#Why yes I am the absolute worst with deadlines

[sugdenlovesdingle]

This is so so SO late but @chicgeekgirl89 here is your @tarlos-santa gift!

I absolutely loved all three of your prompts but in the end I went with: They lose power on Christmas Eve and Carlos freaks out about dinner but they make the most of it and still celebrate together.

And after several rewrites, mental breakdowns, existential crises, exasperation over the English language, and wondering if it's even real... this is the result and I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!!

---

Perfectly unperfect (AO3)

“What are your plans for the holidays, cap?” TK asked, making conversation as they headed back to the firehouse after a call on their last shift before Christmas.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just going to enjoy the downtime with the girls. Staying in our pyjamas all day, eating junk food, and watching Christmas movies.”

“What about you and Carlos?” Nancy asked. “Let me guess, not leaving the bed unless absolutely necessary?” she teased.

TK snorted.

“I wish. Carlos has been planning the dinner for weeks. We’ve been all over the city to get ingredients and I thought he was going to cry when his schedule changed and he had to work Christmas Eve.”

“Are you hosting the family Christmas dinner then?”

“No, that’s the worst of it.” TK sighed. “Dad invited us over and so did his parents but we decided to stay home. So it’s just going to be the two of us. And he’s still bought enough food as if both our entire families are coming over.”

“Oh that sucks dude. Your husband cooking you a fancy holiday dinner? Damn that’s rough.” Nancy said sarcastically. “I’m glad nobody is going to do that for me this year. That would just suck.”

“Shut up.” TK rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate him cooking us dinner, it’s that he’s stressing out over it when I would be happy with a frozen pizza and watching Home Alone in bed.”

“Have you tried telling him that?” Tommy asked. “Communication is the key to a long and happy marriage.”

“I have, but he just gives me the Carlos Cow Eyes and tells me he wants to make it special for us. And I can resist anything but that. Those soulful brown eyes will be the death of me.”

Tommy laughed.

“I remember those days well. Charles’ laugh made me melt when we first got married. And then when the girls were born, seeing him with them…” she sighed. “I was a goner.”

“Yeah, I’m still working on Carlos making friends with Lou. He’ll make him his salad and sometimes even feeds him crickets or meal worms but he still won’t touch him with more than just a finger.”

Nancy looked at him.

“How do you go from babies to lizards? Your mind is such a strange place sometimes.”

“Lou is our baby!” TK said as he turned the ambulance onto the street the firehouse was on. “What are your plans for the holidays anyway? Are you going to LA to meet up with Mateo and meet the family?”

“No, me and Marj are just going to hang out and spend it together. We’re getting Chinese food and I’m making her watch the Lord of the Rings movies because she’s never seen them.”

“Really? Do you have room for two more? We’ll bring snacks.” TK jokingly asked.

“No way dude, I need a break from seeing your face every day.”

“You see Marjan’s face every day too.”

“That’s different. I’m not stuck in an ambulance for hours with her every day. And she has a nicer face than you.” Nancy teased and jumped out of the ambulance after TK had parked it in its usual spot in the firehouse. “Oh look, if it isn’t mister soulful eyes. Hey Carlos.”

Carlos gave her a confused look but returned the greeting.

“Hey babe, Nancy doesn’t like my face.” TK mock pouted and kissed Carlos hello. “She says she needs a break from me.”

“Does she? Well then it’s her lucky day, because I’m here to take you home. And I do like your face. And the rest of you.”

“That’s good to hear. But my shift doesn’t end for another hour. And yours not until seven.”

“I pulled in a few favours. The guy who transferred here from New Jersey a few months ago agreed to cover for me if I introduce him to your dad sometime. He nearly fainted when I told him who my father in law is. Apparently Owen Strand is a legend over there.”

“Not just over there. He’s a legend over here too.” Owen walked up to them. “Did you know local news wants to interview me? They’re doing a local heroes feel good thing for the holidays. Exciting isn’t it?”

“Yeah, definitely. We should give you pictures to sign. You could hand them out to your fans on calls.” TK teased.

“Very funny. See if I mention my ungrateful gremlin of a son in my interview now. I’ll just mention my always friendly and nice son in law who is just the kind of person to stop by after his shift to wish everyone happy holidays.” Owen patted Carlos’ shoulder. “And happy holidays to you too, Carlos.”

They hung around the firehouse until the end of TK’s shift and then went home together after wishing everyone a happy Christmas. Only when they stepped outside the weather had changed for the worse. It had started raining and the wind had picked up.

“Good thing I picked up the last supplies for our Christmas dinner before I came here.” Carlos commented, looking at the dark clouds through the windshield of his car after they got in.

“Was there anything left in the store you hadn’t bought then?” TK said, only half joking. “We have enough food to last until Christmas next year.”

“I just… wanted us to have options. You didn’t want the turkey dinner…”

“So you just bought everything else?” TK asked and leaned over the gear stick to kiss Carlos’ cheek. “I love you but when I said I didn’t want the whole turkey dinner, I meant I didn’t want you spending the whole day in the kitchen cooking some 10 course meal. We could just get a burger or tacos on the way home.”

“We can’t get tacos at Christmas, TK.” Carlos insisted. “And I don’t want to drive halfway across the city in this weather anyway.”

By the time they made it home, the rain had gotten even worse and unfortunately Carlos’ usual parking space was taken, which meant they had to park further down the street and run to the front door.

They were both soaking wet in seconds and causing a mini flood when they walked into their loft a few minutes later.

TK dumped his keys in the bowl by the door and the bag he was carrying on the kitchen counter.

“This can wait.” He decided, and turned to Carlos. “You, me, shower, now.”

“You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute. Just let me put this stuff away.” Carlos replied, opening the freezer and putting a tub of TK’s favourite ice cream in.

“Babe. I need to get out of these wet clothes… and I could use some help.” TK said, grabbing Carlos’ hand and dragging him to the bathroom. “Like I said… you, me, shower, now.”

In the end, Carlos didn’t need much convincing and TK decided that this was easily the best Christmas eve he’d ever had.

Especially since he spent the rest of the night making out on the sofa with his husband like a couple of teenagers, instead of watching some cheesy Christmas movie they’d put on as background noise.

When he woke up the next morning, he reached out for Carlos, hoping to convince him to sleep in or possibly even stay in bed the whole day, but found his side of the bed empty and cold.

He listened for clues on what Carlos was doing, and most importantly where, but didn’t hear much except the storm still raging outside their loft.

“Babe?” he called out, sitting up in bed. “Carlos?”

“I’m here.” Carlos appeared in the doorway carrying a tray filled with food and fresh juice. “I was making breakfast.” He put the tray on the nightstand and leaned down to kiss TK. “Good morning. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” TK replied and then did a double take. “Wait… you made me breakfast in bed? Who are you and what have you done to my husband?”

Carlos chuckled and got into bed.

“I wanted to do something nice for you. For us. We’ll just change the sheets when we’re done.”

“I could get used to this.” TK commented and bit into a chocolate covered strawberry. “Though we could’ve just gotten coffee and pastries from that place on fifth.”

“Not in this weather. The storm from last night has only gotten worse. My mom texted me earlier and told us not to drive out to the ranch because it’s too dangerous.”

“We weren’t going to…”

“I know. But now we’re officially excused. They have Ana and Diego and the kids staying with them anyway, they won’t miss us.”

After breakfast, TK managed to convince Carlos to stay in bed and watch a movie with him, even though he knew the other man was itching to get started on the Christmas lunch and dinner he’d planned.

The storm was still raging outside but snuggled up together under the covers in their bed, neither man really cared.

TK facetimed his mom and they watched Jonah tear open the presents they’d sent over.

“You two spoil him.” Gwyn said, sounding mildly exasperated but smiling. “Enzo and I agreed to keep it simple and then you two buy him everything from his list.”

“It’s for his birthday too.” TK argued. “And I just want him to know he has a cool big brother in Austin who will buy him cool presents.”

“He fought two soccer moms for that robot dog.” Carlos told Gwyn. “It got ugly.”

“It’s ok. There wasn’t any blood.” TK joked and they all laughed.

“Did you get our presents?” Gwyn asked.

“You mean the plane tickets in our names? As a not so subtle way of telling us to come visit?”

“I don’t do subtle. It just complicates things.” Gwyn argued. “And I haven’t seen you two since the wedding! It’s been way too long. I’ve almost forgotten what you look like.”

“You’re seeing us now.”

“I just see your face.”

“I’ve been told it’s a very nice face.”

“It is a nice face, I made that face. But I’d like to see the rest of you again too. And you too Carlos.”

“We’ll do our best to come visit as soon as we can in the new year.” Carlos promised and got out of bed. “I’ll leave you two to talk, I’ll get started on dinner.” He said and pulled one of TK’s hoodies over his head.

Only before he’d even made it out of the bedroom, there was a loud clash of thunder and the loft went dark.

“What the hell?”

Carlos tried the light switch next to the bedroom door but nothing happened.

“Is it just us?” TK asked, getting out of bed after quickly saying goodbye to his mom. “We didn’t have that many appliances running that we’d blow a fuse, did we?”

“I don’t know.” Carlos said, frustrated. “I’ll go check the fuse box downstairs. Do we still have that flashlight?”

“Kitchen drawer I think. Do we have any new fuses?”

“I don’t know. I thought I bought some when we moved in. When I moved in…”

“That was ages ago.”

“I know that, TK.” Carlos snapped but regretted it immediately. “It might not be the fuse anyway. I’ll just go have a look downstairs and we’ll take it from there.” He slipped on his work boots and grabbed his keys, and all but slammed into their neighbour when he opened the door.

“Oh, hi. Did your power just go out too?” she asked, looking past him into the loft. “I was talking to my sister in Ohio and suddenly everything went poof. I think it’s the storm.”

“Yeah, everything went black for us too.” Carlos told her and noticed more neighbours coming out of their apartments to see what was going on. “It looks like it’s the whole building.”

“Actually, it’s the whole city. Or parts of the city.” TK joined them in the doorway and showed Carlos his phone. “I still have that 911 scanner on my phone. There are calls coming in from all over the city. The storm knocked some power lines down and they can’t fix them until it’s over.”

“Fantastic.” Carlos felt a tension headache building behind his eyes.

“Do you boys have candles? I have plenty, you can have some. I like to light some for dinner this time of year. It gets dark so early.”

“Thanks, but we’re ok Mrs Evans.” TK said and quickly closed the door. “What do we do now?” He asked Carlos.

“I don’t know. We have all this food that’s going to go bad if we don’t eat it, but we can’t prepare it because our stove is electric. And the ice cream in the freezer is going to melt and I bought it especially for our Christmas dinner because it’s your favourite.”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” TK put his hands on Carlos’ shoulders to stop him from spiralling. “The food will keep for a while. It’s only been 10 minutes and if we keep the fridge closed, it’ll stay cool. And we’ll just eat the ice cream now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Why not? Our Christmas, our ice cream, our rules. Grab a spoon.”

They sat down at their dining table with the ice cream, even though neither of them really felt like it, and TK could tell Carlos was distracted.

“Babe, what are you thinking about?” he pushed.

“What are we going to do for food? We can’t even have leftovers because we can’t heat anything up.”

“We could go get tacos after all.”

“Are they even open on Christmas day?” Carlos asked and pulled out his phone to look it up, but put it back down again right away. “We need to preserve the batteries of our devices.” He explained.

TK wanted to argue that they probably wouldn’t last for the entire time the power was likely to be out, but then his phone started ringing in his hand.

“Dad, hi, not a good time right now.”

“Did you just lose power too? It looked like your area got hit too but the map I saw wasn’t too clear.”

“Yeah, everything is dark here.” TK sighed and looked at Carlos who had started pacing up and down the loft. “We’re kind of screwed because the stove is electric too.”

“Come to me.” Owen suggested. “Not me, me… but the firehouse. It has a generator so there is power and heat. And a working stove.”

“I don’t know dad, we wanted to just do our own thing this Christmas.”

“In an apartment without power? Don’t be ridiculous TK. Just pack up and come over here.”

After a few minutes back and forth and Carlos getting pulled into the conversation, they promised Owen they were on their way, and a little over an hour later, they walked into the firehouse.

“And there was me thinking I wouldn’t have to see this place for a week.” TK sighed.

They greeted his dad and the crew from B-shift and TK got Lou set up in Owen’s office while Carlos put the food away.

They joined the crew in the lounge area where everyone was gathered around the TV and keeping a close eye on the weather report. Carlos sat down in his usual spot next to TK but barely said a word to anyone.

When Tommy and the twins came in some time later, he got up to greet them and wish them a merry Christmas, but for Nancy, Marjan, Paul, and Asha, he barely managed more than a smile and a quick “Hey.”.

TK was starting to worry and enlisted Paul’s help to pull him out of his funk.

“Carlos my man.” Paul started, patting Carlos’ shoulder. “We need to feed these people. We don’t want Marjan getting hungry. I still wake up in a cold sweat remembering those first few days of Ramadan last year.”

“I heard that!” Marjan yelled.

“Good! You were hangry and we all suffered!”

Carlos laughed a little and agreed to help Paul cook.

“Do we have enough to feed all of these people?”

“Yeah I think so. Asha and I brought our food and I saw the mountain of food that was already in the fridge when I put ours in there. We’re alright. Come on, let’s figure out what to make.”

Carlos joined Paul in the kitchen and soon there were multiple pots on the stove and the firehouse was starting to smell amazing.

TK was put on chopping duty, while the Vega twins helped Owen set up extra tables and chairs for everyone, and Nancy and Marjan attempted to fold the paper napkins they found in fancy shapes following a YouTube tutorial.

“Babe, come taste this.” Carlos held out a spoon for TK. “Good?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. Is this what you were planning on making for us at home?”

“No, but with the stuff that was in the fridge here, and the stuff Paul and Asha brought we were able to experiment a little.”

“We should let you experiment more often.” TK said and stole another bite of the sauce. “This is really good.”

“Yeah? Not too spicy?”

“No, it’s perfect. Just like you.”

Carlos blushed and ducked his head but still let TK kiss his cheek and returned the “I love you” he murmured in his ear.

“If you two are going to be like this all night, we’re going back to Nance’s apartment.” Marjan announced and everyone laughed.

“Yeah, have some mercy on us single people.” Owen said, joining in on the teasing and stealing a quick taste of the food.

Dinner was somewhat chaotic and a little cramped since the firehouse kitchen wasn’t built to seat this many people at once, but everyone enjoyed their meal, and each other’s company.

Even though B-shift got called out and Owen had to join them on their call and leave their makeshift Christmas party.

“I vote we put on LOTR.” Nancy told the rest when they’d all settled down in the lounge after dinner. “Marj has never seen them and I said I’d educate her this Christmas.”

“We were planning on watching The Holiday.” Tommy said. “You can’t go wrong with a romcom at Christmas.”

“I haven’t seen The Holiday either.” Marjan admitted. “I’m not a big movie person ok? I get bored.” She defended herself when Nancy asked how she’d managed that and the Vega twins started shooting movie titles at her to check which ones she had seen.

“I guess it’s Jude Law first, and Orlando Bloom second then.” Asha settled the debate. “It’s not like any of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” Paul started. “If any of you guys snore, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“You’ve shared a bunk room with most of us for years!” Marjan reminded him. “You know we don’t snore. Judd does. And Mateo sometimes.”

“And my dad.” TK grinned. “It used to wake me up when I was little. I thought it was the train going past our apartment but it was just him.” He said and everyone laughed.

They spent the rest of the night watching movies, and TK let Evie feed Lou and walk him around the firehouse on the leash and harness he’d bought a while ago.

Carlos had gone quiet again, but TK figured he was just tired and let him be.

By the time Owen returned with the B-shift, everyone was starting to get tired and Tommy took charge in working out the sleeping arrangements.

The twins wanted to sleep in the bunk room with the crew but Tommy insisted they slept in her captain’s quarters with her, while Owen gave up his to TK and Carlos.

“I know it’s nothing like your bed at home but it’s better than separate bunks with the rest of them right beside you.”

“We’re fine to sleep in the bunk room.” Carlos assured him. “We don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s fine. I insist.” Owen said and with TK’s help got Carlos to give in and accept the bed.

It was a small double bed barely big enough for the two of them, but they made it work.

“I’m sorry.” Carlos sighed, trying to get comfortable in the small bed after TK had turned off the lights and gotten into bed with him.

“Sorry for what?”

“For ruining our first Christmas as a married couple.”

“What? What are you talking about? Unless you caused this storm and the power cut, you didn’t ruin anything.” TK insisted. “And even if you did cause it, I’ve had a great night. I have you, Lou, my dad, our friends… That’s all I need.”

“I just… I had all these plans. I wanted to cook you something nice and exchange gifts by our tree and just… make our own traditions.” Carlos explained, avoiding looking at TK. “Especially after I made you deal with all of the crazy Reyes family traditions last year.”

“I had a great time last year too.” TK promised. “Especially when your abuela started talking about what Christmas was like when you were little. I loved that little look into how you grew up.”

“She was just happy to have someone to talk to that hadn’t heard all of her stories about 500 times before.”

“Well it’s a good thing I was a willing audience then.” TK laughed a little. “She even went out of her way to speak English with me the whole night, and she was so excited when I told her I was learning Spanish.”

“Yeah she told me to hold onto you when we left because you were a good boy with a good heart.” Carlos told him, smiling at the memory. “The whole Reyes family loves you.”

TK smiled and wrapped his arms around Carlos a little tighter.

“That’s good, but I’m only really interested in one of them loving me. Though technically his name is Reyes-Strand now.”

Carlos sighed and rolled onto his back.

“That’s why I wanted this Christmas to be special. The start of our life together.”

“Technically our life together started a long time ago.”

“You know what I mean.” Carlos sighed again. “Everything is official now. We’re married, the name change has gone through… I wanted things to be special. Perfect. Not… whatever this disaster was.”

“Baby, look at me.” TK said and waited for Carlos to do so. “I don’t care about presents or the perfect dinner… All I want for Christmas is you.” He said and kissed him for emphasis.

“Did you just quote Mariah Carey at me?”

TK shrugged.

“She made a pretty good point with that song.”

[ferrstappen]

Max the wag: are we the drama? l Max Verstappen Imagine

happy note: hello my loviessssss! How are you all? It feels like it’s been an eternity and I am so so happy to be back to writing and interacting with your great and incredible asks and everything <3 and I know I said this was supposed to be ready by Monday or so? but I started an internship and it's been harder than expected, but I'm getting the hang of it so be prepared for more works to come!

Probably tomorrow I’ll be posting a list of all the requests I’m incredibly behind but that way you know I got them and are on my mind and will be written <3 I also don’t know if you like the idea of starting a tag list? Please please let me know, babes <3 

ALSO I got an incredible request of the Max the wag series involving our boy Yuki AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH so it’s absolutely happening!

YOU CAND FIND THE MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: For the first time, Max and you find yourselves on the other end of the gossip.

Hungary Grand Prix, 2023.

Max wasn’t feeling like himself.

The car upgrades were supposed to be great, not to make him struggle and happy a shitty day, which meant shitty questions, passive aggressive press conference trying to not look so annoyed, but it didn’t help that the press was painstakingly working to get the worst angles with furrowed eyebrows and waving off strangers trying to aggressively approach him.

Of course, it didn’t help you weren’t there to hold his hand walking around the paddock, forcing his blue eyes to focus on your calming smile and the inevitable lovestruck expression plastered on his face. 

And yes, he was letting out the fact he didn’t leave Monaco in the best of terms. He’d grown accustomed to you tagging along to most races, but when you informed him you wouldn’t be able to make it to the last two races before summer break he didn’t take it the best way. 

Yes, Max understood you were needed at your job and deadlines were way more difficult to meet with changing time zones, bumpy flights and noisy paddocks and hospitalities, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed you and his selfish self really needed you cheering for him, even if you’d seen him win enough times already. 

In conclusion, it was safe to say he didn’t really feel like putting on a genuine smile or goof around with interviewers who’d ask the same questions while Christian tells him off for looking unapproachable. 

The only thing that turned the corners of his mouth was a WhatsApp attachment from you, Jimmy and Sassy sleeping with the F1 channel on full display on the TV. 

It wasn’t long until Twitter and Instagram fan accounts came to the conclusion you weren’t there with Max, creating a small discussion with some people arguing that it didn’t make sense you’d tagged along to places like Baku or Melbourne and not go to a race less far away and arguably one of the most popular tracks of the season, while other people defended you saying you had your own life apart from being Max’s girlfriend, you had a job, conferences to attend amongst other things, so it was ridiculous to expect you to be there for every race, no matter how much you loved Max. 

You don’t know whether it was the fact you didn’t post a story on Instagram celebrating Max’s win or the fact Max hadn’t been his best self, struggling with the car, losing control over the tiniest thing and just losing focus overall the fuel for some fans to start speculating about the status of your relationship.

User1: why hasn’t y/n  posted something about max?? she always does when she’s not with him

User2: something’s sus 

User3: no pls I cant handle another July break up

User4: max deserves someone who shows up for him! He arguably had the most difficult weekend of the season and she’s mia 

            User5: she’s always there for him and has a right to have her own life grow the hell up!

Belgian Grand Prix, 2023

Last race before summer break meant most people on the paddock were a turmoil of emotions between the desire for the weekend to be completely over and wishing to do the best possible job before the break.

Max convinced himself he was coming into the weekend relaxed, knowing he’d have to put his best strategies, talent and focus for Spa, but a few free weeks were right around the corner so he could recharge with you, staying in bed for the entire morning before getting up to get ready to go out, maybe arriving back to the apartment drunk and giggly only to regret everything during the morning, but with the knowledge you were going to do the exact same.

He was facetiming you when he came across lots of fans wanting his attention, asking for pictures, until someone asked for you and Max pretended he didn’t listen, not wanting to answer things about his relationship, and the woman that asked wasn’t even sharp enough to catch your face on full display on his screen. 

Had Max known the chaos it would ensue not answering the simple question about you, maybe he’d reconsider, especially since Lando and him jumped from the paddock to a helicopter waiting to take them to the closing night of Tomorrowland where Martin Garrix was closing the last weekend.

User1: *attached video* pls pls you HAVE to see the discomfort on max face when someone asked him about y/n something is not right with parents

            User2: we all know he never speaks about her thoo, im keeping my hopes up!!!!

User4: I’m calling break up and good cuz I never liked her always acted like she was too good for the f1 world and never communicated w fans

            User3: that’s called being reserved moron!!1 you don’t see other wags taking pics with fans except maybe lily bc she’s a pro golfer!!!

You were sitting on your bed when Victoria sent a thread on Twitter (or X? or Threads? it’s confusing) pointing at every proof and detail about your supposed break up, ironically asking if you had something to inform the family since Max hadn’t said anything. 

With widened eyes and unable to contain the urge to see what people were saying about Max and you, two hours later you were still reading gossip sites and didn’t even hear the door of the penthouse opening with both Sassy and Jimmy running away from the feet of the bed. 

“Is this the welcome I get?” Max’s voice announced his arrival, catching you by surprise and throwing the phone in the air. 

“Fuck, Max! You scared the shit out of me, I hate you!” You laughed, finally realizing he was right in front of you and kneeling on the bed to attach your arms around his neck, allowing Max to grab you by the thighs and spin you around while you left small kisses on his cheeks.

“What were you reading? You looked very focused,” Max carefully placed you back on the mattress before throwing his body and groaning at the feeling of his muscles relaxing.

“Did you know we broke up?” You questioned your boyfriend whose blue eyes opened as much as they could, eyebrows raised and slightly moving his head in confusion. 

Max was confused but still demanded an answer on what was going on as he watched the corners of your mouth lifting and quiet giggles leaving them. 

“Look, it’s full of theories because I didn’t attend the last races and after you went with Lando to watch Martin, some fans started drawing their own conclusions!”

“Are they insane? Speculating about other people’s love lives is so rude, and just because I didn’t answer a question about you which I never do? People are crazy!” Max exclaimed on an irritated tone, but quickly caught your eyes, making him realize the people commenting were doing the exact same thing as you, just on a larger scale. 

“Baby, I think this time we are the drama…” You stated before the bedroom became quiet.

It was just Max and you staring at each other, recalling every time you eavesdropped a conversation that clearly wasn’t meant for either of you to hear, or discussed different theories on who had cheated, who had broken up with whom, why some partners were so young or looked almost identical. 

“Schatz, I am not going to lie,” Max started with a frown and serious face before continuing. “I am very proud of us” After letting it out Max started laughing, his cheeks flushing and placing his hand over his mouth to try to stifle the sounds. 

“Baby, this definitely means we made it!”

It was bound to happen, you were meant to eventually become a source of spectacle if you enjoyed gossiping about other people’s lives so much. 

After laughing to the brink of tears, Max kissed your lips; softly, slowly and sensually, making it hard to separate but he stared right into your eyes and asked you in all seriousness: “Should we feed the gossip? Wouldn’t it be fun?”

[jigglypuff1994]

Motivation is such a strange concept.

One day, I feel as though I can take on the world. Maybe I finally finish a project I've been working on. I feel invincible! I feel like a winner! I feel like I could spit fire.

The next day, I am a couch potato. I have nothing to give the world and everything to take. I am messy and order pizza because I can. There are ingredients in my fridge waiting to be used, slowly decaying as I sit prettily on my phone without a care in the world. Those avocados on my counter? Yeah, they're definitely expiring at the very moment I take my first bite of savory goodness that was delivered hot and ready.

But should I act? Should I feel motivated? Should I push myself? Probably.

But I won't.

And here's why:

I spent about three months in a program to tackle my anxiety and depression issues.

Am I cured? Absolutely not.

Do I still have my bad days? Yes, almost every other day.

Do I know how to handle them slightly better than before? Yes, absolutely.

I know that motivation is a key player in my anxiety/depression issues.

I didn't finish this. I didn't do that. I am the worst at self-motivation.

But this just isn't true.

Yet why is the thought of needing to find motivation such a driving force that simultaneously is keeping us restrained by the shackles of guilt?

My therapist once gave me some solemn advice: We all need balance. If you feel down, try an up. If you feel up, try taking it down a notch.

If I'm having a 'low' day, I'll listen to some 'fun' music to help lighten my mood. This usually helps alleviate the big sad.

And vice-versa, if I'm having an 'up' day, I listen to a nice even-toned podcast about something I like that isn't too stressful or read a book in a quieter part of my house. This will help alleviate my big anxiety.

I accept that I am not an energizer bunny nor a sluggish sloth. And more importantly, having a balance of resting and doing is essential.

It's okay to take breaks and give yourself a rest, but it's also hard to accept that our bodies and brains need the rest.

It's why we end up with unfinished products and wips (my GOD, the amount of wips I have is daunting). Not just in writing or creativity, but in life.

That garden that I've been neglecting for a week because it's a million degrees outside, and I can't go outside without looking like a red pepper after ten minutes. So, I choose not to.

The cleaned and dried laundry that sits unfolded in a basket. One that stares at me on a daily basis, causing a strained relationship between myself and the limp, crumpled pile of clothing. One that haunts me at three in the morning and younger (cough adult cough) me definitely thought was the boogie man.

We end up feeling guilty and wanting to do things that we truly have no desire to do. We may have found joy in one moment for this concept or object, but this does not mean we have to be on the same level of energy at all times. That would be exhausting.

As for life, there are deadlines and structured things we have to do in order to survive and to participate in the grind. The to-do list is never ending. It's a daily, weekly, monthly struggle we all face.

So, here's my secret, captain: I rest. I recharge. I allow myself to be.

Because being is a very hard thing to do.

I feel like motivation comes in waves, and this is perfectly acceptable!

When I force myself, I find the passion isn't there. I come up with something that I'm not really proud of. I feel guiltier than I would have if I had just allowed myself to do the thing it desperately craves anyways: to rest.

If music compositions can have a rest stop

If plays can have an intermission

If nature can sleep during the winter

Then we can, too.

In order to become motivated once again, allow yourself to rest. I know it's an odd thing to suggest, but I find this helps. Sorry @trinketsinthesun for the dissertation. Hope this helps!

Calling everyone who wants to be/is a productive badass, but struggles with energy and motivation in general. What are your tips for staying focused and getting shit done?

And I want ALL the tips please! The more advice, the merrier I'll be.

Also, please repost. Maybe we can work out how to life together.

[chloegong]

that semi-AU romajuliette + benmars fic

i need a permanent place to store this after dumping a random google doc on twitter so here it is, the author writing fic for her own book because people gave me headcanons and they were too good not to make use of

__

the one where juliette and marshall go out for a night out on the town and roma and ben have to go along to supervise because one time they accidentally committed arson —headcanon from twitter user @leonidasvaldz

a semi AU where Benedikt and Marshall were hanging out with Roma and Juliette in those happy months R&J had together in 1922 before everything went wrong (aka you can take this as canon because it will fit the timeline but the characters won’t have memory of this in the actual published books)

Disclaimer: i wrote this in one go inside a starbucks please expect ao3 user chloegong and not Author Chloe Gong who does multiple rounds of edits on her books

Second Disclaimer: nobody go putting this on goodreads before someone on my publishing team kicks my ass (rightfully so, i’m on deadline rn and i’m writing fanfic instead of my real contracted manuscript)

Mandatory reminder that Our Violent Ends is available for preorder with all links here :)

__

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And yet, somehow, Benedikt was watching fire curl around the side of the building, the roof beams giving a loud groan before shuddering and caving in on itself.

He turned a look onto Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

~

Five hours earlier...

Juliette climbed in through the window of Roma’s bedroom, careful to hug the burlap bag close to her chest as she landed on his carpet. The howling wind outside drowned out some of the clinking, but the glass bottles were still making a racket no matter how carefully she hugged the bag. She had gone full throttle for tonight; when no one was watching and her relatives were downstairs crowing over a game of cards, she had snuck around and robbed the liquor cabinets at the Scarlet mansion quite generously. Now she dropped the bag onto Roma’s floor with a huff, brushing a curl of hair out of her eyes.

“Where’s Marshall?”

Roma looked up from where he was reading, putting his book down and rising from the bed smoothly.

“Well, hello.” He strode toward her, stopping before her with his arms crossed. “Lovely to see you too. You do know it is my bedroom you just snuck into, right?”

Juliette pretended to jump in surprise, looking around wildly. “Do you jest? Oh, bother. Let me climb back out and go find my real lover. Marshall! Where are—”

With a huff that seemed to double as a laugh, Roma grabbed her wrist before she could turn around and leave through the window again.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly.

“I know.” Juliette reached up with her free hand, clasping her cold fingers right onto his neck. Though her palm was freezing from the bitter temperatures outside, Roma hardly flinched, he only shrugged his shoulder up to keep her hand there. He couldn’t fight back the grin. For several seconds, the two of them only stood there, looking like a pair of idiots smiling at each other.

Then his door opened.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Marshall bounded into the room, throwing the door wide open. With a horrified expression, Benedikt hurried in after him and closed the door quickly, listening for movement on the other side.

“Yes, leave the door wide open,” Benedikt said. “While any White Flower strolling the corridor can peer in and see the Scarlet heir standing there in a silly coat.”

Juliette stepped away from Roma, peering down at herself as if she had forgotten what she put on. “I didn’t think it was that silly. It’s my disguise.”

“You do look a little like a housewife,” Marshall said, considering the coat.

“A fifteen-year-old housewife?”

“I suppose that is exactly why you look a little silly.”

Juliette pulled a face, but refrained from arguing further. She was here tonight because Marshall wanted to see the new Scarlet club that opened along Thibet Road, and she had promised she could sneak him in. Unfortunately, Marshall was bad at keeping secrets, and the worst at keeping secrets from Benedikt. The moment that Benedikt heard Marshall was planning on entering Scarlet territory, he had decided that he would come in accompaniment.

Juliette supposed it was only fair. Benedikt didn’t entirely trust her, but he was nice enough. He tolerated her presence and always kept an eye over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t spotted on their territory if she poked her head in to see Roma. While Juliette didn’t know much about Marshall either, he was far warmer than his best friend, and for the first time last week, they had even enjoyed an outing with just the two of them. Juliette Cai and Marshall Seo—out and about in the border territories on a quaint evening.

That outing had ended with accidental arson though, so it was rather possible that exacerbated Benedikt’s desire to play chaperone. And of course, if Benedikt was coming along, Roma wanted to tag along too.

The arson was hardly their fault, Juliette and Marshall had maintained when the Montagovs asked questions. What kind of person left a stack of hay out beside a bar? And what kind of hay was that easily flammable just from accidentally whacking one of the lanterns on the awning onto the stack?

“All right.” Juliette hauled the bag up again. “Are we ready to sneak onto Scarlet territory?”

“Absolutely not,” Benedikt muttered, strolling past her for Roma’s window. “But is that going to stop either of you?”

Before anyone could answer him, Benedikt had already hopped the small gap between windows, climbing into their neighboring building for their route out unspotted.

“Great!” Juliette said. She passed the bag to Roma so he could do the carrying. What was the point of converting a rival gang enemy into a lover if not to lug around her heavy things? “Glad we’re all so enthusiastic.”

Roma sighed, clambering onto his sill and making the climb too. “The things I do for you, dorogaya.”

Marshall hurried after him. “I would argue you’re actually doing this for me, dearest Roma!”

With a snort, Juliette climbed out last, and pulled the window after her.

~

The Scarlet club had been a bust. Of course, Benedikt had figured that would be the case from the get-go, especially if they were sneaking in at such a late hour to avoid being seen by anyone important in the Scarlet Gang. At least Juliette had provided good alcohol, and now he squinted at the label of the wine bottle under the street lamps while they walked, taking the smaller main roads along the periphery of the city.

Up ahead, Roma and Juliette were whispering to each other, though they didn’t sound like they were talking in full sentences. Those two always communicated in looks and gestures, swapping languages whenever they felt like it and ending up with some incoherent tangle of words that no one else could comprehend.

“Is there anything left in that?”

Benedikt glanced to his side, shaking the bottle to show Marshall. “One last swig. All yours.”

Marshall took the bottle. He put it to his lips and swung up, his head tipped to the sky and the line of his throat bared to the night. Benedikt shivered suddenly, a line of goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. The season had turned cold and the wind that blew onto his face was biting. He wrote off his shudder to the chill, to the temperature dropping with the longer they spent outside at such an hour.

Suddenly, Marshall was squinting into the distance. “Hey.” His call summoned Roma and Juliette’s attention from ahead, who both turned around to see what the matter was.

Marshall pointed to the dark shape off the end of the road. “Isn’t that the abandoned factory we lost to the Scarlets?”

“Is it?” Juliette asked, a sudden glee in her face.

“Why would you say that?” Roma bemoaned. He didn’t bother trying to stop her as Juliette hurried ahead, eager to explore the factory. “Look what you’ve done.”

But Marshall was wearing a similar expression, his eyes scanning the factory as they approached closer and closer. Wordlessly, he handed the bottle back to Benedikt, and though Benedikt’s head was spinning from the drink, he still recognized the exact face that Marshall made before he was going to get himself into trouble.

“Mars—”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he insisted, tipping his chin forward. Juliette had disappeared into the factory. “You two be look-out. We wouldn’t want someone finding us here, right?”

Benedikt scarcely had a second to argue back. Marshall was already hurrying off.

~

Inside the factory, Juliette trailed her hands along the dark walls, her eyes wide. The machines looked strange in the moonlight, but stranger while sitting so idle. She was used to seeing rows and rows of workers in the daytime, trailing after her father as he ran inspections on the work of their trade partners. It might have been the wine in her system, but everything seemed to sway: sitting so inactive in movement that her eyes were imagining movement.

“Pst.”

Juliette almost jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she muttered, whirling around with a hand on her heart. Marshall slunk out from the shadows, both his hands in his pockets. “You gave me a fright.”

“Me? Frightening?” Marshall picked up a strange object on the table, inspected it for several seconds, then set it back down. “I am the least frightening person on the planet.”

“Yes, well, when it’s so dark, even a cuddly teddy bear would be terrifying.” Juliette felt around her dress. She thought she had tucked her lighter in here somewhere. There were little pockets sewn around the sleeves and armholes that she kept all her weapons, though if anyone asked, she would say she had the ability to materialize them out of thin air.

“Do you scream often at teddy bears?”

“Only when they sneak up on me.”

“I don’t see you screaming at Roma.”

“He gets a special pass. He’s only a teddy bear on the inside.”

Marshall snorted. He leaned down, trying to read the paper taped down to the table. At last, Juliette found her lighter—it was actually in her sock—and she brought it close, thumbing down the sparkwheel for a flame.

“Do not touch—for demolishing,” Marshall read under the new light. “Are the Scarlets going to build something new here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Juliette replied. “My father doesn’t include me in his business meetings yet.”

“Hmm.” The shadows of the factory danced. Juliette thought she saw someone darting in her periphery, and she whirled around, but it was only Marshall’s shadow. Unfortunately, she had scared Marshall with her movement, and he bumped into her, asking, “What? What is it?”

The lighter flew out of her hands, landing on the paper.

“Nothing, nothing!” Juliette assured. “I was seeing things.”

But Marshall wasn’t convinced. He swiveled around. Peered hard into a corner. “Was it ghosts? I know this city has ghosts. All that death creates so many ghosts.”

Juliette tried to look where he was looking. She couldn’t see anything except the dark.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Just last week, I felt something walk by me and then there was no one when I looked. I swear to you, if it wasn’t ghosts then I—” Marshall stopped suddenly, turning around to look at the table. “Uh… is that supposed to happen?”

Juliette whirled around too. The whole table was on fire. “Oh, God.”

With a sudden pop, the fire sprung up and licked up to the walls. There had to be something sprayed inside the factory already to prepare for demolition, or else the flames would not be traveling with such intensive speed.

“Marshall,” Juliette said simply.

“Yes?”

She looked at him. “When the Montagovs ask, we blame the factory and say we have no idea what happened. Run!”

~

Benedikt and Roma kept watch in relative silence. Benedikt’s head was spinning, and his cousin looked like his head was doing the same if his swaying was any indication. Roma was humming softly under his breath, toeing the grass that grew around the abandoned factory.

Then, there was a sudden sound from inside, and the first tendrils of flames blew out from the topmost windows.

“Roma,” Benedikt said plainly. “I’m willing to bet my life savings that Juliette Cai just committed arson.”

Roma tilted his head up, his jaw dropping agape. At first, he could only stare at the growing fire, eating up the roof beams. Then, he said: “To be fair, it could have been Marshall.”

Benedikt threw his arms into the air. “Who looks more like the arson type, Juliette or Marshall?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“The answer was Juliette!”

Benedikt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was rapidly growing concerned, but before he could suggest they go in to search for the two, Juliette and Marshall ran out from the factory—laughing. The factory was burning down, and they were laughing, grasping at each other and spinning in circles right in front of the factory. They looked a sight: seconds away from collapsing atop of each other in utter delirium.

Benedikt turned to Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Roma was struggling to hold back his laugh watching her with Marshall. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Marshall stumbled, and Juliette squealed, reaching out to grab his arm before he could trip and land flat on his face. Benedikt almost—almost—let a smile slip. Before Roma could sight it and tease him for enjoying himself after all, he cleared his throat.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“Faulty factory!” Marshall called back.

Benedikt shook his head, turning on his heel. They needed to get out of here before someone reported the fire.

“Come on!” he called back to the three. “Let’s go before the Municipal Police arrive.”

Upon Benedikt’s summons, Marshall left Juliette’s side and hurried to catch up. He slowed to a stroll once he was beside Benedikt, but Benedikt could feel Marshall watching him.

“What?” Benedikt asked. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his cousin was following too. Thankfully he was, though it was mostly Juliette hauling him along, their hands clasped together and swinging while Roma kept looking at the fire.

“I think you enjoyed yourself,” Marshall replied smugly. “After all that complaining about sneaking into Scarlet territory.”

Benedikt reached out and rapped his knuckles on Marshall’s skull. With a shriek, Marshall darted ahead.

“You want me to enjoy myself?” Benedikt shouted after him, breaking into a run too. “Come back then! Let me throttle you!”

FIN.

[luxaofhesperides]

stealing clothes

college au ft. domestic joongdok. i am so predictable.

also on ao3.

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Kim Dokja is extremely lucky to have Yoo Joonghyuk as his roommate. Not just because Yoo Joonghyuk is the campus heartthrob and Kim Dokja is the one who gets to see him everyday, and not because Yoo Joonghyuk is the perfect house husband, cleaning and cooking because he banned Kim Dokja from doing both. 

While both those things are nice, the best part about having Yoo Joonghyuk as his roommate is stealing his shirts. 

Not to do anything weird! They’re just… comfortable.

He even got permission! For the first few, at least. 

It all starts because Yoo Joonghyuk was going to throw out perfectly good shirts that have been worn and washed enough to become soft, the type of softness that even the most high quality shirts can’t capture. They weren’t dirty, or torn, just old. So Kim Dokja protests this and tries to get Yoo Joonghyuk to keep them, only for him to scowl and throw the shirts at him.

“You keep them then,” he said, then left. And Kim Dokja did. 

He’s well aware that wearing his hot roommate’s shirts might be (is) weird, so he only wears them on long nights when he needs some extra comfort to get him through his last assignments, or when Yoo Joonghyuk isn’t home. He never wears them when Yoo Joonghyuk might see. He’d rather die. 

And because his wonderful roommate is out for the night, no doubt at a party celebrating his latest gaming tournament win, Kim Dokja is settled in for a long night of reading, curled up on the couch in one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s old shirts. It’s long enough to reach down past his thighs, so he doesn’t bother wearing pants, and a blanket over his shoulders helps with the chill his exposed collarbones bring. 

The apartment is quiet, most people out or sleeping, and the latest update of his favorite web novel is a long one. And should he get hungry, there’s dinner in the fridge, courtesy of Yoo Joonghyuk who is very determined to get Kim Dokja eating more regularly. 

It’s been too long since he was able to be so relaxed and comfortable. No urgent deadlines, no projects to stress about, no tests in the near future hanging over his head like a guillotine. 

He’s so comfortable that halfway through the chapter he’s reading, Kim Dokja begins nodding off. The living room is gradually getting darker as the sun begins to set, and he sees no reason why he shouldn’t take a nap; his sleep schedule is fucked anyways, a little rest won’t hurt him at all.

The sound of the door opening rouses him. 

Distantly, Kim Dokja hears a lock click and a heavy sigh, but half-awake, he can’t be sure if it’s real or part of a dream. 

He opens sleep-heavy eyes to a dark living room; he must have been sleeping for a few hours, long enough for the sun to fully set and the moon to shine brightly. His entire body feels heavy and slow. 

Slowly, Kim Dokja sits up, the blanket falling off his shoulders to pool around his hips. He stretches his arms up above his head, arching his spine a bit, drawing out the stretch as he shakes off the last of his nap. 

Behind him, someone chokes. 

Startled, Kim Dokja drops his arms and turns to see Yoo Joonghyuk standing in front of the hallway, staring at him with wide eyes. He’s… shirtless. Kim Dokja quickly looks away. 

“When did you get back?” he asks, trying to break the strange tension that suddenly fills the apartment.

Yoo Joonghyuk is silent for a few moments before Kim Dokja hears him step closer. “Just a few minutes ago. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. Is it late?”

The light turns on suddenly and Kim Dokja winces, blinking to clear the spots from his vision. 

“It’s only nine.” 

Huh. He wasn’t asleep for too long then. He feels the couch dip and looks up to see Yoo Joonghyuk sitting right next to him instead of anywhere else on their rather large couch. He’s staring at Kim Dokja’s chest, which makes him shift uncomfortably. 

He glances down to see what has Yoo Joonghyuk’s attention. There’s no stains or anything…

Then his heart stops for a solid minute. He’s wearing Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirt. And Yoo Joonghyuk knows it’s his old shirt because it’s way too big for Kim Dokja! 

Please don’t bring it up, Kim Dokja mentally begs, trying to send the plea into Yoo Joonghyuk’s head. 

“Isn’t that one of my old shirts?” he asks. Telepathy has failed. Kim Dokja changes to Plan B which is Fake His Death And Start A New Life. 

“Uh. Yeah. You gave it to me,” Kim Dokja answers, hoping Yoo Joonghyuk won’t think he’s weird and kick him out. He’s not willing to give up the best roommate he’s ever had! He just can’t go back to living with the worst people in existence, who treat him horribly and steal his things. He just can’t. 

“I’ve never seen you wear them,” Yoo Joonghyuk says instead of demanding that Kim Dokja move out. 

“I don’t wear them often.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes dart farther down. “You’re also not wearing pants.”

Kim Dokja pulls the blanket over his legs and tries to pretend Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t just say that. “Well, you’re not wearing a shirt! You’re only wearing…” he trails off, finally letting himself look at Yoo Joonghyuk. Those sweatpants look familiar. They look just like the ones he thought he lost months ago. “...Isn’t that mine?”

“...Our laundry must have gotten mixed up.”

That’s a lie. Yoo Joonghyuk is not one to mix up their laundry. They’ve never accidentally taken each other’s clothes. 

Kim Dokja smiles and Yoo Joonghyuk looks away, his ears turning red. “Joonghyuk-ah,” he says sweetly in a way that Yoo Joonghyuk knows is a threat.

“I don’t see why I can’t have some of your clothes if you have mine.”

“My clothes don’t fit you! And besides, isn’t it strange for us to be sharing clothes?”

“No. You should wear my clothes more often. You look good in them.”

Kim Dokja has no response to that. He freezes, then ducks his head, trying to hide his quickly warming cheeks. 

Yoo Joonghyuk, the bastard that he is, doesn’t let Kim Dokja hide. He wraps an arm around Kim Dokja’s waist and pulls him closer, hard enough to send him falling against his side. “Stop being so shy and wear my shirts while I’m around.”

“Shut up. Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?”

“I got bored and left early. I prefer being here with you.”

“Don’t think sweet talking is going to make me forget about you stealing my sweatpants.”

“Oh?” Yoo Joonghyuk runs a large hand down Kim Dokja’s spine, making him shiver. “What should I do then?”

“Nothing!” Kim Dokja hits his chest, but makes no moves to put any space between them. He is not going to be thinking about why. “Anyways, aren’t you tired? You should go to sleep since you spent hours at that tournament. Congratulations on another win, by the way.”

Smiling, Yoo Joonghyuk leans closer, forcing Kim Dokja to bend back a bit, putting more of his weight on Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm. “You were watching?”

“I always watch when you compete. What’s the point of having a popular gamer for a roommate if I can’t brag about him?”

Without another word, Yoo Joonghyuk collapses on top of him, crushing him against the couch.

“Hey!” Kim Dokja flails, then smacks Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. “What’s that for!”

“You’re right, I am tired.”

“Then go to bed!” 

Yoo Joonghyuk tightens his grip on Kim Dokja’s waist, then nuzzles into his neck. The feeling of his hair brushing against his neck makes Kim Dokja shiver, not quite tickling him but just enough to have the sensation send sparks down his spine. 

He sighs softly, and feeling it against his skin brings a deep blush to Kim Dokja’s cheeks. “I’d prefer to stay here for the night,” Yoo Joonghyuk says. Kim Dokja grumbles about being squished beneath the heavy weight of his body, but ultimately decides to indulge himself and stay. 

They stay like that, sleeping on the couch, all through the night. They both wake with stiff necks in the morning, but Kim Dokja doesn’t mind at all when it lets him stay in Yoo Joonghyuk’s embrace a little longer.

Things change after that. 

Kim Dokja wouldn’t call them friends, per se. Not before That Night. Roommates, yes. Acquaintances who get along well, yes. Friends? No. 

But now, he’s not too sure what to call their relationship. They live together so they have to spend some time together, but school keeps them both busy and Kim Dokja often spends his time at the library with Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah while Yoo Joonghyuk streams and goes to tournaments. 

It’s more accurate to say they exist in the same space, than to say that they spend time together. 

They get along well enough, which is why they’ve renewed their lease together for another year, but somehow, after That Night Yoo Joonghyuk is suddenly… sticky.

He’s constantly making food for them. More so than before. He asks for Kim Dokja’s preferences instead of just silently handing him a plate?

Kim Dokja stares at the box of pasta in his hands. He doesn’t understand why he’s grocery shopping with Yoo Joonghyuk, but he’s gone with it for too long and can’t ask any questions now.

“Did you want pasta?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks, appearing behind him without warning. Kim Dokja jumps a little, then glares at him, annoyed by how amused he looks.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I can just buy instant noodles.”

Scowling, Yoo Joonghyuk grabs the box of pasta from his hands and adds it to the cart. “Absolutely not. I’ll make noodles for you later.”

���You can make noodles from scratch?”

“It’s not hard.”

Kim Dokja would marry Yoo Joonghyuk right that very second if asked. He also doesn’t understand why Yoo Joonghyuk is suddenly spoiling him, but he’s not going to question a good thing. He’s going to get as much as he can out of this, because who knows when it will end?

So he bumps his hip against Yoo Joonghyuk’s with a smile as they walk down the aisle, and asks, “Can we get ice cream?”

Yoo Joonghyuk does not answer for a long minute, then glances at Kim Dokja’s hopeful expression and sighs. “Fine.”

He really is getting spoiled.

Kim Dokja fully intends to use this knowledge for evil.

Another thing that’s changed: clothes. 

Since Kim Dokja didn’t complain enough about his sweatpants being stolen before he fell asleep, Yoo Joonghyuk decided he could just take Kim Dokja’s most comfortable sweatpants and wear them whenever he wants. So what if he looks really good! They’re still Kim Dokja’s and he will hold this grudge for as long as he needs to. 

He intends to steal more of Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirts as revenge, except he doesn’t need to steal anything. Because Yoo Joonghyuk just leaves his shirts in Kim Dokja’s room. So he wears them and tries not to get flustered when Yoo Joonghyuk stares at him each time he walks out of his room wearing something Yoo Joonghyuk left him. 

It’s a losing battle.

On the bright side, he no longer has to hide it. It’s still embarrassing, but he’s getting more and more used to lounging in the living room in Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirts. 

The hungry look Yoo Joonghyuk gives him is also nice to see. 

Kim Dokja may be the king of denial, but even he can’t lie to himself with how obvious Yoo Joonghyuk is being. Nor can he pretend that he isn’t doing this for that exact reason, or spending more time at the apartment to be with him. 

They’re both pushing in little ways, but it’s not enough for him to be willing to push their relationship out of the cloud of ambiguity its currently in. 

Before he knows it, half his closet is Yoo Joonghyuk’s clothes, and he has to go to Yoo Joonghyuk’s room to grab a pair of sweatpants to study in because all of them got stolen. The rude bastard really has no shame. 

“Why don’t we just keep our clothes in the same room?” Yoo Joonghyuk suggests after Kim Dokja complains to him about this. 

“Whose room?”

“Mine. Just take all your things into my room. I’ll make space for you.”

And so Kim Dokja suddenly finds himself sharing a room with Yoo Joonghyuk. And then sharing a bed. And then waking up with him to his absurdly early alarm. 

They’re not dating, and he says as much to Han Sooyoung when talking about this; she just rolls her eyes and calls him and idiot for not realizing what’s going on. 

She has absolutely no room to talk, being in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Yoo Sangah instead of just asking her out on a date like normal people would. 

They’re not dating, but Kim Dokja leans into him when they watch a movie together after rejecting a party invite. They’re not dating, but Yoo Joonghyuk kisses his cheek each morning before he gets up to make breakfast. They’re not dating, but Kim Dokja will settle into Yoo Joonghyuk’s lap while wearing nothing but one of his shirts to finish a reading for one of his classes. 

They’re not dating, but he certainly wants to. 

However, Kim Dokja would sooner pass away then actually talk about his feelings, so he bottles it up, greedily hoards all the affection he gets from Yoo Joonghyuk, and hopes he makes his move soon because Kim Dokja is starting to get impatient.

In the meantime, he’ll steal another shirt and pretend he didn’t do it on purpose just to get Yoo Joonghyuk to look at him. 

[tester2080]

Coming as a surprise to absolutely nobody, COP26 accomplished fuck all

16/11/21

Tags: Politics, Complaining

In case you somehow haven't heard, COP26 was a UN climate meeting, where quite a few world leaders were in attendance. The goal of the conference was to reduce climate emissions and halt the effects of climate change. Scientists were hoping for a 1.5 degrees Celsius limit by 2050, as this would stop the worst effects of climate change. Also a forewarning, this will likely turn into a rant because I am fucking pissed off with this shit.

Starting off on an incredibly strong foot in terms of stopping climate change, India announced they had pushed their 2050 carbon neutral pledge back to 2070, and China to 2060... Fantastic. For years I've been saying the 2050 milestone is bad and it seems like I was right. When you set a milestone so far out in the future adding years on doesn't seem like a significant change (even though it definitely is) - after all, what's the difference between 2050 and 2055, or 2060, or 2070? They all seem equally far out, so what does it matter right? Well the 2050 limit is pretty much the last year where we can achieve net zero without huge lasting effects. So every 5 or 10 or 20 years, whilst it may not seem like it now, will make an absolutely huge difference in the long run. 2050 is always presented as the main milestone for climate change. Sure, 2030 is discussed often too, but 2050 is definitely the main one. However, having such a vital milestone so far away also makes it incredibly difficult for the general public to see how well the governments are managing climate change. Whereas if annual, or targets like 2025 or whatever were prioritised it would be really easy for the people to see how well (or as is usually the case - badly) their governments are managing things. All you'd need do is look at the carbon dioxide produced that year, and then compare it with that years target. But with 2050 who the fuck knows. Is the average person going to be plotting graphs and using statistical analysis to find out how we're looking for the 2050 goals? Absolutely not, and I certainly can't blame them for it.

You've also probably heard people talking about how fantastic COP26 was for stopping fossil fuels. So what did it do about them? Well it was originally intended to state that coal will be phased out by 2050, but because that would actually put some pressure on world leaders and fossil fuel companies, and we couldn't have that, instead it was changed to be phased down by 2050. Really??? This shit is getting praised. Could not have written anything more vague. Oh man can't wait for fossil fuel companies to announce how they reduced their use by 1% by 2050 and proudly say how they've done their part. It's not even a restriction it's a fucking open ended request. Now why was something so fucking useless praised so much by world leaders? It's because this is the first time fossil fuels have been mentioned in a UN climate agreement (Yes, there have been 26 of them). That's right. This is the first time fossil fuels have been mentioned IN A FUCKING CLIMATE CHANGE AGREEMENT. WHAT. THIS IS THE SHIT THAT'S GETTING PRAISE FOR BEING THE "DEATH KNELL FOR COAL"???? THIS???? IT BEING FUCKING MENTIONED????? Fossil fuels are undeniably one of the largest contributors to climate change and yet this is the first time it's been mentioned? What the fuck were they talking about in the other 25 meetings? Were they just sitting in a circle jerking themselves off about how scary nuclear power is? What the fuck?

What we need is clear, annual deadlines, which have actual consequences for not being met. We need to focus on closer milestones like 2025 or 2030, rather than the useless 2050 one. We need to hold corporations accountable and we need strict carbon taxes for them. We need more nuclear power, and a huge reduction in fossil fuels. There is no way we're going to beat climate change with vague deadlines, restrictions that nobody enforces, and deadlines 29 years away.

And yet, politicians aren't going to do this, because they get paid not to. Large corporations, ran by CEOs and shareholders who know they aren't going to be too badly affected by climate change, will time and time again pay several million and boom. Stopping climate change has been pushed back another 5 years. Sorry inhabitants of the fucking planet whos homes, and livelihoods, and lives are at risk, there's more profits to be made for the ultra rich :). We've literally reverted back to feudalism. What kind of democracy lets the leaders decide to go against the best interests of the people for personal gain. What difference would it make if we just replaced US congress and president with a king? Like... really? What difference would it make. They'd still just continue to act in their best interests, just perhaps with less acting. Carbon targets would still get missed, housing would still be a massive problem, the people wouldn't be cared for, and we, the people, could do fuck all about any of it.

It's genuinely awful how just powerless we are. Like, we're all going to be severely affected by climate change, but the most we can do is protest and boycott, stuff that politicians and corporations can easily ignore. We just have to sit and hope that at some stage it becomes more profitable for companies to save the planet than to destroy it, god knows they won't stop doing it otherwise. How awful is that. Our lives are ruled by profits, and the only consideration for our health and well being is surrounded around how badly us all fucking dying would affect their bottom line. Fucks sake.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Dearly beloved, Haha, it's fine. Japanese is not easy to master. I don't even know all the Kanjis, therefore I'm not a master at it too (lmao) We could study together if you get back. I wonder if you ever do. Please get some rest soon. He'll understand, I think. But please, rest. You deserve it. Have you taken any medications yet? You gotta have some or those migraines are gonna get worst. I remember having a migraine for a week and not taking any medications because it was an exam week. I was stupid thinking that medications would make me tired and I was afraid that I'd forget everything I learned. Again, me being and thinking dramatically. Well, at least, that about me hasn't changed. The dorms are just something I'm not used to yet. My batchmates are fine, just the seniors. Can't complain but oh well. Remember the friend I told you about? He's first in command of taking care of the batch. I'm his assistant. He's a great leader, that's why I am worried. He's different a bit and I wanna know why so maybe I could help. But, oh well, maybe it's just me overthinking. I'm in a bit worried state right now. One of my friends is in the hospital. Turns out, he will get surgery soon. I came to visit him and when I left, he gave me a thumbs up with a smile. God, why is this happening to him? Talking about friends, I am at one of my friends place with some other friends. We're here to hang out and celebrate Christmas together soon. And yes, I'm staying here. I think that you won't come back for Christmas because of the 'tall man'. It's fine. I hope you have a great Christmas! Don't stress too much! Have fun! Anyways, ah motel TVs. They're not really that bad for me. They just don't have our preferred content. My cat just gave a meow hahaha. I was watching football while writing this. It was the AFF Suzuki Cup. Cheering for Malaysia. They just won with 2-0 goals playing against Cambodia. In conclusion, well played. Cambodia has good players. I'm looking forward to another match between these two. I felt happy or overwhelmed, to be precise when I received your letter from Elsie. I have to thank her for this. Wish you were here too. This is the last letter that you'll receive before my study chart goes high again. I am back it the caffeine marathon baby~ Tim, get some rest, eat well and stay hydrated. Hope this letter finds you well <3 Sincerely, yours, Kayte.

To Elsie, Thank you for doing this. It's very sweet! Don't stress too much k? Rest if you need to! And my friends said 'Hi'! They were here when I wanted to send this ^^ They asked if you write anything else and I told them you did. They read some of it. They told me your writings are ✨G R E A T✨as well as your doodles~ DRINK WATER AND EATT <3 Sincerely, @caffeineaddicted-noonie

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those you Hold Dear is a special event I'm holding from December 9th - whenever I feel like closing it! The absolute deadline is December 21st. Find guidelines here so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3]

Hey there sweetheart,

Spending time with you is perfect in my opinion. Whether we're studying new languages or talking on the rooftop, it's all really good to me. Thanks for reminding me about my meds, I've been... busy... Kinda forgetting them. Probably why the coughing fits have been acting up so bad recently. Wish you could see the eye roll I just did. If you're a drama diva, you're my drama diva. You make things interesting, and well, i love you. Don't know if you're overthinking it, if I'm being honest. Working with new people in positions of power can be really hard, trust me, I know. Every now and then the tall guy has us merge teams and let's just say that's less than fun depending on the leader. Some proxies don't bend for anything and I hate them for it. Still, I think you'll be alright. You always are.

I hope your friend stays safe as well. If he was introduced to this life, I would've sent him over to EJ. Man can help anyone given the right equipment. Tell your friends I said hi an that I hope you guys do festive things together. Tall guy might give us a window of time soon, but if I miss Christmas on the actual day, we'll just celebrate it a little later - no harm no foul. We deserve to do cute couple shit too haha.

We watch the local news most days. It's kinda abysmal because none of us even care and we hide our work so well that it's not even giving us the satisfaction of reporting on it. Toby is slowly going mad over it. Don't blame him. If we hear about the weather one more time... Y'know, I wish I knew more about that stuff. But go Malaysia! When I was younger, I liked basketball. Hoodie did too, we used to play often and we were... he was better at it than I was but that's because the man is a giraffe. Elsie got Jeff's dog to ferry the messages across, said it was just "her job", and no need for thanks but... When I see her I'll pass that on for you. I'm going to miss your words bunches. Good luck with your studying and literally everything else, but I know you got this. Get some rest yourself, and dream of me!

Yours,

Tim

P.S. I love you.

Hi love bug,

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're finding enjoyment in this special event. I thought it would be nice for the holidays. Honestly I like writing letters to people. 5/10 if I have something important to talk about with someone, whether it be friendship problems, good things, bad, I'll send it in letter format because I find it... nice. i haven't done that in a while so writing these to make you guys happy is a nice resolve. Tell your friends I said hello, that I think that's very kind of them, and a huge thank you! Take care of yourself as well.

Lots of love,

Elsie

[neverdoingmuch]

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him 

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws 

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go  sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by. 

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that 

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company 

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

[reidscookies]

All The Things I Could Not Say

More writing is done, because I procrastinate best when doing things that have no deadline. Read it on AO3, or under the cut! Angst with a happy ending!

Summary: When Spencer heard a knock at the door, he thought Derek might have forgotten his keys again.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

-

Or, William Reid hears about Spencer's engagement, and wants to know where his invitation is.

TW: Implied Domestic Violence, Implied Child Neglect.

Read it on AO3

When Spencer heard a knock at the door, he thought Derek might have forgotten his keys again. It had been known to happen, and Spencer was already forming some sort of way to tease his fiancé. Opening the door, he started with a small chuckle. “You’re no better than Emily-“

On the doorstep was not his fiancé, but William Reid. His hair was thinner, and he looked tired. His long trench coat practically consumed him, his chest puffed trying to seem bigger than he really was. “Spencer.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, mouth going dry.

William motioned his arm towards the foyer. “May I come in?”

Too shocked to say anything else, Spencer stepped aside. “I… Sure, I guess…”

They sat in the living room, Spencer taking his reading chair and curling into it for comfort. His father sat on the sofa, hands nervously wringing. “So, I read the news that you go engaged. It was in the alumni section for your school's old newspaper.”

Spencer groaned internally, recalling Penelope’s efforts to share the news with the entire world. “Yeah, I am. We’re getting married in October.”

William nodded, slightly awkward. “That’s nice, very nice. Um, where, though? And when?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see how that concerns you, seeing as you haven’t been invited. And I don’t plan for you to be.”

William narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be nasty, Spencer.”

“Screw you, William! Screw you!”

“Don’t be nasty, Diana.”

“Don’t talk to me like a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

A crash came from the kitchen. A slap followed directly after. In the morning, Spencer would find his father’s favorite mug shattered on the counter, and the shape of his father’s hand marked red across his mother’s cheek.

Spencer’s expression became hard and cold. “Never say that to me again. Don’t ever speak to me like that. Being honest is not being nasty. While you were busy running away from us, I was a child learning to survive with no father, a mother who grew to need more assistance than her ten-year-old son could provide.”

William crossed his arms. “You know why I left! I’ve explained this to you before.”

“Yes, because you couldn’t bear the idea of Mom getting in trouble about Gary Michaels. See, I’ve thought about this, and I think there’s more to it than that. If you’d been discovered, Lou Jenkins would have gone to jail. Mom would likely have been institutionalized. Both of these have happened anyway, only it’s been 20 years. The only difference now is that Mom has not been charged as an accessory to murder.”

“Spencer, where are you going with this?” William asked, voice shaking slightly.

Spencer paced with ease around the room. “You didn’t really care what would happen to her if she had been discovered back then. Hell, you weren’t even concerned as to how Mom being institutionalized could affect me as a child. No, you only cared about your reputation.” He looked back at his father. “Congratulations, your good name remains intact, not to mention a now relatively successful son who you brag about to your coworkers but never seem to have had the time to return calls to when he was living at home.”

William was red in the face at this point. “You don’t understand. Spencer, I couldn’t stay, I had to get out of there. I kept tabs on you to make sure you were safe, don’t you realize I care about you?”

A cold, barking laugh tore itself from Spencer’s throat. “Care? When have you ever shown me that you cared, genuinely? Was it when you’d tell me to shut up when I was trying to share something I learned about things you liked? Was it when you forced me into little league even though I told you the helmet made my ears hurt? Was it when you sent Mom by herself to pick me up from first grade when you knew that type of social scenario would be too difficult for her? Was it when you left the invitation to my Doctoral Thesis presentation in the mailbox long enough for it to come back to me with “Return to Sender” stamped all over it?” He felt his eyes burn slightly. “Was it when you weren’t there when I had Mom taken to Bennington? God, Dad, I was eighteen! Don’t you understand how scared I was?! How scared I had been for eight years trying to keep both myself and Mom above water?!”

“God, you sound just like your mother, poison tongue and all!” William shouted before thinking. “Spencer-“

Spencer interrupted him. “The thing is, I used to want you to care. I used to hope and dream that you’d come home and help me. But I grew up, despite the bullying and the bills and Mom’s decline, I pulled both of us out to safety. And I have a family now! I have a wonderful family of friends who care, who put up with me despite my facts and lectures, who truly care about what I have to say. I’m engaged, I have a wonderful fiancé who doesn’t ask me to change anything about who I am or how I am. He brings out the best in me when I’m at my worst, he stays despite my “poison tongue” and when I get overly invested in my work. When I write to Mom, he signs the letters too, and a lot of times he’ll even add a few pages of his own. He knows every part of me, he is the person I want to be with for the rest of my life. So no, Dad, I didn’t send you an invitation. Partially because I honestly didn’t think you’d come, but mostly because I don’t need you there. I have who I need, and it’s not you.”

William was stunned into silence. Clearing his throat, he straightened his coat. “Well, then. If that’s how it is.”

“That’s how it is.” Spencer nodded. He looked towards the door where Derek stood quietly with the grocery bags.

Derek had a look of concern on his face, but he kept it relatively masked in front of William. “Everything okay?”

Spencer nodded. “He was just leaving.” He lead William to the door, thinking to himself that his father wasn’t unlike a dog with its tail between its legs. When the front door closed, it was like a note of finality. Something was done, and honestly, it felt good.

Spencer grabbed one of the grocery bags and headed for the kitchen, starting to put items away. “How much did you hear, Derek?”

Derek joined him, putting the milk and juice in the refrigerator. “I only got back a few minutes ago, but probably about the part when you were talking about who your family is now.”

Spencer hummed, folding the reusable bags and placing them in the corner. “He heard about the wedding from the local newspaper announcement Garcia insisted on. He wanted to know why he hadn’t received his invitation.”

“Well, you made it abundantly clear that he isn’t going to be getting one.” Derek said, moving closer. “Need a hug?”

Spencer smiled and let Derek hold him close. “Honestly, love, I really am okay. I was able to say a lot of things I never thought I’d get a chance to. Him leaving is always going to hurt in a lot of ways, but he’s made his choice. I think it’s okay that I get to make mine, too, and that includes who I have in my family.”

Derek gave him a soft kiss on his forehead. “I absolutely think it’s okay for you to make those choices. You’ve got us, baby, no matter what.” He looked at his watch. “You still up for meeting everyone for dinner? Or do you need it to be just us tonight?”

Spencer thought for a moment. “Would you mind if we invited everyone here for pizza instead? I don’t want to go out, but I want my family with me.”

“You’ve got it, pretty boy. I’ll let them know.” Derek gently pulled away and grabbed his phone to reach out to the team. Spencer smiled to himself, letting all traces of his father’s unwelcome visit start to ease off his mind. He had what he needed, and there was no way he would ever change it for anything.

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated? 

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame. 

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.  

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.  

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.  

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you. 

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.  

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”  

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.  

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee. 

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.  

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares. 

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”  

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

Was he? Flirting?  

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.  

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.  

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.  

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”  

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.  

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you.  In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.  

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.  

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.  

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.  

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.  

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.  

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.  

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.  

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”  

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.  

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”  

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”  

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”  

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile.  Ah, there it is.  

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”  

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.  

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.  

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.  

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”  

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.  

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”  

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”  

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”  

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”  

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?” 

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”  

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight. 

Let’s see where this goes. 

Chapter 2

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

--

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?” 

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?” 

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!” 

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.” 

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded. 

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.” 

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette. 

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.” 

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.” 

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?” 

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.” 

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.” 

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart. 

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.” 

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?” 

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said. 

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later. 

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.” 

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?” 

“K.” 

“Did I do something?” 

“K” 

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” 

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.” 

“K” 

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated. 

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him. 

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected. 

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly. 

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands. 

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office. 

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk! 

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!” 

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.” 

“I hope you do.” 

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances. 

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket. 

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival. 

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open. 

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through. 

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing. 

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally. 

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen. 

He didn’t have his dimples. 

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.” 

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.” 

“I have been, I apologize.” 

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.” 

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing. 

“Are you going to sit?” 

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap. 

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.” 

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?” 

She shrugged. 

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

“Doing?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.” 

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?” 

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.” 

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.” 

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.” 

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”  

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?” 

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?” 

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.” 

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.” 

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt. 

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there. 

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly. 

“What?” 

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.” 

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.” 

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time. 

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around. 

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out. 

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall. 

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation. 

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.” 

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.” 

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her. 

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking? 

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong. 

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.” 

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.” 

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.” 

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!” 

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead. 

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake. 

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

--

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 132

Yes, I know... it’s late again :(

I realized at about 1030a this morning, when I was 30 miles and a minimum of 7 hours from my computer. The guilt was real.

Also, I recently upgraded computers, so I apologize for any editing errors.  Honestly, I don’t have my preferred word processing program on here to check and make sure all my flavor editing is done correctly, so I’m probably going to come back and re-do it when that’s available.  However, I PRIDE myself on the fact that I may post a few hours late, but never the next day! (even though my deadline is technically Tues or Thurs each week?. I dunno)

Quick kudos to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog for being my writing team!

The next morning, I staggered into work very much regretting the onions that I dared to put on the table the night before - I had only gotten a few hours sleep the night before thanks to two rather tall men who shared a tendency to snore like congested warthogs. Fortunately, Vati and Hannah were off today, so I didn’t have to hide the gargantuan yawns every few minutes.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t spared from the sarcastic wit of my assistant, who breezed in the door and simply arched an eyebrow at me. “Hmm, having a coffee day, I see.”

“I can’t look that tired,” I grumbled, shoving my hair out of my face and sulking into my cup - which unfortunately did contain coffee, as predicted.

“You do smell that tired, I am afraid.  And by you, I mean the deplorable muck you are drinking.”

Alistair wasn’t a fan of coffee, obviously, but I was admittedly drinking a really strong cup of it. “The guys had a terrifying amount of onions with dinner last night,” I confessed.

To my satisfaction, he wrinkled his nose. “Delightful.” He also despised onions, more so than he did coffee. “Fortunately, you have quite a sparse schedule this morning.”

Shaking my head, I broke the news to him. “Change of plans. Xio got the list of shelter locations back to me and Tyche yesterday, ironically after we had been complaining about not having them. Pretty sure she was listening in.”

The eyebrow arched again. “Another ‘sensor test’, I assume?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I shrugged. “We wanted the list, we got the list. And an ersatz apology in the form of which area can hold how many people, which makes our end much easier.  Bump it up against a map of who is closest to which location, and half our work is done.”

I flicked the list to the emitter on the conference table, and got started. Since Parvati and Hannah were up to their eyeballs in their plotting for the Food Festival, and our job had been significantly lightened in regards to deciding shelter locations, I made the executive decision to take the lead on this project and pull in Tyche for assistance if Alistair and I needed it.  Maybe Arthur if I got desperate for extra help, but working with him and Alistair at the same time was chancy at best - they spent so much time snarking at each other, it could be harder to get work done than if I did it alone sometimes.

Soon, Alistair and I had a map of the Ark, with all shelter locations highlighted and the data from Xiomara’s report overlaid. I had my head down, programming the shelter locations to change color when the capacity limits Xiomara provided were reached, when Alistair noticed something. “Why, pray tell, are the Archives on this map?”

I didn’t even look up. “Probably because it’s the furthest location on the ship from the real-space engines, so it’s the safest place if someone tries to blow those.”

“You are mistaken.” He tapped on the table to get my attention. “The Archives are right on top of the engines, which is why it was available for use: when it was empty, the room was so noisy it was difficult to be in there for more than a handful of minutes.”

Shaking my head, I tapped the ‘front’ of the ship to highlight it. “These are the real-space engines, apparently. When we drop out of relativistic space, these will fire to start slowing us down as we approach Von. These,” I tapped the ‘back’ of the ship, “Are the relativistic engines, which we are using now, which is why that room was so loud when you found it.  According to Noah, for safety purposes, they are housed at opposite ends of the ship.  Also, pretty sure no one is going to try to blow the relativistic engines.  Something quantum physics related that made sense but I would probably explain it wrong.  Big boom, big shrink, no survivors is the gist.”

The disgusted look he gave my explanation was glorious. “So people will be in the Archives, no doubt touching things.”

“They’re books, Alistair. They are meant to be touched and read.” Glancing at the map, I was actually impressed - I never realized how large the Archives were.  They made up nearly an entire deck, albeit the second-smallest on the Ark. “Hang on, someone is already assigned there? Did you do that?”

He scoffed. “I certainly did not, I assumed you had.”

“Nope.  Must have been Xiomara,” I trailed off before tapping the icon indicating an assignment to see who it was.

I started to smile, only to be scared out of my mind by Alistair suddenly shouting. “NO! Absolutely not, I will go tell Councillor Kalloe myself. I - I shall duel her if need be! I refuse to allow this to occur.”

“Alistair, if you duel Xiomara, you’ll probably wind up dead. You know that right?”

“It is only over my dead body that you will be sheltering the Archives. Absolutely not.”

“I’m not going to hurt your precious books, you know that. If anything, I’ll be able to make sure no one else does, either.”

“Not going to hurt the books!?” he nearly shrieked.  I was starting to worry about how hysterical he was getting before he pinched his nose and took a few breaths to calm down. “Madam Reid, I am aware that you will not, through deliberate action or mischance, directly harm a single item in that Archive. I am equally aware that there are certain things that you are distressingly oblivious to, one of which being your own poor luck, if events that take place after being rescued from a global infrastructure collapse can count as poor luck. I shall endeavor to clarify to you why I am so concerned with this.”

Uh oh. He was being very formal.  This was never a good thing.

Before I could object, however, he forged on. “This entire planning exercise is aimed at what, precisely?”

“Designating shelters for non-combatants,” I answered slowly, confused.

“Shelters in the event of what?”

“If we are forcefully boarded in the month after we drop out of relativistic space?”

“Correct.  Which is clearly a bad thing, true?”

“True…”

“And what, remind me, do you have a tendency to do when bad things happen?”

“Plow into the middle of them, which is probably why Xiomara wants me as far from potential combat as possible, so I can’t - “

“Dying, Madam Reid. You have a tendency of dying.”

“Almost dying,” I corrected meekly.  I could unfortunately see where this was going.

“Whenever bad things happen on the Ark, the bad things find you,” he almost hissed. “And I would rather that they not find you in the middle of the only books - potentially the only artifacts, period - that we have from Earth.”

“It may distract them from killing me?” I pointed out.

The glare he gave me rivalled Tyche at her worst.  I probably would have been flattened, had I not built up immunity to far more vicious gazes. “No, this won’t do at all. I must speak to Councillor Kalloe immediately.  And quite likely to Farro.  Let me update the less-endangered Reid that she shall need to arrive early to assist you…”

Any attempt I made to try to dissuade him from the abrupt shortening of his lifespan was ultimately ignored.  As he tried to breeze past my sister, I resorted to grabbing his sleeve and physically stopping him. “Alistair!  You cannot go fight Xiomara to make her put me somewhere else! It’s not worth it!”

He stopped in his tracks, confusion flooding his face. “Somewhere else?  Madam Reid - please unhand me, thank you - whatever gave you that impression?”

“You - the books - dying… I’m so confused. What are you going to fight Xio about, then?”

“I cannot argue the logic of keeping you as far from the engines as possible, nor the logic of placing you as close to something that would deter any invading parties from making rash or reckless decisions.  It is likely quite safer for the ship, in all honesty.”

“Then…?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I am going to speak to Xiomara about removing myself from the non-combatant list and instead being one of the persons assigned to the Archives to defend it from any hostile parties,” he admitted.  “Farro will need to help me brush up on defensive techniques, but I am certain it will be easier to keep the Archives from disaster if I protect it myself.”

“Hey!” Tyche objected. “I’m already assigned to the Archives! She’ll be safe!”

Turning on a heel, he waved a hand over his shoulder dismissively. “You protect your sister from invaders. I shall protect the Archives from her.”

As the door closed behind him, she gave me a baffled look. “Long story,” I sighed. “I’ll explain while we start allocating people.”

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[geckosong]

Anime Recommendations

Here is a list of ten anime (in no particular order) that are definitely worth watching, yet don’t seem to get nearly as much recognition as they deserve. 

Terror in Resonance (2014)

This is my personal favorite anime and I push people to watch it whenever I can, which is exactly what I’m doing here.

This show is set-in present-day Tokyo, which has been decimated by a terrorist attack, and the only hint to the identities of the culprits is a bizarre video uploaded on the internet. For the majority of the show the plot follows two different narratives: those of the investigators tasked with bringing down the terrorists, and of the terrorists themselves.

           My Rating: 10/10

Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun (2020)

This anime is probably one of my favorites, if not my number one, in terms of art style. I love everything about the character designs and the colors used. It is just so soothing to look at.

The famous "Seven Wonders" that every school seems to have are a staple of Japanese urban legends. One of the most well-known of these tales is that of Hanako-san: Rumors claim that if one successfully manages to summon Hanako-san, the ghost of a young girl who haunts the school's bathrooms, she will grant her summoner any wish. When Nene Yashiro, a girl hoping for romantic fortune, dares to summon Hanako-san, she discovers that the rumored "girl" is actually a boy! After a series of unfortunate events involving Nene's romantic desires, she is unwillingly entangled in the world of the supernatural, becoming Hanako-kun's assistant. Soon, she finds out about Hanako-kun's lesser-known duty: maintaining the fragile balance between mortals and apparitions.

My Rating: 8/10

Kids on the Slope (2012)

If you love jazz, or history, or even heartwarming tales of friendship then this is the show for you. I will admit that is has a bit of a slow start, but by the time you get to the end you’ll be wishing for more.

In 1966, introverted classical pianist and top student Kaoru Nishimi has just arrived in Kyushu for his first year of high school. Having constantly moved from place to place since his childhood, he abandons all hope of fitting in, preparing himself for another lonely, meaningless year. That is, until he encounters the notorious delinquent Sentarou Kawabuchi.    

Sentarou's immeasurable love for jazz music inspires Kaoru to learn more about the genre, and as a result, he slowly starts to break out of his shell, making his very first friend. Kaoru begins playing the piano at after-school jazz sessions, located in the basement of fellow student Ritsuko Mukae's family-owned record shop. As he discovers the immense joy of using his musical talents to bring enjoyment to himself and others, Kaoru's summer might just crescendo into one that he will remember forever.

My Rating: 6/10

Hyouka (2012)

Energy-conservative high school student Houtarou Oreki ends up with more than he bargained for when he signs up for the Classics Club at his sister's behest—especially when he realizes how deep-rooted the club's history really is. Begrudgingly, Oreki is dragged into an investigation concerning the 45-year-old mystery that surrounds the club room.

Accompanied by his fellow club members, the knowledgeable Satoshi Fukube, the stern but benign Mayaka Ibara, and the ever-curious Eru Chitanda, Oreki must combat deadlines and lack of information with resourcefulness and hidden talent, in order to not only find the truth buried beneath the dust of works created years before them, but of other small side cases as well.

           My Rating: 6/10

Tonari no Seki-Kun: The Master of Killing Time (2014)

I absolutely adore this show. The episodes are only about 8 minutes long, and there is very little talking, yet the story still comes through perfectly. It never fails to brighten my day when I’m feeling down.

All Rumi Yokoi wants to do is focus during school, but she is constantly distracted by Toshinari Seki, her neighboring classmate. Paying attention during class is the least of Seki's worries, as he obsesses over intricate setups created using an assortment of items, from an elaborate domino course on his desk to a treacherous war played out with shogi pieces. Yokoi desperately attempts to focus in class, only to be repeatedly sucked into his intriguing eccentricities; however, they always seem to end up with her getting in trouble with their teacher. Fortunately, lessons will never be dull with Seki's antics around!

           My Rating: 9/10

Classroom of the Elite (2017)

On the surface, Koudo Ikusei Senior High School is a utopia. The students enjoy an unparalleled amount of freedom, and it is ranked highly in Japan. However, the reality is less than ideal. Four classes, A through D, are ranked in order of merit, and only the top classes receive favorable treatment.

Kiyotaka Ayanokouji is a student of Class D, where the school dumps its worst. There he meets the unsociable Suzune Horikita, who believes she was placed in Class D by mistake and desires to climb all the way to Class A, and the seemingly amicable class idol Kikyou Kushida, whose aim is to make as many friends as possible.

While class membership is permanent, class rankings are not; students in lower ranked classes can rise in rankings if they score better than those in the top ones. Additionally, in Class D, there are no bars on what methods can be used to get ahead. In this cutthroat school, can they prevail against the odds and reach the top?

           My Rating: 7/10

The Morose Mononokean (2016)

The start of Hanae Ashiya's high school career has not been easy—he has spent all of the first week in the infirmary, and his inexplicable condition is only getting worse. The cause of his torment is the mysterious fuzzy creature that has attached itself to him ever since he stumbled upon it the day before school began.

As his health continues to decline and the creature grows in size, Hanae comes across a flyer advertising an exorcist who expels youkai. Desperate and with nothing left to lose, he calls the number and is led to the Mononokean, a tea room which suddenly appears next to the infirmary. A morose-sounding man, Haruitsuki Abeno, reluctantly helps Hanae but demands payment afterward. Much to Hanae's dismay, he cannot afford the fee and must become an employee at the Mononokean to work off his debt. And to make things worse, his new boss is actually one of his classmates. If Hanae ever hopes to settle his debt, he must work together with Abeno to guide a variety of dangerous, strange, and interesting youkai back to the Underworld.

           My Rating: 6/10

Beyond the Boundary (2013)

Another of my favorite aesthetically pleasing anime, this show has been the one that I show to friends who claim that anime cannot be beautiful (yes, several of my friends have actually said things along that line).

Mirai Kuriyama is the sole survivor of a clan of Spirit World warriors with the power to employ their blood as weapons. As such, Mirai is tasked with hunting down and killing "youmu"—creatures said to be the manifestation of negative human emotions. One day, while deep in thought on the school roof, Mirai comes across Akihito Kanbara, a rare half-breed of youmu in human form. In a panicked state, she plunges her blood saber into him only to realize that he's an immortal being. From then on, the two form an impromptu friendship that revolves around Mirai constantly trying to kill Akihito, in an effort to boost her own wavering confidence as a Spirit World warrior. Eventually, Akihito also manages to convince her to join the Literary Club, which houses two other powerful Spirit World warriors, Hiroomi and Mitsuki Nase.

As the group's bond strengthens, however, so does the tenacity of the youmu around them. Their misadventures will soon turn into a fight for survival as the inevitable release of the most powerful youmu, Beyond the Boundary, approaches.

           My Rating: 7/10

Mekakucity Actors (2014)

I think about this show far more than I’d like to admit. The way they bring different plot lines together continues to amaze me 6 years after watching it for the first time.

On the hot summer day of August 14, Shintarou Kisaragi is forced to leave his room for the first time in two years. While arguing with the cyber girl Ene who lives in his computer, Shintarou Kisaragi accidentally spills soda all over his keyboard. Though they try to find a replacement online, most stores are closed due to the Obon festival, leaving them with no other choice but to visit the local department store. Venturing outside makes Shintarou extremely anxious, but the thought of living without his computer is even worse. It's just his luck that on the day he finally goes out, he's caught in a terrifying hostage situation.

Luckily, a group of teenagers with mysterious eye powers, who call themselves the "Mekakushi Dan," assist Shintarou in resolving the situation. As a result, he is forced to join their group, along with Ene. Their abilities seem to be like pieces of a puzzle, connecting one another, and as each member's past is unveiled, the secret that ties them together is slowly brought to light.

           My Rating: 8/10

Angels of Death (2018)

You totally want to get emotionally attached to cereal killers, right? Of course you do, that’s why you should totally watch this anime.

With dead and lifeless eyes, Rachel Gardner wishes only to die. Waking up in the basement of a building, she has no idea how or why she's there. She stumbles across a bandaged murderer named Zack, who is trying to escape. After promising to kill her as soon as he is free, Rachel and Zack set out to ascend through the building floor by floor until they escape.

However, as they progress upward, they meet more twisted people, and all of them seem familiar with Rachel. What is her connection to the building, and why was she placed in it? Facing a new boss on each floor, can Rachel and Zack both achieve their wishes?

           My Rating: 7/10

Bonus: Stars Align (2019)

I am adding one extra because this anime deserves so much more than it got. I adore every single character in this show and want nothing but to see them be happy. There is so much I adore about this show that I can’t put it all into words. I would recommend you watch this so you can share in my rage that the story was cut off halfway through with no current plans of completing it. There is no manga. There is no way of knowing what happens next. This recommendation is entirely for the purpose of generating more public outcry in the hopes that that causes them to finish the show. Please anime gods, if you are reading this I need to know what happens to my smol tennis boys. Are they safe? Are they alright? 

Constantly outperformed by the girls' club, the boys' soft tennis club faces disbandment due to their poor skills and lack of positive results in matches. In desperate need of members,

Toma Shinjou is looking to recruit capable players, but he fails to scout anyone. Enter Maki Katsuragi, a new transfer student who demonstrates great reflexes when he catches a stray cat in his classroom, instantly capturing Toma's attention. With his interest piqued, Toma ambitiously asks Maki to join the boys' team but is quickly rejected, as Maki doesn't wish to join any clubs. Toma refuses to back down and ends up persuading Maki—only under the condition that Toma will pay him for his participation and cover other club expenses.

As Maki joins the team, his incredible form and quick learning allow him to immediately outshine the rest of the team. Although this gives rise to conflict among the boys, Maki challenges and pushes his fellow team members to not only keep up with his seemingly natural talent, but also drive them to devote themselves to the game they once neglected.

This story focuses on the potential of the boys' soft tennis club and their discovery of their own capability, while also enduring personal hardships and dealing with the darker side of growing up in middle school.

[pastel9girlbunny000die]

This is written though to @mizunetzu Christmas event secret Santa. I didn't know when to post it but on the day of the deadline. So I hope the person whoes secret Santa I got to be like it and it is good? Which I doubt.

Warnings: none

Fandom: my hero academia/ Boku no hero academia

Title: The Love Letter

Ship: Mirio x male Reader

☆☆☆

Mirio is quite a good guy always fun to be around, he turns to look at the positive side of things.

And that's what made you like him even more, his great and fun. Since the day he met you he stuck around like a log every corner you turn you met him with a wide smile spread across his face.

At some point you started having romantic feelings towards the said boy, a little afraid to speak up. You didn't know his sexuality or what kind of person he's into, it kinda confused you since he surrounds himself with all kind of people, different personalities, genders, ages and taste.

His definitely a attention seeker, for great friendships.

Instead of pouring your heart out in person not wanting to face humiliation, or be seen spilling tears. Not wanting to be friend zoned in person.

You could only do one affected thing...

Write a love letter♡

Yes go a bit old school and express your feelings through written words on a piece of paper and stick it into his bag, anonymously.

***

"Hey, (L/n) look here isn't this dress really pretty or what?" One of the girls in class leaned over showing a certain (h/c) who was bored out of his mind face down on desk drool running down his chin

"Huh?" Lazily turned to look at the girl as she shove the magazine into his face. Forcefully taking it for her sitting up straight again so he can actually she what she was yapping about

"Yeah, I guess so?"

"I mean like yeah it's cute isn't it?"

(Y/n) ignored the rest of the girl's blabbering turning his attention back to the book in his hand flipping through the pages, it was pretty noisy in class being break and all everyone can enjoy their food as well as break.

"Did you hear, Mirio Togata another girl confessed to him."

"I heard he rejected her."

"Really, I bet its cause he doesn't have a quirk anymore."

"What a shame I guess his not worth it anymore."

"Its so sad how he keeps smiling like that."

A few girls whispered. (Y/n) had enough slamming his hand onto the table startling the girls

"His not worthless, his power isn't the only good trait about him! He has a great personality and strong believes!" The boy yelled taking his stand turning away leaving the classroom

Most of the class was shocked especially Tamaki and Nejire knowing (Y/n) isn't actually a person that gets easily angry

***

"Wow that really happened?" Mirio questioned a little surprised, Nejire just told him what you did for him first he thought it wasn't necessary but then again you were brave enough to defend him. It was sweet in a way made him happy to know your looking out for him

"Yeah, my the way you where going to show us what's in your hand?" The purple haired girl says trying to speak past her friend back

"Oh! This-" Mirio paused reaveling the Piece of paper that was behind him, a bright smile spread across his face he was practically sparkling

"O m G, is that a love letter!" Nejire gaps getting happy for her friend, her heart all pounding even if it wasn't meant for her she would always care and love her friends, even Tamaki cracked a shy smile taking a quick look at the happy blonde

"Yep, it's a love letter. Found it in my bag."

"Really what does it say what does it say?!"

"It is the most beautiful and loving thing I have ever read, the feelings and emotions poured into writing it, the reason why they love me made me feel completed, when and how got me to tears and laughter I couldn't help but smile. I'm in love." Mirio smiled softly a single year sliding down his cheek arms hugging the paper tightly to his chest

"Wow.. who sent it?"

"Anonymous. They where to afraid to give it in person or speak up, it makes me sad to think so."

"Oh.. mmh?" A concern look spread on Nejire face feeling bad for her friend "so you'll never know who it is?" She whispered is a sad tone

"Oh! No," Mirio laughed rubbing the back of his head "I know this hand writing anywhere I've seen it too many times, I know who this is."

"Really?!"

"Yep. Now if you'd excuse me I gotta a crush to hunt down" Mirio waved disappearing down the halls, leaving his two friends behind

***

"Why that bitch!" (Y/n) cursed kicking the wall leaving dusty shoe prints on the stone, anger written all over his face, sadness building up in his eyes

'Why would anyone be valued to their power? Instead why not love them regardless of what they are, who they are, what gender they are or not. You should love the person not what they have!'

"It pissed me the fuck off!"

"What does?" A kind voice traveled with care and a little worried to (Y/n) ears, making him turn to the owner of the loving voice. Mirio stood there a small smile on his face soft gaze upon your form

"Oh! Mirio sorry it's nothing." (Y/n) says looking away avoiding eye contact his shyness immediately returns with a aching heartbeat and a uncontrollable blush

"Hey, (Y/n) buddy I wanna talk to you." Mirio slowly walking toward you till he was face to face trying to catch your attention by going into your line of sight but it only ended up with you turning your back to him, unable to control your heartbeat wondering if he could hear it just as loud as you are

"So, I wanna thank you. I heard from Nejire what happened and I'm really grateful that you stood up for me I didn't know you care that much. So thanks (Y/n)." The words made you so happy, if this makes you feel like your about to die what would a kiss do?

"There's something else I want to talk about too, this is kinda girly but. I got a love letter today!" Mirio started talking in an unsure tone till he ended the sentence with a much more gleeful and cheerful tone all smiles and rainbows

"R-really ?" You took a quick glimpse at the paper in his hand turning back to the wall

"Yeah, wanna hear what it says?"

"N-no-" your voice came out below whisper unheard from Mirio as he continued

"I was thinking today about how very much I love you, and how I never have the courage to tell you that. So I wanted to sit down and let you know how truly in love with you I really am Mirio.

I still remember the first time I met you I thought you were weird and you till are, we were both still in middle school so I didn't know much about my feelings, it took me very long to figure out, You were smiling ear-to-ear and absolutely lit up the room it made me feel shy and awkward around you which I'm not. I tried avoiding you but like paper you stuck to me like glue.

Till today you still make me happy and shy. Weak to my knees along the way

I truly think you are the most handsome guy in the world. I love the feeling of your gaze on me even the tiniest brushed of skin makes me hyper. Your smile lifts my spirits on even my worst days. I love your laugh and your ability to find humor in every situation. I’m so grateful for everything you do for me.

You truly complete me. These last few years have been the happiest of my life. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to always have my best friend by my side, but I'm too scared to face rejection and see a sorry look on your face.

I'd rather keep myself hidden in your shadow. So I can just love you for awhile longer

I truly love you. Mirio Togata."

"Yeah that's really pretty." I sighed, why would he read it to me? I send it anonymously it hurts just knowing I can't be with him

"Yeah it, is really pretty it makes me happy to know someone cares this much about me and is afraid to tell me in person. This letter is making me happy but I'm already in love."

What? He.. why do I feel like crying? My heart ached worse and it hurts

Tears started falling dripping down into the ground disappearing beneath the sand, (Y/n) body started trembling as he hugged himself feeling hopeless and pain

"(Y/n) what's wrong?... why are you crying?!" Mirio panicked not knowing what to do, only to turn you around facing him and hug you tightly to him pressing your face into his soft chest arms securely around your back

"Its okay, it is okay (Y/n) I'm right here you can talk to me, does it hurt somewhere did someone say something mean." He spoke softly between your sobbing and whimpering holding you tight as possible

"I-I ... lo-love you-you Mi-rio.. please don't g-go!" It made a kind smile appeared on the blonde face he lift you chin so that your eyes met, his shirt was all wet from your crying but that is the last thing on his mind

"Hey, calm down. Its okay I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." You finally steady your breaths you heart still beating out of your chest, as Mirio whips away your tears

"I love you too. (Y/n) (L/n), the love letter is truly beautiful."

☆☆☆

I hope you enjoyed. ~

[ktrsss1fics]

Cake By The Ocean: Eight.

If you were to ask Georgina Ferguson what her last full day in Mykonos would consist of, never in a million years would she say a day at the beach with her boyfriend followed by a night on the town with her closest friends. As the bars began to close, the gang made their way back home. Mags and Jenna held hands and gossiped. Jamie, Keith, and Niall were singing some song from the early 2000s. Georgina trailed behind everyone reminiscing about her time in Greece.�� She was drunk off sangria and the smell of a certain Irishman’s cologne. This trip was exactly what she needed. Her heart was happy and her love meter was full. 

“Ferg, wait until we’re home to undress the poor boy.” Dave said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

“Heart wants what it wants, David.” Georgina smiled as she took her eyes off her boyfriend.

“He truly thinks the world of you.” Dave said. 

“Assss he should.” Brittany slurred as she slipped her hand into Georgina’s. 

A moment of silence passed between the trio. It wasn’t very long until the house they were staying in came into view. Georgina gave her best friend’s hand a squeeze as the rest of their friends filed inside. 

“You two should come over for dinner when we get home.” Brittany said. “It’ll be like old times.”

“But now we know they’re shaggin’.” Dave teased. 

“The kids are in love. Leave ‘em alone.” Britt said. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s probably sat on his face by now.” Dave said smugly. 

“David!” Brittany and Georgina groaned  in unison.

The gentle giant placed a quick kiss on the top of Georgina’s head. “Only taking the piss, babes.”

“We’ve talked about this, what she does in the bedroom is-is-is her business.” Brittany said. 

“You birds take everything so seriously.” Her boyfriend sighed. 

“Oi, what are they on about, Davey?” Niall asked from inside the house.

“Nialler, settle a bet for me—“ Dave started to say before Georgina cut him off. 

“We aren’t in neutral territory anymore.” She said stepping inside. “Use your indoor voice.”

Marco, Ashlee, and Mar had declined the invitation to go out with everyone. No one understood why but they were not fond of the Terrible Threesome. Everyone was counting down the days until they said goodbye to them for good. 

Dave kissed her head once more before peeling away from her side. “Yes, Mum.”

“I’ll have a talk with him when we are alone.” Brittany said to her best friend as her boyfriend walked away. 

“He’s only doin’ it to push me buttons.” Ferg sighed. 

“Y’alright baby?” Brittany asked. 

“It’s probably because I’m drunk but I really don’t want to go home.” Georgina said. “It’s just going to be work and deadlines and I’m not gonna see everyone as much as I’d like.”

“I don’t know if you agree with me but this — as crazy as it sounds — has been the best trip we’ve been on and like I just don’t want things to change. You know?”

“It definitely has been one for the record books.” Brittany said grabbing onto Georgina’s other hand. “But you know you aren’t in this alone, right?”

“Yeah—“ Georgina said but Brittany shook her head. 

Britt looked up at her best friend. “We’ve all decided that we’ve got you. You aren’t in this alone anymore. We all talked and we aren’t letting any outside influences mess this up because—“

“He’s The Baby.” Georgina blushed. 

“And you’re you.” Britt smiled.

“Yeah but—“

“Oh fuck off Georgie.” Britt rolled her eyes. “They love you more than they love him most days.”

Georgina could feel her cheeks grow warm. Her friends truly meant the world to her and knowing they were fully supportive of her relationship with Niall meant everything. She truly didn’t know what she would do without them. 

“Fergithica and Brittania we need you over here. ASAP!!” Jenna shouted from the living room. 

“Where my bitches at?” Mags said through a microphone. 

“Oh god.” Britt said with her eyes closed. 

“I thought we hid the mic.” Georgina said wide-eyed. 

“Who the fuck gave her a mic?” Jamie cackled from the kitchen. 

Georgina and Brittany made their way into the living room while the rest of the boys joined them. Standing center stage were the drunkest members of the Hen House. 

“We wanna do karaoke!” Jenna said leaning against Margaret. 

“You lot can’t sing while sober.” Keith said taking a seat beside Georgina on the couch. “Who says you can in the state you’re in.”

“We have a thing called talent, Miller.” Mags slurred into the mic. “Might wanna look it up babes.”

“Yeah, as much talent as two cats in heat.” Keith mumbled making Georgina laugh. 

“Also, stating this now, Niall Horan is not allowed to sing.” Mags said pointing to the brown haired man. 

Niall threw his hands up in defense. “Whatever you want, babes.”

“Who wants to be the DJ?” Jenna asked, scanning the crowd that had formed. 

“What song you ruinin’ first?” Dave asked as he pulled out his phone. 

“Hmm… ‘Chandelier’ by Sia.” Jenna said causing the room to erupt into laughter. 

“Oh fuck right off you dicks.” Mags glared. 

As David cued up the music on the television, Jamie carefully walked in the room with a tray of drinks. 

“We are gonna need these.” Jamie said as his girlfriend got ready to sing her drunken heart out.  

The two women cleared their throats. Niall took this as a sign to make his way towards the couch. Not only did he want a front row seat to the show about to be performed but he wanted to be closer to the woman he loved. 

The Irishman had tried his best to keep his hands to himself when they were out in public. He didn’t know how comfortable Georgina was with showing any display of affection in front of their friends. He had made her keep their relationship a secret for months. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable by forcing too much affection too soon. 

Although he tried to keep his distance, the alcohol in his system and the way Georgina looked had his mind racing. He couldn’t wait until they were alone later. Niall leaned back in his seat before resting a hand on Georgina’s leg. This was exactly how he wanted to end their trip.

“This one is specifically dedicated to Keith Reginald Miller.” Mags said with a wink. “My biggest fan.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You wanker.”

“Woo! That’s my baby.” Jamie cheered as he took a seat on the floor.

The next couple hours were filled with goblets of sangria and very poor renditions of some of the greatest songs ever created. From Robbie Williams to Lionel Richie,  Fergie and the gang sang their heart's out in the middle of that Grecian villa. 

While Jamie and Davey belted out a Bob Seger banger, Niall decided they needed food to sop up some of the liquor they had consumed. The Irishman made his way into the kitchen to see what he could come up with. Naturally, Georgina followed in suit.

The pair decided on grilled cheese sandwiches. They hoped the bread would bring everyone down a notch. Fortunately, their flights were in the evening so they had time to sleep off the hangover that was sure to take form once everyone headed to bed.

“Britt wants us to come over for dinner when we get back.” Georgina said as she pulled a piece of cheddar cheese away from the paper packaging.

“Just us four?” Niall asked, pressing a spatula into a slice of bread making it sizzle in the pan.

“Just like the good ol’ days.” She said with a nod.

“That’ll be brilliant.” Niall smiled as he looked up at her.

The kitchen grew quiet as the couple worked in peace. Their system had become second nature. Niall was in charge of grilling while Georgina took take care of all the prep work. A pile of sandwiches started to take form on the plate within minutes. It was just further proof that they were in fact a good team.

“Babe, are you sure we---” Niall said, flipping over one last sandwich.

“We’re gonna be good.” Georgina said reassuring him. “I promise.”

“I love you.” He smiled. “Like a lot.”

Georgina leaned against the counter. “I love you too.”

Once the last sandwich was finished, Niall walked over to where his girlfriend was standing. He rested his hands on the counter beside her. He leaned in close. 

“Just so we are both aware, I’m fucking you as soon as that door closes tonight.” He said softly. 

Georgina’s face lit up at the husky tone of his voice. 

“You can’t just look like an absolute goddess and get away with it.” Niall winked.

“Unacceptable, right?” She whispered as he pressed up against her. 

“Completely.” He said.

“Am I going to be punished?” She smirked. 

“Fuck, Georgina!” He said squeezing his eyes shit. “Please don’t give me a hard on in front of our friends.”

Georgina giggled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Niall rolled his eyes making her laugh more. Without thinking, Georgina grabbed his chin and placed a very deep kiss on his lips. Niall’s heart wanted to explode. All he had wanted to do that night was kiss her. Now that he finally had the opportunity to he wasn’t going to stop. A slow and steamy make out session began. 

What the young couple didn’t know was that their every move was being recorded from the doorway of the kitchen by a very despicable human being. Every kiss that was shared in that kitchen was strung together in a short video that could ruin them. 

Marlene truly was the worst person on the planet. 

With a smug look on her face, the young American stopped the video. She turned slowly but slammed right into the chest of a very angry looking man. 

“Delete it.” He said. 

“I-I-I- don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stuttered nervously. 

“Delete the video.”

“I don’t kn—“ She started to say as she attempted to get away. He wouldn’t let her past. 

“Delete the video or I will ruin your life.” He stated.

[maybe-theres-hope]

Of Will and Wildflowers, Part 1

Tarlos | period drama/grudging acquaintances to lovers | Part 1/3 

Read on ao3

Thank you to @oquinn53 and @resiotcage for cheerleading and reading ahead of time. You both give me the motivation to keep going. 

Title by @oquinn53 :)

By law, TK Strand cannot inherit his father’s railroad empire until he marries. He has absolutely no intention of finding a husband on their trip down to Texas, but he finds himself blindsided by Mr. Carlos Reyes, only son of Doña Marialena Reyes. The problem is that Mr. Reyes resents the Strands coming to buy up parcels of his family’s cattle estate to build a rail line on. TK is perfectly happy to leave him to stew in his anger, as he has no use to see the man after the end of the week. However, TK will find that the heart wants what it wants, and there’s rarely anything one can do about it. 

Set in 1885

Below is an excerpt, full part 1 from the beginning is under the cut!

TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“He insulted us and called us names. He besmirched our honor. He wears brocade to ride in! What on earth makes him a good man?” TK huffed out a breath. He turned to see his father just smiling at him.

“He’s a good judge of a room, anyway. He seldom looked away from you,” Owen ribbed. TK could now see where this was heading. His own father was just as bad as the Doña trying to play matchmaker.

“Parents are far too successful in matching their children up economically, but when it comes to romance, parents are no better off than if they hadn’t known another eligible soul in the world,” TK recited.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

At this, Owen softened his face. “I am sorry for being a bit pushy, but Mr. Reyes is the first man you’ve so much as made eye contact with of late. Is it so odd to wonder what about him brought you out of your self-imposed melancholy?”

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

Part 1

“Ms. Mercer’s proposal looks promising,” Owen says, mostly to himself but loud enough to include TK in the conversation, should he wish to participate. “And Mr. and Mr. Felton-Lowman have quite a sprawl, though it does look to contain more elevation than I was hoping. I thought all of Texas was supposed to be flat?” Owen muses as he tosses the papers back onto his makeshift desk.

TK is only half listening, choosing instead to stare morosely out the window at the passing countryside of the American South, eyes at intervals tracking livestock in the fields and lingering drips from this morning’s light storm rolling down the glass window of the lavish Pullman they’ve commandeered as their vessel for this journey. His father, bless his soul, had tried to get TK to care more about the business as of late, and truth be told, TK was very interested in the workings of his father’s company and he did take great pride in being able to inherit it someday and make his father proud. It was just that recently, he’d had his heart thoroughly crushed by an absolute rake of a man and he’d rather wallow in self pity than think about geological surveys and boundaries for livestock movements.

TK heard his father sigh, a sure sign that a lecture was coming soon. TK took a breath and held it.

“I wish you’d forget about that awful boy, Tyler. You wouldn’t have wanted a life with him anyway. His family was barely polite at best, and scandalous at their worst. Honestly, you got out on the good side of things.” TK wanted to say that he didn’t care about things like status and scandal, he cared about love and commitment.

Turns out all Alexander had been able to commit to was his harem of stable boys and footmen that TK had known nothing about until it was too late.

TK blew out his breath. He knew his father meant well. Owen Strand was not overbearing as some other fathers were, especially with an only child upon whom everything rested. He wished his son to be happy and settled, is all. TK knew this, and still he couldn’t help his sullen reply.

“Yes, father, I shall just forget. Forget every sweet nothing and every second and third dance. Forget every promise and every earnest declaration. Forget that it was all a lie. Yes, my mind shall be rid of Alexander’s presence by sundown. Then we shall celebrate. How simple.” He knew he was being unreasonable, but he wanted to be angry for a while. He’d only found Alexander with Mrs. Howell’s second footman three days earlier. It still stung.

As the train rattled on, closer to a place that TK was of a mind to understand was so far from proper civilization as to be considered exotic, he felt his father’s disappointment cling to him. That hurt worse than what he’d seen Alexander and the footman doing--which was something for which he was sure a name had not been invented yet.

“I’m sorry, father. It’s just that you’ve set this deadline for me with no explanation as to why, and I don’t want to let you down but I’m afraid I’ll never find the right man for me. I had thought it would be Mr. Thompson, but I was mistaken. Sorely mistaken.”

At this, TK looked up to catch his father’s soft look of commiseration. “I know you’re feeling overwhelmed, but you are getting on in age. Most boys are married off by three and twenty, and you’ve gone nearly four years past that. I’m not going to be around forever, you know. You need to secure a match that makes you happy, but you’ll need to do it sooner rather than later.”

“Why, father? Why must I rush such a momentous decision? You are in perfect health! I have another five or ten at least!” At this, he caught a very minute shift in his father’s countenance, something like pain, but it was gone in an instant. His father was the most stoic man TK had ever had occasion to meet; if he was in pain at all, no one would ever know. It must have been a trick of the flickering pre-dusk light coming through the windows of the train car. Owen took on a playful tone.

“Five or ten? What respectable young lad would want to marry a man of thirty-five? You’d practically be spinster by then,” he joked fondly.

“You’re a good deal past thirty-five and I’ve still seen twenty year old Miss Brinkman making eyes at you across the dancefloor of an evening. If I’ve inherited your genes I’ve nothing to fear,” TK shot back with a barely there smirk.

“Thank heaven for us all, but you’ve got your mother’s beauty. I couldn’t have asked for better,” Owen said quietly. TK’s mother had been gone these past ten years. A bout with pneumonia that the doctors could not cure had taken her from them. “But you do have my charm, I’ll allow you that. You should put it to use down south. Perhaps a cattle baron might catch your eye?”

“Oh by God, no. I couldn’t imagine whiling away my days on a smelly farm trying to read reports by moonlight and taking my sullen and fatigued husband to bed only for him to fall asleep minutes after his head hits the pillow. No romance in hard labor, that’s for sure.” TK shuddered a bit to think of life on an actual farm, constantly smelling of hay and manure like some streetsweeper back in Manhattan.

“I do believe successful cattle barons can afford more than a few tawdry tallows, Tyler,” Owen quipped with a smirk before turning his attention back to the maps and surveys scattered in front of him. The conversation that, just moments ago, had been fraught with uncertainty and earnestness seemed to flutter into the wind. TK and his father were like that most times: they’d lay things out on the table between them, and if it clearly couldn’t be resolved in a single good-natured quarrel, they both gave themselves time to regroup to resume the discussion at a later date.

For this particular subject, TK was coming to think of that ‘later date’ as a cuff slowly tightening around his wrist, the chain binding him to his destiny getting shorter and shorter.

He looked down at his hands, privileged hands that hadn’t had to do much manual labor in his life, save for the few times his father took him to the yards to show him how things were run. Owen, on the other hand, was an entirely self-made man, who saved and invested his earnings working for Vanderbilt and made enough to purchase his first railcar at just twenty. He contracted it with the Erie and charged passengers thirty-five cents for passage between New York and Boston. From there it only grew, to what was now a very respectable business, looking to lay lines of their own. Perhaps not the largest--that was still Vanderbilt’s claim--but certainly a player on the board.

And it would all be TK’s if he could just hurry up and fall in love already.

_______

The carriage from the station drove them twenty miles through gorgeous hill country. The cattle and horses grazed on rolling plains that swelled gently as they approached the horizon. It was warm, but not unbearable, which TK attributed to the absence of industry steaming and smoking and saturating the very air in one’s lungs as it did in Manhattan. Furthermore, despite the over-abundance of livestock surrounding them, the smell was far more pleasant than he was used to. TK could not help but conclude upon this observation that maybe it was not the horses that stunk, but the people. After all, fresh air was a luxury very few could afford, and they usually had to go thousands of miles to get it, such as he and his father were doing now.

Still, he held to his earlier affirmation that he could not see himself making a life in a place such as this. Despite the fact that he’d concluded they apparently smelled horrid, TK loved being around people. He supposed that was to be attributed to being an only child, and having no siblings underfoot to raise ruckus and otherwise pierce the silence that hung heavy over their home of late. Even though he’d not experienced that kind of life, he’d always hoped to make a large family of his own, his husband and he adopting ten or more children to raise and fawn over. TK had never considered for a moment that he wouldn’t be a father, regardless of his proclivity for finding only men attractive in any way. Some of that persuasion chose to remain as partners only, bequeathing their fortunes, such as they were, to their universities or other charitable pursuits. But TK had always wanted a house full of mouths to feed and hearts to warm.

He dreamed about the day when he could look over at his husband, gray-haired and body-bent, and smile at what they’d created.

Except it did not seem as though he would be acquiring a husband any time soon, and that thought vexed him more than he let on to his father. Yes, he agreed that he was getting on in years as far as marriageable age for young bachelors was concerned, but his one universal truth was that he would not settle for someone who was not the love of his life. That conviction, though others called it foolish, was the great constant that ran through every interaction TK had with any handsome man he happened upon.

He was determined to uphold that promise to himself, no matter how many years passed. If the right one came along, he’d know it. No matter for the moment, anyway, as he was doubly sure he’d not meet the love of his life in the middle of cattle country.

As the carriage rounded another gentle swell, a rather large bright structure came into view. TK put his hand up to shield his eyes for a moment, as it seemed the very sun shone out of the building. As they drew closer to the drive—lined with giant oak trees on each side like twenty such sentries—it became apparent that the house was not radiating light, but reflecting it. Every upright surface was covered with glittering textured limestone, something TK had seen here and there on their travels through the southern states. Also something they had encountered before was a grievously oversized stoop—which these people called porches—that spanned the entire width of the house, and it was evident that it wrapped around to the sides as well. It was dotted here and there with rocking chairs and benches, each with a wool blanket or cushion thrown haphazardly onto the seat to aid the sitter’s comfort on the otherwise hard wood surface.

They reached the house after a long drive up, and the carriage deposited them at the bottom of the steps up to the grand estate. TK had seen mansions in Manhattan and beyond, but this house was like a full government building. It was massive. He wondered how many people lived here.

As their driver helped them from the carriage and began to let down their luggage, a shriek of delight could be heard just inside the door. TK jumped for a moment, not expecting such a sound in such a peaceful place, before he was bombarded with the view of three bright young ladies in finely detailed seersucker and bustled skirts.  

“Oh, you’ve arrived at last!” the one who looked to be the eldest exclaimed. She was tall, at least half a foot taller than the other two, with ink black hair tied up in neat chignon. Her sleeves accented delicate wrists and her waist was nipped down modestly. She smiled like TK and his father arriving was akin to a grand parade, when really they resembled world-weary travelers who could barely un-stoop their backs from so long inside the carriage. The other two young ladies—girls really—giggled behind their hands. They bore a strong resemblance to the elder; certainly they were all sisters.

Ever the gentleman, TK removed his hat to gesture to the ladies, who gave curtsies in answer. Owen did the same, and received curtsies that went just a bit deeper. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Owen called with a smile. “I was told I could meet directly with Doña Marialena upon our arrival.” He quirked his eyebrow up in question, even though it was perfectly plain that none of these girls was old enough to be the proprietor of this estate, unless they had been sorely deceived. TK thought he might admire someone capable of extending that sort of ruse for as long as they’d been corresponding with the Doña. But alas, a moment later, a much older woman who resembled quite strikingly all three ladies gathered on the porch emerged from the wide open front door.

The Doña was an intimidating woman on her own, but the height afforded her by their current positions made it seem even more so. TK tucked his hat into his elbow and bowed low, following his father’s action. The older woman bent her knees a bit, and TK noticed she did not descend the steps to meet them, but instead kept her position above, behind her daughters.

“Welcome to La Hacienda Reyes, gentlemen,” she intoned in a very slightly accented, gravelly voice. It should have sounded harsh, but it just sounded well-used, as though she’d employed it many times to shout at her daughters for their impropriety at scurrying out to meet guests on the lawn without their bonnets, as she looked apt to do right this very second. TK did not mind their state of dress so much, as rules were getting a little more lax for the younger set these days, especially in the city. Though, now that he thought about it, these country folk might be a mite more traditional, but he let the thought fade into obscurity as the Doña smiled softly down at him a moment later, as if sharing a secret.

He and Owen approached the steps as the Doña descended to meet them. Owen made their introductions as TK took her hand in his, giving a small bow as was customary. He let his father lead the conversation as he made his way over to the daughters assembled on the lawn. He kissed each of their hands in turn, learning that their names were Christina, Elena, and Raquel, from eldest to youngest. He was also informed that Christina was not the eldest in the household; her sister Rosa was ten years her senior and married, and she and her wife were summering on the East Coast.

As Christina regaled TK with how wonderful and filled with revelry their visit was to be, a lone figure appeared at the edge of his vision, galloping up quite swiftly on horseback. The animal was beautiful, sleek and black and moving with its rider as though they were one. As they drew closer, Christina also lit on to the approaching figure.

“Oh, there’s my brother. Mamà will have his head for not meeting you directly, as the man of the house should. Even though he won’t inherit, she still insists he accompany her when seeing to the business of the estate, especially when Rosa is away.”

“I’m sure he had urgent business to attend,” TK offered, however he did not know what kind of business a man in fine brocade—as he could now see the golden threads shining in the Texas sun—would have out in the fields. “We did arrive earlier than expected, I believe. Our apologies.”

“Oh, no. He wished to stay away. I’m of right mind to assume he thought we’d already be inside by now and that’s why he’s made his appearance, and he’ll be sorely thwarted to see us still about.” She fought to hide a smirk, and TK was intrigued. However, he didn’t have time to contemplate on the apparent lack of manners of the man of the house before the man in question was upon them.

He was invariably handsome, that much was clear on his approach. He had tanned skin that shone in the rays of the afternoon sun, and curls atop his beautiful head that caught that same light and transformed into blacks and browns and golds as he moved. He was fit and tall, as TK could tell even from his seat on the horse, and he commanded an air about him that sang with regality. As he disembarked from the saddle, TK was struck dumb at the fluidity of his movements. It was as if he was still galloping along with the horse, moving slowly and rapidly at the same time, body deliberately placing itself where it needed to be rather than flinging his limbs about as some proud men were wont to do when they felt the urge to assert their authority.

As he turned to face the gathered group and at last revealed his face from a close angle, TK was struck dumb. This man was gorgeous. Exquisite. A dream made flesh. TK could all of a sudden imagine what this man looked like when he smiled, when he was upset, when he was elated, when he cried. He could picture a thousand candlelit dinners at the Fifth Avenue Hotel across from this man, surreptitiously dragging their toes against one another under the table, faces and hearts alight with the impropriety of doing such a thing in public, but being too enamored of each other to care.

He could picture all of this so clearly and crisply that he could almost smell the gardenia adorning the little vase upon the table. That was, until the man opened his mouth.

“Gentlemen,” he spit, as though the word were a curse upon their persons. He turned to the Doña and intoned in a volume that was surely meant to be overheard but made as if to seem secretive, “Mother, I thought you said only one was coming. We must entertain two greedy industrialist blackguards for the whole of the week when we’ve not even fully migrated the herd?”

At this, Doña Marialena did not even flinch. She simply leaned in closer to her son and spit out a quick succession of words no doubt meant to silence his gaucherie, but which only served to wind his already pinched countenance into a tighter knot. When their short exchange had ceased, he looked mildly chastised but still as though he would rather be anywhere than here, meeting TK and his father on the front lawn. However, after receiving that nearly silent dressing down from his mother in front of their guests, he screwed his face into a more acceptable visage, and approached Owen, who was holding out his hand.

Doña Marialena made their introductions, “Carlos, this is Owen Strand and his son, TK. Mr. Strand, this is my son Carlos. Please excuse his horrendous manners.”

Carlos took Owen’s hand. “Welcome to our Hacienda, sirs. You are from New York, is that correct?”

“We are. Nearly a fortnight’s journey to get here, but it was beautiful country to pass through,” Owen answered in a friendly tone, unfettered by the exchange of impropriety that had just taken place and determined to move into more friendly territory.

“Ah, well. Let us hope your trip was not in vain,” Carlos answered with a barely there sneer. He turned to TK and offered his hand as Owen and the women turned to shuffle inside the house.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Reyes. I hope we can find some mutual agreement that is beneficial to all in this endeavor,” TK said solemnly while shaking the man’s hand. He’d abruptly become determined to dispense with all amorous thoughts of this abhorrent man. He and his father were here to do business, attend a party or two, and leave with contract in hand, and nothing more.

“There is nothing beneficial to my family about breaking off pieces of our home to sell to ardent capitalists,” Carlos hissed in a volume meant only for TK. “My grandfather’s blood is boiling in his grave as we speak.”

“Well then I suppose it is advantageous for us that you are not the one making decisions about the estate. Your mother seems quite keen to receive the compensation of ‘ardent capitalists’, as you say. Perhaps there are some issues with the household which require assistance which you, as third born, were not made privy to, sir.” TK could not help himself, and shot back the jab without thinking it through. It was ill-bred talk of money in the open, and much more so to bring it up in a first meeting, but Mr. Reyes was the one who’d alluded to finances first, so TK felt little remorse upon seeing the other man’s face flash with indignation.

Mr. Reyes looked as though he wished to lob one last verbal volley at TK, but seemed to think better of it which was a surprise given his utter lack of tact until that moment. He turned away from TK with a last look of barely tempered rage in his brown eyes and made his way up the steps and into the house.

TK followed, determined not to ponder on why that look had given him gooseflesh in a way that did not suggest fear for one’s life, but rather intrigue at what other thinly veiled emotions his own words could make those eyes flash with.

_______

Dinner was a modestly lavish affair. The table was adorned with yellow roses, to symbolize friendship and cooperation, which TK thought was a nice touch from the staff yet ultimately ineffective.

Well, possibly not entirely ineffective, as his father was currently wooing and entertaining the four women at the table with his usual easy charm, and they all seemed to be devouring his anecdotes and quips with good spirts.

It was Mr. Reyes that seemed out of sorts with the rest of the party. Even TK himself was beginning to forget their fraught exchange on the lawn and give in to the revelry of the evening. Truth be told he was glad to be at table with someone other than his father, who tended to give him pitiful looks and well-meaning advice about his recently broken heart. TK also had to admit that along with the laughing women, even Carlos himself was a nice change. His presence gave TK something to focus on other than thinking of his failed chance at happiness.

As it was, TK had already forgotten that he’d vowed he would not focus on Mr. Reyes at all.

“Your father tells me you are six-and-twenty and still a bachelor? How ever have you managed that?” The Doña asked across the table. Given his current preoccupation, TK didn’t even take the slightest bit of offense from the statement. It was helped along by the kind look in her eyes.

He gave a bashful chuckle. “Hard work and perseverance, ma’am,” he joked, and the table laughed along with him, save for one. “I’ve simply not encountered the right match, I’m afraid.”

“If he was married to the work, I’d be less anxious, but alas…” Owen trailed off with a good natured smile. Even with all his father’s nagging, TK knew in his heart that his father wanted his son to be happy and unhurried in choosing a husband.

“I’m holding out for my perfect compliment. Is that so naive?”

“Maybe not for a man in such good standing as you. I’m sure you have suitors left and right vying for your attention, Mr. Strand,” Elena said from across the table.

“I’m afraid at the moment I am quite unadorned with neither suitors nor passing interest,” he answered her.

“I, too, am similarly afflicted,” Elena mourned with a sigh. TK thought she couldn’t have been more than seven-and-ten, quite young to be so concerned. Then again he thought perhaps the country was different than the city. The Doña was mature to be sure, but she looked much younger than he’d thought a woman with a child of more than thirty years—as had been hinted about the absent Rosa—would look. She must have been wed around Elena’s age after all.

“Oh hush, sister. Your situation is not nearly as dire as mine,” Christina said. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead in an affected swoon. “Whenever shall I leave the nest?”

“When someone who possesses such a lack of wits that it precludes them from knowing better comes to sweep you off your feet,” said Raquel. Her sister gave her a scathing look before smirking and presumably kicking her lightly under the table. The younger sister just giggled and went back to her meal.

As TK watched the family interact, lightly teasing each other good-naturedly but never outright insulting each other, he could sense the love and connection among them. Oh, how he longed for a large family such as this someday. Surrounded by his children and their love for each other that ran so deep as to assure each and every one of them that no matter what was said in jest, they were always seeded first in the minds of the rest.

Even with all the lighthearted conversation going on at table, the sole Reyes son was still silent. TK thought it odd that such a stoic, contemptible man could be born into a family of such vibrant women; he was surrounded by their vivacity every day and still he was unmoved to even smile into his potatoes at their revelry. The rest of them also seemed to sense that Mr. Reyes did not wish to partake in the lively conversation, as none of them moved to include him. The Doña glanced to her son every now and then, and TK couldn’t have said her expression looked reproachful (as he would have agreeably afforded her) but it did not look content either.

Perhaps this was not usual behavior for Mr. Reyes. If that was so, then it really was the Strands’ arrival that had put him out of sorts and TK had no recourse to remedy that at present. He and his father were here for business that must be conducted, and Mr. Reyes would just have to live with that.

The Doña had apparently noticed TK going quiet among the ruckus and subsequently had noticed his earlier gaze flickering around the family accompanied by a soft smile. It seemed as though she’d misinterpreted his attentions, however.

“Perhaps the perfect compliment is sooner encountered than you think.” She gave a very slight incline of her head, seemingly meant to indicate Christina, who was sitting to her right and had proceeded to blush so profusely TK was momentarily concerned for her health. He endeavored to be diplomatic but firm against the Doña’s clear initiative, which was impossible for anyone at the table to miss.

“Ah, your family is lovely, Doña, but I fear your son and I would need to converse at length before we could find views on which we do not differ at the moment.” It was part lighthearted joke, part barely concealed jab at Carlos, and part signal of his preferences, so as not to invite any more ideas about betrothing him to one of the daughters.

Alas, he did not miss the Doña’s sharp eye turn to her son before landing back on himself in quick succession. Given their greeting, the Doña should not rightly expect there to be any amorous feeling available between them. Her face relaxed after a moment, and she returned her gaze to the rest of the table. TK did not feel cowed, per se, but the weight of her scrutiny could still be felt upon his cheeks. He was immediately given to wonder what could be contained behind those steady brown eyes, so like her son’s.

As the conversation resumed—Christina was finally ribbing her brother for his lack of mirth this evening—yet again TK found himself studying Carlos Reyes, handsome specimen that he was. But the cut of a man’s jaw and the shine of his eyes did not a welcome companion make, in TK’s view. Sure, he’d lost himself for a moment in the man’s fluidity of movement, the low timbre of his voice, the fire in his expression. But the measure of a man is in his actions, not his appearance. A man can appear any way he wants to; it is his behavior that epitomizes his character. Carlos Reyes had shown himself to be headstrong, closed-off, and prejudiced. TK had no use for such a personality. Carlos could while and wallow away his days alone for all TK cared. He would leave here with no attachments and that would not be a hardship.

Just at that moment, the man in question met his eyes. They stared for a moment, caught in some trap of unconscious strain, seemingly bound to the attempt to find the measure of each other in a single look. When TK looked away first, he felt as if he’d lost some contest.

When he chanced a glance toward the man again, he found his gaze hadn’t wavered but was now more open than it had been since they’d met, which admittedly was not to say much.

Later that night, when Christina had shown them to their guest rooms, Owen made an observation as they dressed for bed.

“The girls are quite well-bred,” he stated, apropos of nothing. The caliber of the family had no bearing on the land, therefore it was of little interest to them in coming into this negotiation. At least, that is what TK believed. His father, it was apparent, thought differently. “And Doña Marialena is a fine head of the household. She has taught her children well.”

At this, TK scoffed.

“And her son is quite adept, don’t you agree?” Owen continued as he hung his dinner jacket away. “A good man who knows the value of family and home.”

TK could not let this statement slide. “A good man? He’s an absolute cad!”

“Oh? He was perfectly cordial during dinner. There was that snafu when we arrived, but that was cleared up quickly. I say, he’s a fine man.” TK was astonished at his father’s ability to forgive anyone almost anything, but this was almost too far. Mr. Reyes had barely said a word at dinner, and that was only after he’d been forcibly pulled into conversation by Christina. Even then he’d talked of nothing but the weather and cattle movements, and he’d offered a mild chuckle at Elena’s story of her first time riding a horse. He’d spent the rest of the evening simultaneously staring at and avoiding TK.

TK knew this because he’d been doing the same, though he would sooner saw off his own hand than admit to it.

“He insulted us and called us names. He besmirched our honor. He wears brocade to ride in! What on earth makes him a good man?” TK huffed out a breath. He turned to see his father just smiling at him.

“He’s a good judge of a room, anyway. He seldom looked away from you,” Owen ribbed. TK could now see where this was heading. His own father was just as bad as the Doña trying to play matchmaker.

“Parents are far too successful in matching their children up economically, but when it comes to romance, parents are no better off than if they hadn’t known another eligible soul in the world,” TK recited.

“Oh, come now son, I’m not that insensitive! He’s handsome isn’t he?” his father returned, finally dropping the ruse and showing his true colors.

“Handsomeness does not a happy home make,” TK recited again.

“You’ve been reading too many Dame Juliette columns.”

“And you’ve been trying to plot my marriage since we were on the train, and the minute you saw a handsome son on this estate you’ve sealed my fate, have you?” TK groused.

At this, Owen softened his face. “I am sorry for being a bit pushy, but Mr. Reyes is the first man you’ve so much as made eye contact with of late. Is it so odd to wonder what about him brought you out of your self-imposed melancholy?”

“Who said I was out of my melancholy?”

“Your eyes whenever they met his.” Owen’s face was serious, no longer teasing.

“He makes me angry, is all. Anger is an emotion.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” And with that, Owen turned to climb into his own bed, the conversation abruptly halted and TK left wondering what his father thought he’d concluded from their exchange.

Lying on his own mattress across the hall, TK wondered at emotion. Sure, anger was an emotion. A useful one. But so was love, and he was determined to hold out for it.

_______

The morning after their first night in La Hacienda Reyes, TK woke with renewed energy to be devoted to forgetting Carlos Reyes even existed.

This endeavor proved extremely difficult when upon descending the stairs to the foyer, the man in question was seemingly awaiting him, pacing across the marble floor with agitated clicks of his boots. The sight brought TK up short, and he consequently forgot that his father was just behind him, causing Owen to collide into his back and sending TK tripping down the last two steps—

Straight into Mr. Reyes’ arms. They were pressed together so tightly for a moment that TK swore he could feel the other man’s exhales as they left his nostrils, softly caressing TK’s cheek as they went. One of his hands was gripped tightly on TK’s shoulder while the other had instantly wound its way around his waist to steady him.

It took TK an inordinate amount of time to catch his breath, all the while feeling that very firm body against his. As his senses returned, he felt himself blaze with the most furious blush at the proximity, and hurried to right himself. He nearly butted his head into the other man’s nose in the process, but proceeded to stand upright without further incident. He set about straightening his waistcoat before looking up and catching Mr. Reyes’ eye almost by mistake.

The other man seemed just as red in the face as he. They held each other’s gaze for a split second longer before TK was violently reminded that the incident had not happened in private, but that the whole of the ghastly encounter was overseen by his own father.

Owen asked, much too late in TK’s opinion, “Are you alright son? I apologize for being so clumsy there,” he added in address to Mr. Reyes.

The man of the house was the first of the pair at the bottom of the stairs to regain use of his tongue. “It’s quite alright, sir. No harm done.”

“That’s true, as you were here to prevent it. Lucky, that.”

TK thought to himself that he would like to disappear from this mortal plane rather than be party to his father’s smug innuendos, especially after their conversation last night and TK’s renewed vows of thoroughly avoiding the man of this house.

Mr Reyes, however, seemed unattuned to Mr. Strand’s jabs, and simply addressed them both again cordially.

“Good morning to you both, I hope you slept well.” They replied that they had, as was proper, despite TK’s own thoughts. He wasn’t about to share that . “I’ve actually come to offer you a tour of the grounds at my mother’s behest, and also in apology for my unmitigated rudeness upon your arrival.”

TK was inclined to believe the apology was also at the Doña’s behest, if not absolutely forced. She seemed a formidable enough woman to demand decorum from her adult son.

“I understand your company is pursuing the land in the northwest quadrant of the estate. It would be my pleasure to take you there so that you can survey at your leisure.”

“So early?” Owen asked. They had not yet broke fast.

“Yes sir, in order to avoid the humidity of midday, I thought we’d ride out closer to dawn. Our cook has packed some provisions in lieu of the breakfast meal.” At this, he gestured to a medium sized basket atop a side table by the door, apparently from which the scent of bacon—as TK had just caught on the air—was emanating.

To be quite honest with himself—which he would admit much, much later was not very honest at all—TK was not at all looking forward to spending the morning with Mr. Reyes and his ridiculously dashing seat on a horse. His father being there would temper his mood, but he’d rather spend the day walking about on his own, soaking in the fresh air and solitude of the country. Or even alongside his father and the Doña, negotiating the sale of her land, as Owen had expressed his desire that TK begin immersing himself in the business and he saw no better time than now, in avoidance of any extra time spent in Mr. Reyes’ presence.

The man made him hot around the collar and jittery, and the real problem was that TK was even more angry that neither of those emotions were particularly loathsome at the moment and he could not explain to himself why.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Reyes. Unfortunately, I really must sit down with your mother and ask her about some specifics regarding the provenances, so I must decline your kind offer.” At this, he turned to TK, who was already giving him wide eyes of panic before he even opened his mouth. “TK, would you be so kind as to accompany Mr. Reyes around the property? You know the general gist of what we are looking for, and you can report back to me with what you find. I’d really appreciate your help on this, TK.”

The man was practically grinning like a fool. TK thought he might keel over right there on the marble tiles of the Reyes’ foyer.

Mr. Reyes’ face was unreadable at the moment, but TK could imagine the line of his thoughts. The two of them no more wanted to spend time with each other alone than either would want a hole in the head.

Mr. Reyes, however, was the first to recover from the abrupt change in plan, with a direct capitulation that TK could have punched him for, had he been a less tactful man. “That…would be agreeable,” he said haltingly. He turned to look at TK, who schooled his countenance into something less vile than he felt this turn of events warranted. “Would that please you, Mr. Strand?”

Would it please him? Absolutely not.

“Of course, Mr. Reyes,” he said tightly, resigned to his fate. “I look forward to seeing your lovely estate and hearing its history.”

Mr. Reyes looked almost surprised at his cordiality, and TK congratulated himself on his capability of social falsehood.

_______

Their journey was to take them from the back of the house out and around the northwest corner of the ranchland where they would stop to breakfast at a small manmade lake and then south to the orchards, through which they would find themselves back at the west side of the house. All told, Carlos informed him, the trip would take them for six miles. TK resigned himself to a morning of misery, and judging by his would-be companion’s face, he was not alone in that regard.

Their basket of provisions securely fastened to Mr. Reyes’ saddle, and both saddles securely fastened to their mares, the pair set off in silence other than Owen’s shout of farewell from the porch.

They strolled along at a leisurely pace—too slow for TK’s regard—for quite a while before either spoke. Mr. Reyes looked over to TK with a judgemental eye before saying, “Watch for snakes in the grass. Flor will not spook at them, but she will spook if you do.”

“I’m not afraid of snakes,” TK snapped, although he couldn’t rightly say he’d ever seen one up close. “Furthermore, I am high on this horse, why would I worry about something as low as a snake?”

“Rattlers can jump. They’ll have your boot off and will have half devoured your leg before you can think to turn the horse.”

TK whirled to look at him, consequently causing Flor to twist toward Mr. Reyes and Jimena, putting them much closer than TK would like after their bout that morning. He knew his face was a mask of barely concealed horror, the image Mr. Reyes’ words had conjured up no less than tremendously frightening to a city gentleman.

Mr. Reyes’ face, however, was all mirth; his cheeks were reddening in the effort of holding back his obvious laughter, which he gave up the moment TK noticed his ruse.

“That was a bold-faced lie and you are a scoundrel for it,” TK muttered, feeling teased.

“I’ll take that judgement just to see the terror on your face again,” Mr. Reyes laughed. TK was determined not to acknowledge that the man had a nice laugh, a full bodied, soft-edged one that sent warmth down to the tips of TK’s toes. TK was also determined to keep the scowl upon his face for the whole of this journey, never mind the wrinkles he was likely to develop. Curse this loathsome cowboy and his ill intentions and his shining curls and his full lips. They lapsed into silence again for another half mile.

In his endeavor to ignore his companion, TK failed to notice how he was being closely regarded by said companion. He should have been able to feel the gaze upon the side of his face like sunlight as heavy and warm as it was, but alas he remained ignorant of it in favor of the beautiful countryside.

TK began to notice little strains of wildflowers growing on the gentle swells of hills here and there, their elevations no more than four or five feet. It was like looking at someone’s floral bedding that had been disturbed in sleep and not righted in the morning; soft, loved, and lived in, a safe place to come back to at the end of the day, a warm comfort to calm the tumultuous stresses one was apt to battle in the waking hours.

“The red and orange ones that reach toward the sky are called Indian Paintbrush,” Mr. Reyes intoned softly causing TK to turn his gaze away from the flowers in a startle. It had been so quiet he’d almost forgotten his company. “There,” Mr. Reyes pointed, urging TK to return his focus to the flowers. “That line there is all paintbrush. And the purple spiked ones are Horsemint.”

“Why are they so named? Do they taste of mint?” TK wondered aloud.

“I’m…not sure. I’ve never had occasion or urge to eat one. Perhaps the name means only horses would taste the mint, but Flor and Jimena do not seem so inclined either.” His chuckle was tacked on at the end, but it didn’t feel accusatory this time. It sounded as if TK had honestly stumped him with his question and he was considering the answer in earnest, but had ultimately come up short of a correct guess.

TK focused again on the sweeping little hills as they continued to trot along. “And the pink ones? What are they called?”

“Ah, I believe those are Evening Primrose. Those are the most prominent of the wildflowers here, as I’m sure you can tell. Quite boring to look at compared to the others, but a constant nonetheless.” His tone gave TK the impression that he, too, found the fields of flowers calming. It would make sense, seeing as this was his homeland. Or…was it?

“Have you always lived here? Or did your family come into the property recently?”

“My great-grandfather purchased the land at a pretty steep discount in twenty-six, just a couple of years after the Colonization Law took effect. He came far enough north that he wouldn’t be too crowded in with the rest of his countrymen, and settled the bit to the south of us, where the house is located. He did build it, but it was not as large as it is now. It’s been expanded with both generations since, I believe.”

“Your great-grandfather came from Mexico to settle?”

“Technically, this was Mexico still when he came, since the war for Independence was not won until thirty-six. But yes, he came from Guadalajara. He thought less over cultivated land would suit better for cattle ranching, and it turns out he was right. We now have three hundred head.” His voice was proud as he recounted the story, and TK was drawn in by the clear reverence he had for his family history. He wanted to hear more, so he asked after how the estate came to be so large.

“My grandfather negotiated the rest of the land from the tribes settled here at the time, which admittedly were so few in number that the endeavor was swift. He offered them fifty head and a handsome cash sum as well, and the deal was struck in accord. The tribe moved north to the central territories and are still there today I believe. We’ve had a few high ranking members as visitors in my youth, and they were always amiable and welcome.”

Mr. Reyes’ soft smile had drawn TK’s attention again and this time he let himself look. The man practically glowed as he talked of his heritage, his family, and it was rather intoxicating. TK wanted to ask after more, but it seemed they’d reach the aforementioned lake that they were to stop and break their fast beside. He allowed Flor to carry them to a stop at a suitable spot and dismounted, again allowing himself to watch as Mr. Reyes did the same. He was taken in by the same fluidity and grace as he had been the day previous, before their awful actual meeting.

TK was finding it hard to remember Mr. Reyes being crass yesterday, no matter how hard he tried.

In tandem, they  spread out an extra saddle blanket in the grass, still slightly damp from the morning dew. Their provisions were divvied up and tea was poured into metal cups, and TK was just about to take his first sip when Mr. Reyes spoke, and his tone bade TK listen carefully.

“Mr. Strand—“

Without rightfully thinking about it, TK interrupted him with, “Please, you should call me TK. Well, my name is Tyler, but only my father calls me that. Friends call me TK.”

Mr. Reyes looked taken aback for a moment, possibly at the implication of friends , but TK kept his face impassive. He’d not have them making a mountain out of a grain of sand such as a name. They were to be business acquaintances anyway, and they should address each other as such. All of Owen’s partners called him by his first name, so TK took a page from his book by extending the offer. It would help keep his mind firmly on their business relationship.

It absolutely was not so he could hear his name, both sharp consonants of it, softened in Mr. Reyes’ steady timbre.

“TK,” he corrected, and the named man swallowed a sigh at being proven right about the sound of it coming off those lips. “I would like to—that is, I am committed to—well, what I would like to say is—“ he halted, frowning down at an apple clutched in his own hand. He set the apple aside, and turned to TK directly.

“TK, I mean to sincerely apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was rude and judgmental without cause, and I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me that transgression, as I do hope we are able to work together seamlessly in this partnership.”

It seemed sincere, TK thought. The man’s eyes were fervent and his face was open in a way it hadn’t been since the Strands had arrived. For a moment, TK was lost in those eyes that reflected the climbing sunrise off the water of the small lake like Mr. Reyes was radiating the warmth of goodwill through his very irises. His eyes were soft, inviting, shining with their earnestness. It was a long moment before he spoke, which Mr. Reyes seemed to take as reservation but was in fact TK pure preoccupation with studying the man’s face at the most inappropriate of times.

“I do hope I haven’t ruined things between my family and yours,” Mr. Reyes went on. “It’s just that I—well I’m quite attached to my home here and my pride is tied up in what my forefathers accomplished.”

“To see it broken up and sold off is to admit defeat that this generation could not hold the line,” TK finished for him, and his eyes grew wide.

“Yes, precisely.”

“I have misgivings about that kind of thing also. My father built such a tremendous enterprise—nothing like the Vanderbilts of course, but sprawling in reach nonetheless. I…find myself at times overwhelmed with the prospect of taking it on alone.” It must have been the country air, the absence of all human life for a few miles, and the still burgeoning sunrise combined that made his tongue so loose with such intimate thoughts. Surely he was losing control of his faculties if he was given to sharing his heart in this way, TK mused.

Even so, Mr. Reyes’ face had not closed off yet; it remained open and inviting to those thoughts and perhaps welling up with some of his own to share, now that the barrier had lost a few bricks and they could see each other over their respective sides of the wall they’d built over the previous day and evening.

“But, you won’t do it alone, will you? You cannot inherit until you marry, by law,” Mr. Reyes reminded him. Those deep brown eyes were on him again, somehow more liquid than before. TK must be imagining things now. He blinked the line of thought away.

“Yes, that’s true. But who’s to say I’ll marry a man who wants to be involved in the railroad business? My true love may be a man of the arts, constantly shut away in his studio creating pieces to adorn our home and teaching our children to appreciate the craft of them. Or he may be a man strongly devoted to politics and spend months away from home campaigning for the betterment of the American people. Or he may prefer the country life to the city, and I must remain in the city for the business for the bulk of the year. So you see, I may yet end up running the business alone, even if my life will not be spent in solitude. If I marry for love, I’ll be glad of that connection regardless if I get help with the business. Help is not what I’ll be marrying; it will be companionship outside of worldly endeavors that will make it worthwhile.” The picture he’d painted for himself inside his head was content, and he noticed he’d closed his eyes for a moment while he’d intimated the details to Mr. Reyes.

When he opened his eyes and refocused on his company, he saw Mr. Reyes duck his head slightly, a faint blush high on his tanned cheekbones. TK wondered if the other man was embarrassed of the intimate turn their conversation had taken, and hurried to move them to more casual topics.

“I do apologize, Mr. Reyes, I did not mean to be overly familiar with you. God above, it must be the early hour that has me as yet unable to master all my faculties.”

“No, please, do not apologize. I simply—that is—I do…admire your candor and conviction. Marrying for love is not rare, but it is not the standard. To be so assured of your path in life is enviable. I admit I haven’t given much thought to it myself.”

“You don’t think of who you’ll marry?” TK asked. He’d thought of nothing else since he was a boy.

At this, Mr. Reyes’ eyes turned down for a moment, a cloud of something passing over his features before the sun shone through his expression again. “Not in the sense you’ve described, no. I supposed I always knew I would marry, because I knew I would not inherit the estate—though I do envy Rosa a bit—but I’ve never imagined what kind of man I would spend my life with. I always assumed I’d know who he was when he came along.”

Their eyes met and for a moment not even the crickets or birds or any other constantly buzzing creature could be heard. TK was the first to break it, albeit in a slightly hushed tone.

“And he hasn’t come along yet?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Mr. Reyes answered. He looked disinclined to elaborate. They gazed at each other a moment longer before Mr. Reyes broke the contact and gestured to their spread. “We should partake of Mrs. Smith’s generous meal. It seems she packed for much more than three this morning,” he laughed, and it only sounded a little forced. “I assure you, the fresh bacon cooked in rosemary will change your perspective on life the moment it hits your tongue.”

TK took the change in subject gracefully, also keen to step back from the precipice they’d found themselves on much too early in their acquaintance, truth be told. They’d forgotten themselves but no harm had been done, and they could go on as intended—as short-term business collaborators only.

_______

They rode the rest of the way around the western perimeter as the sun reached higher in the sky, Mr. Reyes pointing out landmarks here and there. Ostensibly this outing was for TK to survey the land for it’s viability for their project, and he was doing so, but he was also enamored with Mr. Reyes’ ability to guide them along with enthusiasm and grace. It was very clear the man loved his home and was deeply proud of it, and TK was entranced when he talked.

By the time they reached the apple orchard, TK had stopped deluding himself that he wasn’t fond of Mr. Reyes. He’d had his misgivings from the beginning, and for good reason, but there was a good man underneath the initial prickliness. Mr. Reyes could be likened to a cat protecting its young. Docile for the most part until his family was threatened, and TK could see where he’d felt that way initially. Mr. Reyes had come around quickly though and TK was not sure how much of that was due to his mother’s insistence and how much was just their conversation on this journey around the property in the early morning light.

“It smells so heavenly here,” TK mused aloud as the horses picked their way between the lines of trees. To be able to be abreast of each other to properly hold a conversation, the horses were so close that occasionally TK’s knee or thigh brushed against Mr. Reyes’. It startled him each time, even though he’d come to expect it. He supposed it startled his body but not his mind, which was a disconcerting feeling indeed, but not altogether unpleasant.

“They are called Gala apples. They thrive quite well here in the moderate rain. Would you like to try one?” Mr. Reyes asked. TK nodded with a small smile, and watched as Mr. Reyes dismounted Jimena and left her untethered. He turned back to TK and held out his hand. “Come along, it tastes better if you fetch it from the tree yourself,” he teased.

TK stared at the outstretched hand before taking it and dismounting gracefully, coming familiarly close to Mr. Reyes for the second time that day. This time, only their hands were touching as opposed to their whole bodies—as they had been on the stairs that morning—but it felt almost more intimate. TK noticed that they’d paused to regard one another again as they had multiple times on this journey. However, as they had done each time, they broke their gazes and their contact and went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The only problem was that each time it happened—and this incident more than all he rest—set his heart aflutter in such a way as to distract from all else in the moment. It took him increasingly longer to come back to himself each time.

He watched as Mr. Reyes took a wooden-runged ladder from a pile on the ground and set it against the trunk of the nearest tree. Deftly, he climbed a few feet, reached up, and plucked a ripe bit of fruit from one of the lower branches before coming down off the ladder assuredly, his steps practiced as if he’d done this a thousand times before. Perhaps he had.

TK held his hand out for the fruit, but Mr. Reyes pulled it back and away. “Ah, ah. This one is mine. I told you, it tastes better if you fetch it yourself. I set your example, now it’s your turn,” he said, spitefully taking bite out of his prize, then using it to gesture to the ladder.

Unfettered by Mr. Reyes’ teasing, TK was determined to show that he could keep up with his companion’s prowess. He approached the ladder, assessing it for any weak points before tentatively stepping onto the first rung. It bowed gently under his weight, and he paused a moment to gather himself.

He felt a hand upon his hip and froze for a moment, feeling distinctly untethered. Looking down, TK saw Mr. Reyes’ earnest eyes on him, one hand steadying TK on the ladder and the other still casually consuming his fruit. He gave TK a reassuring smile and nodded in the direction of the tree, encouraging.

The climb to the correct height took TK a bit longer than it had the cowboy who was used to such endeavors, but he managed. He plucked a juicy-looking specimen from a close branch before carefully climbing down, deliberately placing each footfall for optimum support from the wooden rungs below him. It was slow and arduous, but he accomplished it.

Once landed on the ground, he held up his spoil triumphantly. Mr. Reyes smiled.

“And now, Mr. City Gentleman, you have farmed apples!” He declared.

TK bit his lip for a half-second before being unable to hold back his mirthful laughter. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks ached with it, and it felt so good that he didn’t notice his companion was gazing at him once more, admiration and awe in his expression. When his laughter came down to a more manageable level a few seconds later, they were caught in each other once again, as they had been many times that day. TK’s smile was still spread across his face and he looked up through his lashes at Mr. Reyes to see a serenity over his countenance that had yet to be shown since they’d known each other.

It was beautiful.

Just as quickly as the moment had began, it passed, with Mr. Reyes fingering his collar away from his neck in what seemed like a nervous gesture. “The heat is beginning to get oppressive,” he offered in explanation, though said heat was not yet unbearable in the slightest. “We should retreat to the safety of the house.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I wonder if our parents have concluded their negotiations for the day. I’d like to convene with my father to let him know what I’ve seen.”

“Of course, well. Shall we?” Mr. Reyes gestured down the path between the trees, Jimena’s reins held loosely in his hand as he led her on foot. TK grabbed Flor’s lead and followed in quiet contemplation. He realized his manners had slipped.

“Thank you, Mr. Reyes, for this tour. It was enlightening, as well as a pleasant diversion.”

“You are most welcome. And please, call me Carlos. After all, we are to be friends, as you put it.” His smile was radiant.

“Carlos,” TK tried out the name on his tongue with a nod. It tasted like the smoothest brandy, and TK felt like he was already drunk off of one sip.

“I wanted to reiterate my apology, to make sure it is clear. I judged you and your father before I allowed you to state your intentions. Your plans for the land, so far as you’ve told me, will not impact our operation negatively and I get the distinct feeling it is your mission to keep things that way as you work your way across the country. So I thank you for your discretion, and I once again humbly ask you to forgive my behavior yesterday.”

“It is already forgiven!” TK tells him, wanting to put any and all ill will behind them after such a glorious morning. “Do not worry over it any longer. Let us be friends from this day forth.”

Carlos smiled so wide it momentarily arrested TK’s heart.

They reached the house in due course to find Elena on the porch frantically waving a piece of paper in her delicate hands. They tethered the horses to the post off the side of the house and approached. The girl looked as if she could barely form words through her excitement.

“Carlos!” She cried as they ascended the steps and removed their hats. “Guess who’s coming to the ball tomorrow night!”

“I’m sure you will tell me without me having to guess,” her brother teased good-naturedly, sharing a conspiratorial smile with TK as they passed into the foyer.

“Mr. de Castillo,” Elena said, giving the name a weight that surely meant something, but which TK could not discern. He’d never heard the name before, but then again he did not know the upper class set of this region well enough to know their names and statuses that might warrant such excitement.

When TK turned to face Carlos, he wondered what Elena could find so appealing that her brother seemed to find mildly horrifying, judging by his expression. His eyes cut to TK and they almost looked…guilty.

Elena went on, oblivious to her brother’s distress. “His letter is posted from Santa Fe nearly two weeks ago, and he says he should arrive just in time to dress and attend. Isn’t that marvelous news, Carlos? He hasn’t come east since the fall. Oh how we’ve all missed him.” She put emphasis on certain parts of her sentence that didn’t entirely make sense to TK, but he could feel a growing lump in the pit of his stomach as he watched Carlos’ face drain of color slightly.

“He sounds like a character who’s good to know, if his presence at a dance excites you this much,” he offered to Elena to try and ease the focus off of Carlos, for he seemed unable to speak at that moment.

“Oh, it’s not me he excites,” Elena said, cutting her eyes to TK’s right, smirking but saying nothing more. TK did not turn to look at Carlos again, because that lump in his stomach was getting heavier the more Elena talked and he was not rightfully sure he could put a name to it just yet. Looking at Carlos’ guilty face was surely to spell it out quicker than he’d like. He halted his train of thought and plowed on.

“Well, I look forward to meeting this esteemed Mr. de Castillo. You said he’s not come east—do you mean to say he is from the west coast?”

“Yes, San Fransisco! His father rushed there in forty-nine and made quite the coup. They’re able to give the Rockefellers a run for their money, I’d wager,” she said. “And he’s so handsome as well.”

That bit tacked on at the end was again delivered with a weighted look at Carlos which TK again ignored.

He was saved from replying to Elena’s last comment by his father and the Doña appearing in the foyer.

“What’s got everyone in a fuss?” Owen asked.

“Mr. Fernando de Castillo is coming to the ball tomorrow night!” Elena exclaimed, elated to share her momentous news with anyone who would listen.

“De Castillo…” Owen pondered, “Is that Isador de Castillo’s boy? Of San Fransisco?”

“Yes, the very same. Mr. de Castillo the younger visits us quite often, as he’s got business back east with his company and likes to stop for a week or so on his way through. We’ve all grown quite fond of him, especially Car—“

“That’s quite enough, Elena. The Mr.’s Strand are not interested in country gossip. Run along and find Constance to start your lessons. Your sisters are already studying while you’ve been flitting about.” The Doña’s voice was firm and clearly dismissive. She glanced at her son and TK in turn, before turning her attention back to Owen. “Mr. Strand, might we all go into the drawing room for tea? Our sons can regale us of their journey around the property.”

Owen’s smile was wide and eager as he looked to the two young men. “Of course, I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on the land, TK. The Doña and I will also impart to you what we’ve agreed upon thus far, though there are still the finer details to work out.”

Carlos immediately followed Owen into the room off the left side of the foyer, barely sparing TK a glance in contrast to all their lingering looks throughout the morning. That, combined with Elena’s cryptic words regarding their future guest, unsettled TK more than he would have liked. Still, he was determined to soldier on in his mission to become good friends and business partners with Carlos and the rest of the Reyes’, and he’d not let a silly thing like a matter of the heart—which may not even exist—get in his way.