a thumb out to the side towards where your bed was as he looked at you with raised brows. “Can I be the first to fuck you on your dorm bed?” He asks plainly, and despite yourself, a loud laugh erupts from your chest.

“Chenle!” You chide, and the familiar big grin makes its way back across his lips.

“What? Isn’t that a thing?” He laughs off in question as though nothing were amiss. He quickly shakes his head, regaining his serious composure as he begins in his attempts at convincing you. “Regardless, I won’t get to experience it for myself so you should take pity on me. And I want this bed to be able to know me before any other college boy toy,” he states plainly, making you drop your head to hide the smile conjured up by his words.

“So glad you think that after you go back to China, I’ll resort to boy toys,” you shoot back monotonously. Chenle finally fumbles as he rushes to steer your mindset in a different direction.

“Okay, it came out wrong. That’s not what I meant,” he assures, but you stare back at him with raised, uninterested brows.

“Yes it was,” you reply immediately, but with the smallest peek of a smile from you, Chenle loses his tension again, ducking his head into his shoulders with a dumb laugh.

“I know.”

You shake your head at him to accompany the eye roll. “I hate you,” you say through a laugh, much to your dismay because you could not sell the bit to save your life. Chenle knew it, too, as he pops back up to look in your eyes with nothing but a tease behind his own. 

“So, that’s a no to fucking on your dorm bed?” He questions, making it seem as though that were your least desired possibility rather than his own. His mind games didn’t need to work, though, as you shake your head with a fond smile this time, taking a step towards him to kiss his lips softly.

“I already told my parents to explore the campus,” you admit, and Chenle’s kissed lips turn into a childish grin that he had to calm down from before he could even think about kissing you again. 

“Hmm…I think I like my bed better,” Chenle finally says, tossing your shirt back over to you as you both now sit up in your bed. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at his words.

“Well, I would hope so,” you tease. “Yours is a King as opposed to this Twin.”

Chenle shakes his head, dismissing your banter as he responds with more contemplation than the situation called for. “No, I mean, the bigger bed is nice but I don’t think that’s it. I think this one is just a little too squeaky,” he concludes with resolve. All you can do is laugh, leaning over to place a fond kiss on his cheek.

“You had high standards for plastic-covered springs,” you joke as you pull back. Chenle looks over at you with raised brows.

“I have high standards in general. That’s why I like you,” he responds, and instead of letting yourself get embarrassed by how flustered that statement was about to make you, you nudge him in the side with a roll of your eyes. 

“Whatever. We both know I was too low maintenance for you to originally fathom,” you reply, and Chenle finally lets a huge smile break across his face.

“We were kids in a suburb and I came from money…there was a lot I couldn’t fathom,” he recounts seriously. You move your head to look over at him by your side, a soft smile on your lips as the playfulness behind your eyes begins fading to match it. 

“I’m glad you finally came around,” you start with sincerity. “The suburb will be sad to see you go.” 

Chenle lets out a heavy breath at your words, the weight of reality seeming to hit you both at the same time. He finally nods his head a little, not in agreement but something like contemplation. “Speaking of, I guess we should get back to it. Now that we moved you in, we have to move me out.” The words are bitter on his tongue. The two of you did an immensely good job at sticking to the present throughout this past summer, but now that the present involved the first steps of the dreaded future, it was hard to stay lighthearted. You did your best, though, responding with a faint laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure my parents have just about exhausted every way they can keep themselves busy anyways,” you point out playfully, and Chenle finally seems to remember he’s still sitting shirtless in your bed. He looks over at you, realizing he’s the only one to have fallen behind on getting dressed again, and with a matching laugh, he begins to remedy that.

“I can’t believe how chill your parents are,” he replies with a bit of awe as he pulls his t-shirt over his body. 

You shake your head at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “They’re not, they just like you.” Your reply is more serious again and Chenle swings his gaze your way with raised brows. You pull up your own to match, and a small smile plays on your lips as you continue. “If it was anyone else, they would’ve had me by the throat.”

Chenle takes in your cautious figure and furrows his brows, not at all seeing the consequences in the same light you were. “You like that, though,” he replies, nudging you in the side and getting the both of you to laugh. You shake your head, dropping it to cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. 

“Sometimes, I wish you had a filter,” you banter back, but when you uncover your face again to look over at Chenle, his demeanor had completely shifted, as though your laugh had reminded him that he didn’t know how many more times he would be able to hear it. 

“I’m sorry for having to leave,” he says miserably. “Your family has been so nice to me, all throughout childhood and now trusting me with you…” He drags off, his gaze moving across the bed beneath him and over to you, hair messy and lips slightly swollen from his kisses. He shakes his head. “Like this, and I’m just up and leaving.” You can tell he’s getting pissed at himself with every new word, but he doesn’t give you time to jump in right away. “I put you in a position where I knew you’d get hurt. I feel like an asshole.”

Gently, you bring both of your hands to cover over his own against his lap, and he turns his gaze your way at the contact, allowing you to see him physically break from his reverie and instead soften in your presence. “Chenle, you aren’t an asshole,” you reassure. “I knew what I was signing up for at the beginning of summer, and I told my parents exactly how this was going to go, too. No one blames you for having familial obligations. Not me and not my parents. They aren’t mad that you’re the reason my heart is gonna break in a few days, they’re just really really grateful you’ve been the reason behind the happiest three months of my life.” Your words carry enough weight, it was obvious that that’s truly how you viewed the situation. If possible, Chenle felt worse. He was the bad guy here, and you were reframing it for his benefit. He never felt like he deserved you, and had no clue how you managed to think otherwise for the past three months. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. You whip your head towards his face once you hear his shattered tone, and your lips part in disbelief. You always figured Chenle would be the strong one, but today’s proved to you that’s not the case. 

“Hey,” you start, rubbing a thumb beneath his eyes before his tears could fully roll down his cheeks, an accompanying fond laugh to cover over your own heartache. “Don’t get all sad on me now, we still have four days until you leave.” 

Chenle gives a weak smile, catching your hand with his own and bringing it from his eyes down to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand before shifting grips and giving it a tight squeeze. “Let’s go find your parents.” His voice cracks again as he speaks, and he’s finally able to let out an embarrassed laugh in response. You just nod your head, leaning over to grab your phone and find a well-timed text informing you they were waiting at a café on University Boulevard. So, with a onceover in the mirror to make sure the general public wouldn’t be able to tell you and Chenle just fucked, you led him out the door.

Once you got back home, you and Chenle hardly ever left each other’s sides…even less than normal. There was a shift ever since you moved most of your things to university, and everything started to feel a little more real as opposed to the way the rest of this summer felt like an escape from that reality. You both were running out of time, and you couldn’t do anything but be conscious of the fact. It affected Chenle the most, and you could tell from his first touch once the two of you got back. 

Up to now, sex with Chenle was a full-on activity. It was rough, hot, and passionate to say the least - he would fuck you. However, the last four days, the air had completely changed. Now all his movements were softer, slower. He was trying to memorize you. 

His eyes would become distant sometimes, and only he knew that it meant he was replaying the first day he met you - five-year-old him staring judgementally on the sidewalk out front of his aunt’s house as he watched you play with the water hose, getting messy for no reason and having the audacity to laugh with joy because of it. When you met his gaze, you motioned for him to come join you, to which he adamantly shook his head and decided he was never making friends with the kids on the block. However, as he turned around to go back inside, figuring some basketball could wait until all the messy kids were gone, cold water hit his back in a sensation that had him whipping around again. His first thought was to start spouting Chinese words that he heard his parents say sometimes after they got off business calls with ‘imbeciles of clients,’ but instead as he laid eyes on you, just a few feet away now, with a water gun in your hands and the brightest of joys in your eyes, he forgot all his words. All he knew was that he wanted to be friends with the kids on the block. Though, not even that, he just wanted to be friends with you. He swore in that moment you outshone the sun, and he wanted in on your warmth.

If Chenle knew then what he did at fourteen, he’s not sure he would’ve ever allowed himself to get close to you. However, if he knew then what he did now at eighteen, closer to you than he’s ever been, he’s positive he’d go through this heartbreak a thousand times if it meant he got to love you even once, and he wouldn’t have waited so damn long to love you in the first place. 

The last day - the last time, the distant look in Chenle’s eyes wasn’t there at all. Instead, it was filled with non-stop whispered words of how much you meant to him, how much he adored you; his voice occasionally catching in his throat when he got too sentimental, and you’d be reminded of how hard it was for him to articulate his thoughts at all; so all you could think to do was pull him down for a kiss and swallow his words instead. 

Then you blinked and it was already the day of Chenle’s departure. Your parents had been outside most of the morning helping Chenle and his aunt load the car up with his things. You took no part in it. Instead, you sat in your room, hugging your knees and staring blankly. The only tell that you weren’t frozen was the fact that you were chewing on your bottom lip, truthfully destroying it, but it was the only thing you could think to do to ground yourself at the time. 

With a light knock on the door, your mom enters your bedroom and you move your head up to meet her gaze. “Chenle’s sitting outside. We got him all packed up and everything.”

You swallow harshly and your eyes immediately find your knees again. “I know,” you reply shortly, your voice hardly above a whisper.

A sad smile crossed your mom’s face, but when she saw you making no effort to move in response to her words, she let out a sigh. “Sitting in your room doesn’t stop time.” Her words come out flat, like a lecture, and you knew she was trying to juggle how to be both, a ray of comfort and an authority figure. “You still have to say goodbye.”

You shake your head to dismiss the bit of worry held in her tone as she gave you orders. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around you, it was that you were the one mentally walking on eggshells around your heart. “I’m just trying to keep my emotions from running high,” you say monotonously, finally looking up at her. You watch her eyes widen as she notices the glaze of tears over your own, and shake your head again in frustration before dropping it back down to your lap. “The last thing he needs is to have to leave while I’m in tears. He’ll never want to go.”

Your mom rolls her lips inward, and suddenly she understands why you’ve taken solace in tearing up your own bottom lip before she walked in. Though, with a sigh, she speaks again with her best attempt at unbiased advice. “He already doesn’t want to go - but the fact of the matter is that when you look back on this moment days, months, years later, you’ll want to have said ‘goodbye.’” You shake your head immediately, she was wrong.

“No. I don’t ever want to say ‘goodbye’ to Chenle,” you claim with more force than you thought yourself capable of in such a fragile moment. You glance up to watch the outsider persona she tried to create instead fall away, and she just went back to being your mom.

She fumbled with her thoughts for a few moments, mouth opening and closing again as she shook away everything she didn’t want to say. Finally, she presses her lips to form a thin line, and then is immediately turning around to walk back out of your door. “You can wish him luck, then, but you need to go see him.” As her words come out, straightforward and not open for debate, you realize why she started walking away as she delivered them, because she wouldn’t have been able to face you and give such orders. Her words were still not what you needed to hear, and you both knew that, but she had to exert some authority and get you to at least do what seemed best in the long run; you figure that’s why it was hard for you to take in…you and Chenle didn’t have a long run. The concept of it hurt enough to pull you up from bed and out the front door. 

Without a word, you sit down next to Chenle on the sidewalk, making a chair out of the step in the pathway leading up to his aunt’s house. He moves his head to look over at you, registering that you were next to him. With a breath, you turn to face him as well, a smile on your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes, though the tears once occupying them were successfully blinked back. 

He ignores your smile of reassurance, instead just looking over you once and nodding his head minimally before facing the front again and leaning his head on your shoulder. That’s how the two of you stayed for a good five minutes. No words exchanged, just your light breaths and his heavy exhales as you run through every thought in your mind. You weren’t sure which ones to say, which ones would make things worse, or if any of them would make things better. 

“Oh!” You startle as the first practical, rather than emotional, thought crosses your mind. “I still have your hoodie, oh my god let me go get-” Your move to get up and run back into your house is ruined by Chenle’s calm words.

“Keep it,” he says immediately, and you whip your head towards him in shock.

“What? Chenle, if I keep it, it’s almost guaranteed you’re never getting it back. We won’t have contact after this.” That was always the deal, he was getting a new phone and his parents were taking any trace of you out of it, blocking your number, the whole nine yards. However, admitting that you weren’t going to have contact after this present moment was incredibly bitter on your tongue. The words make Chenle tense up, too, but he just as quickly continues with a head nod.

“I know. So, keep it. It can be your hoodie, just please don’t forget that it’s mine.” He stops talking once he notices the sorrow in his tone, and you watch as he swallows it back before speaking again, this time with a touch of playfulness. “And even after you stop wearing it, you can give it to your first-born, Chenle, and then it’s Chenle’s hoodie again.” He concludes as though the entire thing made perfect sense, and you didn’t know how to feel with the fact that his banter made this conversation seem so normal. On the one hand, you were grateful when the familiarity fought off any last question of tears, but on the other hand, you hated knowing this was the last time you would get to have a normal conversation with him. 

You settle with rolling your eyes rather than figuring out how to feel. “I’m not naming my first-born ‘Chenle,’” you reply, looking at him with raised eyebrows. You watch as a small smile overtakes his face, but it quickly settles into a grimace and then it’s gone.

“It was worth a shot.” He pauses for a beat before turning to face you, his new tone coming off as desperate, helpless. “Don’t ever forget me, okay?”

You shake your head rapidly as you reassure him. “I couldn’t.”

The two of you stare at each other again in silence for a moment. The time to say goodbye was upon you, which is why the conversation died, which is why you remember what your mom had said in your room, and thus you start with your wishes of luck. “You’re gonna do great, you know? Learning how to run a company and everything. No one’s more capable than you. I’m already incredibly proud of you, not because you’re gonna be a crazy successful business man, but because you’re you. So, when you set foot in your dad’s company, don’t lose that, okay? Everything that makes you Chenle. I’d be sad to see that go just for some bottom line.”

Chenle’s shoulders sink as he turns to face the pavement. “I’ll do my best for you,” he assures with a nod. You want to fill the silence again but hardly have a clue what to say. However, that’s when you see Chenle’s lips twitching and you know he’s in the midst of trying to articulate more of his own thoughts. When he does speak up again, his voice is surprisingly steady. “You know, I’ve been thinking lately. That’s all I could ever seem to do these past few weeks. You know I always struggled finding the right words to say, to let you know how much you mean to me. But lately I’ve found my words. And it’s stupid because it’s so easy,” he says with a scoff, and a wave of uneasiness washes over you as you see the smile he’s able to conjure up. “I’ve been saying it over and over again in my head and it’s so natural. I could’ve been telling you this entire time.”

That’s when clarity hits you and you jump to stop him from saying his next words - you couldn’t handle them. “Chenle, don’t-” You speak up in a rush, but he does, too.

“I love you,” he says firmly, finally bringing his head back up to look at you. His eyes are wide in sincerity, making sure you could see every emotion behind them, how much he meant it. “I love you, y/n l/n. I really do.”

Every last bit of strength you had vanished in milliseconds, and instead you bawled your eyes out sitting on that pavement. “You stupid kid,” you cry out, ramming your head into his shoulder. Underneath you, Chenle froze, and you realize he has no clue if you’re sad or genuinely mad at him. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” you add weakly, a hand coming up to clutch at his shirt. Chenle immediately softens, placing both of his arms around you as best he can. All this time, you had been mentally preparing to comfort him, to be so incredibly strong for him so that he could take his next steps and not feel incredibly guilty for doing so…but now he was the one comforting you as you sobbed in his arms. Chenle could figure out how to articulate his feelings but you couldn’t even get this right - he was stronger than you.

No more words were exchanged between the two of you. He held you in his arms as you tried to rid yourself of tears, but you couldn’t even accomplish that before his aunt gave the first gentle warning that they had to get on the road. Chenle felt you freeze in his arms, and he hated knowing that, regardless of how you wanted to frame it, he was the reason you were crying and torn up like this. If it was up to him, he would’ve never left you; but it wasn’t up to him, so all he could do was leave you with something - his hoodie, and the softest of kisses on the top of your head, getting you to finally pick your head up again so he could place more kisses across the span of your face, slowly but surely kissing your tears away until he made his way down to your lips…and there he finally faltered, letting out a heavy breath against your skin. A last kiss sounded horrible, did he even want one so clearly defined, or was it better for your last kiss to have been yesterday, being able to remember it as basked in love rather than tears. His inner debate was more like a war as his eyes roamed over every inch of your face - what to do? What’s best? Tears were still running down your face but he can't shake how beautiful you look right now…he loves you. How does he kiss you goodbye? How could he ever say goodbye? Does he not do anything at all? He loves you. Is a final goodbye best left unspoken? Unkissed? 

His state of drowning in his thoughts gets cut off as you make the decision for him, leaning in to kiss him softly, and instead he’s drowning in you…and your last kiss. It was delicate and innocent, with the audience you had, it probably would have been weird for it to be any other way. Regardless, he still chases your lips after you pull back - that couldn’t have been it; but then the car starts and his eyes shoot open as they dart over to where his aunt was getting situated in the driver’s seat. Chenle whipped back around to face you and looked terrified, but the roar of the engine was a constant reminder of where he needed to be - he couldn’t put it off any longer. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, instead it was just quick, heavy breaths and a scared shake of his head. None of that meant that he wasn’t in the act of standing up from the pavement, making his way to the car…leaving you.

Every step you watched him take as he left was another drop of poison in your bloodstream, a poison you should’ve built up tolerance for already given how many small doses it seemed like you were taking throughout the last three months. Though, you must be kidding yourself - goodnight kisses under the porch light before watching him walk the few steps to the other side of the road were nothing even close to poison; an antidote, maybe, to last you throughout the night and fight off the poison of when you were apart, but there were no more goodnight kisses to keep you going now. It was a different sting, your muscles tightened, you couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. Though, you refused to watch him go, leaving it up to your tears to blur the sight of it. The scene in front of you was nothing other than a tragedy, an ending no one was satisfied with, not because it could’ve ended differently, but because it was always going to end this way. There was no crazy plot twist or invocation of Deus Ex Machina to change the narrative. No, just the same, sad, memorized ending of a story you forgot was your own. You played yourselves for fools, believing you could outrun a truth that only ever gained on you with each stride - that, together, the only thing the two of you needed was what you would never be able to have…more time.