#and the fact that she never got around to reading it

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Image #1: Tweet from verified user Nicole Cliffe (@/ Nicole_Cliffe) reading: If you normalized something (non-awful) because your family did it and then realized it was not, in fact, normal or remotely common, I would love to hear about it.

Reply from Morgan 51 Finkelstein (@/ momofink) on 08 Sep 20 reading: the villain in my bedtime stories was always the President of the Homeowner's Association and I was sooooo confused when no one else had heard of him

Image #2: Tumblr tags from you-held-the-door reading: #when I was kid my dad and I would play that game at the playground where the kids stays up on the climbing structure #and the adult stays on the ground to chase the kid #usually the adult is like a monster or a lava monster or something #but my dad always pretended to be george bush

Image #3: Tumblr tags reading: #my dad never let me roll down the windshield when we were on highways #because and I quote "the car is going so fast that the wind can topple cars" #and I just never questioned it until years later #turns out he just didn't like the noise #also another thing: #you know that game grown ups do with young children where they chase you around #and go "oh you're so cute I could eat you up! I'm going to eat ya!" that kind of thing? #well when my parents did that I used to go "no you won't, you guys love me. also I'm you're only child." #then my mom would go really silent and fake being contrite and tell me that #actually no I had an older sibling that they cannibalized #I only survived because I was a cute baby and they waited too long and I got too big to fit in the pot anymore #and it would make me really angry because I knew she was lying but I had no way to prove it #and mom thought it was the funniest thing ever #anyway I only found out in high school when I was trying for a "lol so relatable" type of joke with my friends that apparently #having a long-running joke that your parents had a dead first child that they cannibalized isn't a common thing that other families also do #mmari rambles

Image #4: Tumblr tags reading: #my family has a phrase for when someone eats most of something and leaves less than a serving of it left #(usually done to avoid having to throw it away. like leaving less than a cup of milk or just crumbs in a bag of chips) #we call it 'buddyFucking:' bc ur fucking your buddy over #apparently it came from my dad's time in the army #Anyways. i quickly learned when i went to college that when most people hear 'alright who buddyFucked me' #they do Not think i am asking who left one square of toilet paper on the roll without changing it /End IDs]

[jedisupernova]

old school love with choi seunghyun

notes minors dni contains fem reader, non idol au, seunghyun and reader are in their early twenties, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the late 2000s (hence the mention of specific phones, references to certain media, songs linked throughout, and party culture,) awkward yet cute first meeting, this very much slice of life, slight angst (a silly misunderstanding during the meet cute, reader brings up insecurities from not being experienced), tooth rotting fluff, a few appearances from jiyong because yes!, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader is inexperienced (never been kissed, never been confessed to; seunghyun is her first love), reader has strict parents which leads to seunghyun and reader having to sneak around, seunghyun and reader are down bad, smut (over the phone, in the car, oral f receiving, dirty talk, foreplay, p in v), and some inevitable typos.

requested? no, this is an original idea! this was initially inspired by the mention of old school love in this song by zayn. i've always heard of the concept, and this is my take on it, told through vignettes of gentle young love. please request something if you'd like, and don't hesitate to check my pinned post. i love this man tenderly. please tell me you see the vision. enjoy!

new year's eve 2007. there's still three hours to midnight, and seunghyun's wondering why he chose to wear a hoodie with long sleeves underneath to a crowded house party. luckily he's got his own corner of the compact living room, standing between two friends he hitched a ride with there—his third being the host—so he aptly distracted himself from how hot it was with their banter as best he could, laughing into his red solo cup before taking a swig of whatever concoction his friend mixed for him in the kitchen earlier tonight. he hid his soured expression over the taste well, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. seunghyun remembers asking for a rum and coke, and he can definitely taste the latter ... but he'd know his enemy smirnoff anywhere ... it was way too stuffy to move, so he humbly took the loss.

"there you fuckin' are!" seunghyun looked up to see jiyong, the one hosting who already looked as if the night had taken its toll. "holy shit, man. i've been looking everywhere for you guys!" seunghyun had to squint to hear him over the loud music. the fact there wasn't much lighting besides a few lamps and multi-colored rotating disco party lights didn't help either. "c'mon. she just got here—in the kitchen." jiyong motioned his head to the left, the trio following him into the crowd. the kitchen was much more well lit and slightly less congested, but seunghyun nonetheless had to put his weight against the fridge to grant enough room to stand comfortably. he offered a polite grin and wave to the friend group mainly comprised of women his age in front of him, the one in the middle introduced as jiyong's girlfriend. you were closest to the counter, the left of everyone, cracking open a hard seltzer you picked from the cooler stationed beside the sink. you grimaced after taking a sip, bringing the can to your eyes to see the flavor that wronged you: lime. "christ, that's horrible." you shook your head, expression soured.

seunghyun didn't overhear, because he was too busy looking over his shoulder in amazement upon hearing one of his suggestions for the party mixtape blare throughout the house. reverting his attention back with a smug grin on his face, his eyes fluttered past you tugging at the collar of your sweater, pulling at it repeatedly for what looked to be air flow. seunghyun wondered if the party felt like an oven to you, too, and if you overdressed like him, because he started fanning himself without realizing.

an hour later, he couldn't take it anymore. "be right back, i'm going out for a smoke." he told a friend sat beside him on the couch. he could not have cared less that it was below freezing outside, or that the leftovers from the snow storm three weeks ago had probably frozen over into patches of black ice littering the deck—he needed to cool off. he closed the sliding door with a relieved huff, the party now muffled. the feet of his sneakers crunched against the snow, hands pushing his hood off his head, fingers brushing through his sweaty hair. "holy shit." he muttered to himself, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. seunghyun could see his breath when he exhaled, and goosebumps rose along his bare arms, but as far as he was concerned, he would stay out here to ring in the new year if it meant he wouldn't have to suffer a heatstroke inside. he walked to a spot behind the wooden railing framing the entirety of the deck, his hand reaching into his pocket for his marlboros. he took out a cigarette, hanging it between his lips, searching for his lighter next. it was then he looked up and saw you standing at your own spot along the railing some feet away, having looked over your shoulder to see who else had come outside.

it was too late to ignore, or act like you didn't see each other, so he did the favor of making things less awkward. or trying to, as any twenty-something year old hopes: seunghyun took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. "hi," he spoke uncharacteristically quietly. "you're—" thank the universe he remembered her name, because the irrational nerves over making conversation were mounting quickly. "—friend, right?" you nodded. "you're jiyong's?" you asked. he smiled, nodding too. "i'm seunghyun. we met earlier, in the kitchen?" his tone asked if you remembered, his hand gesturing to the sliding door. "yes!" you responded a bit more enthusiastically than you intended to in your head, internally cringing. "i remember, i remember." you said, nodding. you didn't know what else to do. seunghyun must've felt the same, because he nodded at nothing.

you looked away from him, feeling flustered. he mimicked, hands balled up in his pockets. "you—" he cleared his throat. "you liking the party?" "hm?" you didn't expect him to continue the conversation. "yeah!" here you went again, sounding animated to the point that even he, a complete stranger, could tell you were over-compensating. "i mean," you let out a breath, shrugging your shoulders. "its okay. i don't really go to parties often, so i guess i could say i misjudged how hot it'd be to show up in a sweater with a thermal underneath." seunghyun exhaled through his nose, an upside down grin tugging at his lips. "i know." he agreed. "hot as shit in there, bro." you chuckled. "hot as shit indeed."

silence brewed. seunghyun didn't turn away, so you took it as your turn to fill the air. you pulled out the only card you had (bringing up a mutual friend,) even if he'd done so already: "how long have you—" the sudden dryness of your throat was certainly a sign from the universe to shut up, but it was too late to cut yourself off completely. you swallowed, continuing: "how long have you known jiyong?" "since we were kids. middle school, i think." seunghyun doesn't know why he implied he didn't know, because he certainly did. he also wondered why he nodded, again, at nothing. who boldfaced lied when they said your preteen years were the most awkward? because he wanted to curl into a ball right the fuck now. he was usually fine at making small talk, what was the difference now? why couldn't he stop nodding?? "how about you?" oh, great. now his voice was a noticeable octave higher, clearing his throat.

you knew what he meant. "we met each other our freshman year. she was in my first year seminar, and we kind of just clicked." "you go to school around here?" "mhm," you nodded. "the university that everyone we know goes to, it feels like." you quipped, making that upside down grin appear on his face again. "how about you?" "the community college that no one goes to." he answered, voice back to normal. "but i'm in the middle of transferring there, funnily enough." then ushered in another characteristically young adult conversation: your studies. it was standard and harmless. even so, you came across a different reason to break a sweat despite the bitter cold beginning to numb your cheeks, or the sharp, quick breaths through your periodically chattering teeth. seunghyun took a step closer to you in the midst telling an anecdote about the last exam he had before the holiday break, inadvertently putting himself in your direct line of view. you realized not only oh, wow. he's pretty tall, to yourself, lifting your head a little to look at him, but also oh, wow. he's pretty cute, when your eyes met. or when he continued looking at you, because he finished saying his piece some seconds ago, yet you hadn't said anything. the fleeting silence only made you become more flustered, really coming to terms with just how fine he is; all clashing with how you have no idea how to talk to someone this attractive.

"yeah, that sounds fucked up." you attempted to mask the fact that you did not process a word of what he just said with a chuckle, gaze lowering momentarily to your hands, tugging at your sleeves to shield them from the cold, or just to do something. the words felt foreign in your mouth—your inner monologue making you feel like you were trying too hard—though you weren't allergic to profanity whatsoever. seunghyun smirked to himself, his own gaze falling to the snowy deck, until you spoke: "i had, like, three exams all in one day—the day before break." you said, glancing up at him before chickening out, reverting back to your hands which were completely engulfed by your knit sweater. your thumb poked out of the sleeve, nail picking at a fraying thread. "i guess i'm still feeling the repercussions of it." the volume of your voice dwindled somewhat coupled your shy grin, your shoulders shrugging, looking up at him. even through his chuckle with a smile making the corners of his eyes kiss, or his affirming "its brutal. i get that.," you mentally berated yourself: holy shit, is that the best i can do? just continue talking about school? get yourself together!

the next bout of silence lasted for at most ten seconds, but with how you were scrambling, it felt like years; working against an invisible timer. unbeknownst to him, this was seunghyun's turn to look at you. the only word coming to mind was sweet. he was smart enough to put two-and-two together as to why you were, admittedly, visibly nervous as he's had a girlfriend before. he wasn't the type to use that to inflate his ego, but found it charming nonetheless. seeing the curvature of your cheeks when you looked down made his heart soften—his lips molding into that damn knowing grin—and it could've very well been the minute gust of wind, but the glint in your eyes when you looked at him, nodding politely ... he was a little taken aback. you were devastatingly adorable.

your eye caught the cigarette in his hand. "you smoke?" you blurted out without an iota of a thought, so quick that your tone was almost bland—a moment where the subconscious beat rationale. oh my god. you momentarily closed your eyes, shocked at yourself. are you kidding me? seunghyun held in a laugh, trying his best to wipe his smile off his face when you opened your eyes. you mistook it as a sign of second-hand embarrassment. "oh my god. i'm so sorry, i don't know why i said—" "—it's okay, you're good." seunghyun shook his head as further affirmation, waving his free hand. he had completely forgotten he was still holding the cigarette, anyway. "but, yeah. i do. sometimes." his face started to feel warm. not because he felt shamed, or belittled, or judged, but because he caught sight of your eyes again. he could've sworn they'd grown in the last fifteen seconds. "d—do you?" he suddenly became very aware of how deep his voice is. "my voice has always sounded like this." he explained, gesturing to his throat. he knew he was being irrational, but like you before, it was too late to cut himself off. "i'm not like—uh—dying, or anything." he brushed off with an animated chuckle.

you felt like the worst person in the world. the nervous smile on your face didn't move a millimeter. "i don't." you shook your head. "and it's okay! i didn't mean to—i like your voice." your eyes widened. seunghyun raised his eyebrows. "you do?" he couldn't hide his smile. he returned the boldness, even if yours was a slip of the mouth. "i like your face." he meant it. there isn't a timeline out there where that wouldn't be the truth. your surprised expression made him exhale through his nose, an admiring grin on his face. oh, he wanted you. flashes ran through his head: squishing what looked to be the softest cheeks in the world between his palms, pulling you close to his chest to help you warm up; pressing his cheek against yours as a makeshift heater since you've truly made him that flustered, and how you'd react upon him calling you "my girl." sure, he was moving a little quickly, considering he's just realized he never asked for your name, but that's what just crushes do. seunghyun could not help the dream-like state he entered, placing his hand on the railing, the unlit cigarette slipping from his fingers, lost in the grass below. you, on the other hand, were speechless. never before have you ever been flirted with—this was flirting, right? like, you weren't misreading anything, or making shit up? "you ... you do?"

before seunghyun could answer, the sliding door opened, the ruckus of the party no longer blocked out. "seunghyun!" it was jiyong. "it's thirty minutes 'til the ball drop. i need help setting up the champagne." jiyong saw you, nearly cowering at seunghyun's scathing look reading are you fucking serious? "m-my bad, you guys." jiyong laughed awkwardly, putting a hand up in surrender. "seunghyun, just come in whenever." the door closed, leaving you two alone again. you were sheepish out of your goddamn mind, unable to look at seunghyun, content with the fact that your eyes may just stay on the deck forever. "i meant it, by the way." you looked up. "hm?" "i like your face." seunghyun repeated. your full smile that appeared ... his knees might have buckled. "oh," a giggle left your lips. yeah, he was a goner. "thank you. i ... i like your face, too." your voice was gentle. it felt indescribable, flirting back. you weren't sure if you were doing it right, considering you were suddenly really interested in the shape of your pointer finger's nail bed right about now, thwarting this fire-pit of feelings in your chest ... to be desired, chatted up, or pursued like this ... by a fine ass man nonetheless ... after being sidelined for your whole life, watching your friends experience something you wanted so badly too. oh my goodness—maybe your friends weren't just trying to make you feel better when they told you ad nauseam that it comes when you least expect it. because out of everything, and you mean everything you expected to happen tonight, this wasn't even in the realm of the realm of the utmost realm of possibilities.

you warded off wanting to hold his hand by interlacing your fingers together. seunghyun couldn't stop the stupidly big smile stretching across his face if he tried. "cool," he said, nodding. "that's .... that's cool." his hand came up, scratching the back of his neck. "listen, i .. uh—" he gestured to the door. "i gotta go back inside and help jiyong with the—with the champagne. could i get your number? i'll call you tomorrow, if that's okay with you." "yes!" your heart stammered over how he smiled so big his eyes smiled with him. seunghyun gave you his nokia flip phone, letting you type your number in. "call yourself so you can have my number, too." said seunghyun, pulling his sleeves back down. you did so, satisfied hearing your phone ring, pulling it out of your pocket to end the call. "i never got your name." he said, putting his phone back into his pocket. when you told him, he didn't stop his inner monologue from adding his surname. call it a random impulsive thought or whatever, but he was being serious. "i'll see you inside?" he asked, halfway through walking to the door. "mhm!" you responded. "see you inside." seunghyun smiled, disappearing back into the party. you missed his fine ass already . . .

so there you were, the next evening, repeatedly glancing at your phone. you felt fine for a majority of the day; sleeping in after coming home late the night previous, treating your hovering hangover with plentiful amounts of water and falling asleep yet again, but within the first hour of fellowship of the ring (it was your first time in recent years defying your self-made new year's tradition), and hurriedly bringing your phone within eyesight if it did so much as beep. you wondered if seunghyun would actually call . . . it all seemed too good to be true . . . and you hoped that he'd just magically show up, looking over your shoulder and out the living room window for his car (did he even have one?) and walk up to your door (he hasn't the faintest clue where you live) with a bouquet of roses (he doesn't know they're your favorites. well, at least not yet) to profess his undying love to you (working on that too. the to do list is in your head). so when your phone rang after dinner, your hair still very much wet from your shower; the towel having just been thrown behind your desk chair, you momentarily froze. you grabbed your phone from your desk, confused by the unknown number. but then you recognized the area code as your own, realising that in the midst of your yearning, you completely forgot to save his number.

you pressed the answer button, bringing your phone to your ear. "hello?" "hey!" my goodness, it wasn't too good to be true. "happy new year! i wasn't able to find you after the ball dropped. so, yeah. here's me wishing you." he descended into a short, slightly nervous chuckle. he was looking for me!? oh my god!? "happy new year," you said back, closing your bedroom door. "you were looking for me? i left at around two, i think. how about you?" "five, maybe." seunghyun dodged the other question, his face already feeling warm not even a full minute in. "jiyong needed help cleaning up, and kicking people out." "five!?" you exclaimed, sitting on the edge of your bed. "and here i was, fighting sleep all day, whereas you sound unscathed." seunghyun laughed heartily. "i slept in until, like, two today. so i wouldn't say i was completely unaffected." "that's fair." you nodded, despite him not being able to see.

"how about you, hm?" he asked, voice smooth and low, even over the grainy audio. "did you sleep good?" "i did. better than usual." seunghyun smirked, fingers toying with the drawstring cords of his sweatpants. "how about you?" he heard your sweet voice ask. "i slept good, too. knowing i'd be talking to you the next day." you hid your eyes behind your palm, elbow resting atop your thigh. how you were able to get words out, you had no idea. "seunghyun," he could hear that on a loop for the rest of his life and he would die a happy man. "you can't just say shit like that." "why not?" the gentle, yet teasing lilt to his words made you feel dizzy. it was as if the universe finally aligned in your favor. what he would do to see the look on your face right now . . . "what? have you never been flirted with, or something?" he quipped playfully without much thought. "i haven't, no." you answered truthfully. "but you still can't say shit like that, seunghyun. i need a warning or something. it's like my mind stops working." you chuckled, pressing your phone to your ear like its the last thing you'll ever do.

seunghyun's eyebrows flinched in and out of a furrow. "no one's ever flirted with you? what do you mean?" the question aired out before thinking. the realised insensitivity of his words coupled with the unintended belittling tone made him backtrack almost immediately: "that was low of me to say. i'm sorry, that's my bad completely." he shook his head completely. "it's okay!" you shook your head, too. "you didn't know. it's fine." you took a breath. "but if we're being honest . . . no. i've never done anything like that before. i'm more used to seeing it happen to other people than experiencing it, if that makes sense." "it does." seunghyun was quick to affirm, nodding whilst he listening to your words carefully. "yeah," your palm slid up and down your thigh, subconsciously trying to self-sooth. "so . . . last night, when we were talking . . . i thought you were making fun of me. or pulling my leg. but then i realised my brain just wasn't letting me accept that . . . oh, this guy might think i'm cute, too." "i do. i do think that." seunghyun sat up in his bed, determined. "i would never do that. i'm not that type of guy. i don't know who you've met, or made you feel like this, but know i'm not like that."

there was a brief moment of silence from your end of the call. "are you sure you're not just saying that to me to be nice?" "of course not." he said sincerely, tone soft. "of course i'm not saying it to be nice. i mean it. i'll be honest, when i met you last night, you have some of the most kissable cheeks i've ever fucking seen." he pulled his legs up to sit criss-cross. this was serious to him. "how about when you casually mentioned you won an award for a policy paper you wrote about education? i didn't know i'd be at the same party as the future president." "oh my god!" you laughed, face feeling as if it was ablaze. "you're crazy." "look, people have decided to miss out on you, but i won't. are you free on friday? no—scratch that, we're on break until next week. are you free tomorrow?"

for the first time in your life, you didn't feel the need to convince yourself you were worthy of romance, because the universe rooted for you, too. "i am. all day." you said. "i'll take you to dinner. do you want to see a movie?" "i like them, yeah. but . . . i mean, i was watching fellowship of the ring earlier today." just say it. he's right there, on the other side of the line. just say it. ". . . but, i like talking to you. i'd—" you cleared your throat. "i'd rather do that then wait two hours to—uh—do so, if that makes sense." your palm started soothing your thigh again. seunghyun had the stupidest smile on his face. he refrained from hiding his head underneath his pillow. "but we can watch a movie! next time! if that's . . . if that's what you want!" your eyes closed in defeat, hiding your face from no one. "oh god, i'm digging myself into a hole here. i have no idea how to do this." "you're doing really well." said seunghyun. "enough to make my face feel like i have the highest fever ever." "you too." you responded sheepishly. "we'll finish fellowship of the ring on our second date. it's my favorite after return of the king, anyway." you hit the jackpot. "okay," you responded, how fucking sweet you sounded made his heart palpitate. "sounds good, seunghyun. i can't wait."

three months later, you beginning to feel those love songs you've heard all your life were onto something. something you come to terms with would pass you by as a way to cope—but here he was now, bending down onto his knee in the middle of a busy bookstore to tie your shoelace; buying the cds of your favorite artists that you mention either intentionally or off-the-cuff, downloading them to his ipod to listen in between lectures, doing coursework, or storing them into his cd wallet in the center console of his car to listen on his way to pick you up; or spending a lot of his time kissing those precious cheeks ("you're so sweet, you know that? so pretty, too." "seunghyun . . ." "see, that's what i mean.") he's a very smooth talker, doting, and affectionate. primarily because he cannot get enough of the look on your face whenever he makes a move, but also because you breath more life into him when he does so. to seunghyun's fault, however, he can get a little ahead of himself, and forget how shy you can be. so when the tension had been brewing throughout the entirety of your third date, you two sat in bashful silence in his car, him parked some feet away from your house. the music had since been lowered; one of the many cds he's bought since you started dating. seunghyun leaned over the center console towards you, only to retract somewhat when he heard a small gasp. "i'm sorry," he said. "did i—was that too quick?" "no, no. it's okay." you nodded in reassurance. "i just . . . i've just never kissed anyone before. sorry, i know that probably sounds really annoying by now." your hands were in your lap, thumb running over your knuckles to thwart the warmth traveling up your neck.

seunghyun shook his head. "its not. i told you its not." he said sincerely. its true, he has told you that it is and will never be a problem. how he giggles over the phone and presses kisses onto the back of your hand whenever he holds it serves as testament, but that voice in your head can be a bit louder. "i want to." you tell him, eyes meeting with his. seunghyun looked so fine it was almost offensive; his grown out black hair and choppy bangs messily framing his face albeit with effortless charm. he's told you he thinks it makes him look weird, hence how often he wears beanies and puts his hood up, but the moment you muttered "i think it makes you look really handsome," over the phone two nights ago, he showed up tonight letting it breath no problem. "but i don't know how." you told him, shaking your head. "its okay, baby," seunghyun reassured tenderly. it was the first time he called you that pet name, but he didn't think twice as it felt akin to natural instinct to call you that. you, on the other hand, were struggling to keep it together in the passenger's seat. i only have so much strength as a woman . . . you thought to yourself.

"we'll take it slow. just close your eyes and take a breath for me, okay? the rest'll come naturally. i promise." "okay." you nodded, trusting him. seunghyun leaned in again. you saw his eyes glance at your lips before returning to yours, your lids darkening your vision only when his nose brushed against yours. his lips were soft and wet as he had licked them before kissing you. yours were so fucking warm against seunghyun's, making him want to kiss you all the more harder, but he steadied himself, reconnecting gently. the side of his nose nestled against yours. "how was that?" he whispered. the cd had finished playing, so the car was quiet besides you and him. "good." you whispered back. "how did i . . . how did i do?" "good," he nodded, glancing at your lips again. "just . . . try kissing me back. don't think about it," your felt his hair tickle your forehead as he shook his head. "i know you'll be good."

to his delight, you were the one that closed the small gap between you. the kiss was so soft, almost nurturing; all the more intoxicating. you reconnected the kiss, pressing your lips onto his in a way that made his arms feel like tv static. "a little softer." he murmured, half-talking to you, but more-so to himself to come down. seunghyun went to kiss you again, but his lips landed on the corner of your opened mouth. "i-i'm sorry." "no, no. it's okay, baby," he tutted softly. christ, that fucking voice of his was going to end you one day. "come here. come here, baby." he got your lips back on his, but you broke it again, obscenely flustered. your heartbeat was in your temples, your palms sweaty in your lap. "seunghyun," you pleaded in that voice he would go to fucking war for. "you can't just call me that." "i can, and i will." he said. "now, come here, baby."

his hand reached over, holding both of yours beneath his palm. you brought a hand up to his jaw when he kissed you, feeling him hum against your lips in encouragement. seunghyun tilted his head a little to the left, deepening the kiss but not by too much, monitoring your reaction. his muscles relaxed upon feeling your exhale through your nose brush along his cheeks. the kiss ceased after a few moments by you once again, only this time to catch your breath. he rested his forehead against yours, breathless himself. "you're really good at this." he said, heartbeat stuttering when he heard your quiet "thank you." seunghyun blurted out this next question without much thought or reason, since he imagined the moment where he asked this to be more romantic, but he simply could not hold himself back: "can i—can i be your boyfriend?"

"yes, yes you can." you responded. both of your hands now held either side of his face, feeling his hand squeeze your thigh a little. "you can be my boyfriend, seunghyun." a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "i'll—i'll get you flowers and card, and ask you more properly next time." "its okay, its fine." you nodded against his forehead. your thumb traced his bottom lip, "just kiss me right now. i—i need—" you did not need to tell him twice. seunghyun reunited your lips, hand gripping your thigh when your fingers slipped into his hair.

even though you were well over the appropriate age to start dating, you just knew your parents would freak out if they knew you were running around with a boy. you didn't even think to employ the thought; it just wasn't an option. it would be something about distracting yourself from your studies (your grades were nowhere near subpar), or moving too quickly (hey! you're in college, by the way), or being subject to the ongoing mass, unreasonable hysteria over teen pregnancy perpetuated by national news editorials and shitty reality shows, making parents believe by standing near the opposite sex their daughters will somehow be with child (again, you're in your twenties and in college, and its also not your fault parents around the country treat mtv like its the second coming of the satanic panic of the eighties)—so you saved yourself the trouble. seunghyun understood wholeheartedly and took no issue with it, but that doesn't mean he didn't dare go against the grain.

a week before your two month anniversary, your ringtone rang, slightly muffled atop your duvet. you got up from your desk chair, leaving your coursework behind and walked to your bed, clicking the green call button. "hi seunghyun," your voice was soft. "everything okay?" "hey baby," he said. "i'm good, i'm good." he stuffed his free hand into the pocket of his puffer jacket, shivering. "how was your day, hm? i missed you." "fine," you answered, keeping your phone to your ear by raising your shoulder, flipping your textbook to the next chapter you needed to read to complete an assignment. "just a lot of work to do. you know how sundays are. i missed you, too." "i know, baby." his hand left his pocket, using the side of his thumb to wipe his nose. "you know, i'm happy to hear that you missed me, because i'm outside." you raised your head, alarmed, eyebrows knit in confusion. "what do you mean you're outside?" "i mean that i'm outside." "outside where?" "your window." his laugh was masked with a cough. "shit—it's really cold out here, baby." he muttered, looking around at the street lamps, his car parked some distance away. your room was on the lower floor of your family's home; the window on the side of the house and had some height to it, but not enough to ward off seunghyun's idea. so here he was, acting on it.

you hurriedly closed your bedroom door. "are you crazy!?" you whispered. "it's freezing outside! how long have you been out there?" "about ten minutes," seunghyun's tone was calm, as if it was just another day. "there isn't that much distance between your house and the street, but it took a while because i had to avoid the frozen over snow." "you're insane." you muttered. he smiled even wider. "let me see you, baby. c'mon. i miss you." you hung up the call. seunghyun watched the window before him, his upside down grin showing proudly when the curtains opened, revealing you. the snow crunched crisply underneath his feet, walking up when you unlocked and opened the window. "you're utterly insane," you said, resting your elbows on the windowsill, hearing him laugh. "its almost midnight. we both have class early tomorrow, and my parents could wake up at any moment!" you voice descended into a loud whisper. seunghyun waved his hand dismissively. "what did i tell you the other night? i'll drive you. you don't need to take the bus anymore." he spoke quietly, understanding the circumstance, even if he enjoyed teasing you. "you know what else you did the other night that you could've done now? call me." you retorted, but it was really hard to act upset. "you don't like my gesture?" he asked, not hiding his knowing smirk. "i'm saying you saw me two days ago, and you're seeing me every day before our anniversary." "i'd see you every hour in between, if i could."

you didn't have anything smart to say, so you succumbed to your flustered state. seunghyun, looking so princely in his puffer jacket with no beanie in sight, the distant cast of your nightside table lamp weakly illuminating his slightly reddened cheeks from the bitter cold, stepped closer. "give me a kiss and i'll go, baby. just needed to see you." your knees nestled onto the carpeted floors, your torso leaning out the window. seunghyun grabbed onto the ledge, hoisting himself onto the tips of his toes. it was enough for his head to be leveled with your bedroom, but not for long as his eyes fluttered closed to the feeling of your palms holding his face, bringing your lips to his in a tender, sweet kiss. his chin brushed against the ledge, tightening his grip when he re-connected the kiss, feeling his mouth thaw from the cold and ignoring how his under arms were beginning to burn. "can't last twelve hours without you." he murmured against your lips. "learn to." you whispered, kissing him back. "don't wanna." seunghyun took a quick breath when you kissed him one last time, the soft squeak of your lips parting making him feel light-headed.

he watched you in a daze when you returned to resting your elbows against the windowsill; you were as beautiful as a deity, so effortless with your allure. a content smile appeared on his face, eyes twinkling. "thank you, baby." his voice was smooth, turning his head to kiss your palm upon your fingers fixing his hair. he slowly let go of the ledge, paying no mind to how his palms ached. he glanced below him, "i'm sure if i bring a step stool big enough, it'll be no problem next time—" "—next time?" seunghyun looked up. "what? you don't want there to be a next time?" he asked, that goddamn teasing lilt in his voice. "i . . . i do." you spoke so sweetly, he thought he could muster the strength to jump inside. "but at least tell me ahead of time so you won't freeze to near fucking death."

seunghyun kept his word, because the night after your anniversary, he was back outside your window equipped with a step stool. thus began your very risky sneaking around: his arrival at your window at around 10 pm (or thirty minutes later if you went on a date, giving you enough time to return home without suspicion over where you've been, shower, and get ready for bed; either way, he was waiting for your signal of opening the curtains), speed walking to your window after locking his car, step stool in the other hand, climbing into your room after you opened your window, and settling beside you in bed. you spoke in the quietest of whispers, giggled into each other's shoulders, and shared delicate kisses. other times, you brought out your portable dvd player, snuggling into his chest whilst his arms wrapped around you. "my baby. my beautiful girl." he murmured into your supple skin before planting kisses on your forehead, laying his head atop yours. you two read the subtitles in peaceful silence—not daring to raise the volume—either fighting sleep or keeping awake with each other's lips.

he usually left at around one, but one night on the cusp of four months together, both of you fell asleep. you stirred awake, feeling the dvd player lodged uncomfortably underneath your thigh, gradually turning onto your side. seunghyun was in sound slumber, breaths coming in quiet, but curt whistles. your room wasn't completely dark, squinting at the lamp you forgot to turn off next to your bedside digital clock. you jolted awake upon seeing the time: 4:17 AM. "oh my god—" you murmured to yourself, yanking the duvet off of you and getting up in a panic. you turned to seunghyun's sleeping state in utmost dread, remembering he's a deep sleeper, and its a battle to wake him up. "fuck!" you whispered. you tried to think of something, lifting to the duvet further, spotting his ipod and wired headphones. you grabbed it, seeing it there was still half charge. you turned seunghyun's head upright, lodging the headphones in his ears. you scrolled through his library briefly, turning the dial to amp up the volume. "i'm sorry." you whispered apologetically, clicking play.

he stirred awake, sitting up on his elbows, headphones falling out of his ears. "whhaa—" "seunghyun? seunghyun, baby? its four in the morning." you whispered. he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. "its four am?" he mumbled, voice riddled with slumber, sounding lower than usual. "yes, baby," you whispered, the bed dipping next to him as you sat. "we fell asleep. i—i don't think my parents came in. but you have to go home." "i know. i know, baby." seunghyun mumbled, pushing the duvet off his jeans. "just—just give me a moment." "thank you." your hand lay on his cheek, bringing the closer one to your lips. seunghyun puckered his lips, still lost in his lingering sleep, humming lowly in satisfaction when he felt your chaste kiss. he climbed out of bed, leaving his ipod behind, stuffing his feet into his shoes by the window. you unlocked it, hearing him yawn, his palm covering his mouth. "i'll come back at ten." he told you, more awake than before. "okay." you spoke softly, entering his usual embrace, your arms wrapping around one another. "i'll see you then. call me when you get home." "i will, my beautiful girl." his breath was hot against your temple—your height only barely reaching his shoulder—pressing a kiss onto your skin before you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. his thumb kept your chin in place, kissing you back. "i love you, baby." "i love you too, seunghyunie." with that, he climbed out of your window. he grabbed the step stool, walking to his car. the sunrise peered over your neighborhood, only to be shunned out with the closing of your window and drapes. it wasn't until you tucked the dvd player and his ipod away in your nightside drawer did you realize . . . wait . . . we just said i love you.

weekends are typically reserved for dates which largely consist of getting coffee, taking the train into the city to visit museums (and seunghyun nudging his forehead into your temple shyly whenever you lock your arm with his), or passing time walking throughout the mall; looking through various shops and boutiques with your hand in his (and him keeping his gaze on the kay jewelers for a little longer than he intended), sitting next to you as opposed to across during dinner, and ending the night by making out in the backseat of his car. your hand on his cheek, his on your thigh; tongues in fair play. you broke the kiss to look at the small analog clock on his dashboard, biting your bottom lip when his lips found their usual spot on your neck, barely hiding your whimper. "fuck." he muttered, moving to the other side of your neck. his hands rested on either of your hips, humming in content upon feeling your fingers find his hair. "s-seunghyun," you fought to keep your eyes open. "it's 11:10. i have to go inside." "your parents can wait five more minutes." he said. the feeling of his voice vibrating against your skin made your eyes roll back, thighs rubbing together. a small gasp reverberated through the car when seunghyun started running his tongue repeatedly over a spot of your warm skin, sucking and popping off of it. "i really have to go inside—" "—at least let me finish this, baby. the last one healed too quickly." "o-okay," you let out a shaky breath, holding the back of his head, letting your eyes flutter closed. "don't make it too big." "i won't."

sundays were spent at the university library. you two are in your own worlds, sharing a spacious table with various pieces of coursework, required readings, and notebooks sprawled out in a way that only makes sense to your respective minds—seunghyun with his hood up, wired headphones in and reading glasses on. your pen cap between your teeth whilst you read the third of five passages for an upcoming essay you had due; back and forth between taking notes and highlighting lines. you didn't study together much during the week since your lectures did not align most days. but on the mornings where it did, neither of you having classes until the afternoon, seunghyun came over no matter the time he slept or if he was there the night previous, but neither of you studied. he meant it when he said he would spend every hour with you if he could, because he wakes up early just to be with you. it doesn't matter if its to fall right back asleep in your bed after your parents left for work at nine, he was there.

his personal favorites were early saturday afternoons (bonus points if you were going to a party later that night): him laying on top of you, his temple against your chest, taking a nap. he would fall asleep to the sound of you turning the pages of your book, coupled with the steady rise and fall of your chest. by the sound of his quiet snores, you started to feel sleepy by proxy. you would give in after nearly dropping the paperback book on his head, putting it aside on your bedside table. your hand reached down your side for his hand, fishing it out of the warm duvet to set an hour timer on his watch. you brought the pads of his fingers to your lips, kissing them softly before nestling in for your own nap, holding your baby close to you.

you loved and trusted each other to the point of peaceful co-existence. you and seunghyun were alone in the house one saturday evening; him in your room, you in the bathroom down the hall. you were going to a mutual friend's party to dually celebrate both her birthday and the end of finals week that night. your bedroom door was wide open, seunghyun overhearing the rustling of your makeup bag as his eyes looked through your shelf of cds. songs in a minor, alicia keys .... everyone else is doing it, so why can't we?, the cranberries .... b'day, beyoncé .... parachutes, coldplay .... his copy of pink floyd's dark side of the moon that he lent you a couple weeks ago .... grace, jeff buckley .... until he came across the miseducation of lauryn hill towards the front of the shelf, carefully pulling it out and opening the case. he placed the cd in your player on the shelf below, closing the lid and pressing play. he skipped to track 4, lowering the volume to have it blend seamlessly into the background, feeling content.

"seunghyun?" "yeah, baby?" he called back. he turned around, seeing you at the doorway, holding two eyeliner pencils in your hand. "which one: black or dark brown?" he walked over, taking the pencils from your hands, looking them over his palm. "hm. . ." he pondered with genuine thought. "this one is metallic," you pointed to the dark brown liner. "so it has a little shine to it." "i remember," seunghyun nodded. "you wore this one when we went for brunch a couple weeks ago. it looked really pretty." "thank you." you said quietly, glancing down at the carpet. you still felt flustered receiving his compliments, even nearly half a year into your relationship. "so the brown liner, then?" "mhm." "okay. thank you, my love." your hands reached up to his face, bringing him in for a quick kiss. "anything for you, my beautiful girl." said seunghyun, placing purposeful kisses onto your temple and cheek.

you took the liners from him, your sweet laughter ringing in his ears as his arms made residence around your waist, pulling you close to him. your arms took in his shoulders, giggling at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing a part of your exposed shoulder from the loose collar of your shirt. "my beautiful, beautiful girl." he murmured into your soft skin, kissing your lips once more. you loved how clingy he could be . . . though he would look like a deer in headlights, melting into a puddle of his own pride if it was pointed out. he loved being called seunghyunie. better yet, add "my" in front of that, and he'll have to take laps around the room. he's buried his head into your neck on many nights he snuck over, or even in his own bed, hiding his bashful state with incoherent mutterings of anything from "i'm going to go into heart failure early in my life" to "you make me lose all reason, and i love it."

you kissed him back, feeling his tongue collide with yours. seunghyun went in again, but you parted your lips, turning your head as a smile stretched across your face, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. "you're my big baby." you said sweetly, looking up at him. "my big, tall baby, seunghyunie. how's that, hm?" you erupted into a fit of giggles when seunghyun's forehead fell against your temple—a tell-tale sign that you hit the right bashful nerve—that, as far as seunghyun was concerned, sounded a whole lot like wedding bells. "baby . . ." he elongated his last syllable, voice so low it took a moment to understand. "see? you're already living up to the name." you said. your arms slid off the back of his shoulders, hands resting atop them as best they could whilst you held the liners, briefly standing on your toes to kiss his lips. "i have to go get ready." seunghyun's arms left your waist, resting on your hips. "i like the nickname." he admitted in a murmur. "i know." you nodded. "and i love you, too." "i love you so much." seunghyun couldn't help himself, lips peppering kisses onto the supple skin of your cheek, planting a final one on your lips.

one thing about seunghyun is he loves parties, but none more than being able to show you off. so when he's sat on one of the stools lining the host's kitchen island, you stood between his legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his are tenderly around your waist; hands traveling your lower back—he feels like the hottest shit because he's got the hottest fucking girl. he will unabashedly pepper sweet kisses onto your neck and cheek if you're talking to somebody, or press his cheek against yours as you people watch together from your spot in the kitchen; giggling amongst yourselves in a way that would make even a pessimist's heart begin to thaw. it tugs at his heartstrings even more-so when you find him later in the night after catching up with your friends, a little tipsy with your red solo cup in hand, making residence on his thigh. seunghyun carefully took the cup out of your hand after the drink sloshed around in the midst of your abrupt movement, setting it on the coffee table before his hands dotingly rubbed the side of your thigh, looking up at the love of his life. he's long past the point of caring when his friends are around seeing you squish his cheeks together, kissing the pout that forms on his lips with an extra loud "muah!" that can be heard in the few seconds between songs. he's actually the one pulling you into the small crowd of people dancing in the living room, swaying together to the music.

to seunghyun, he might have looked awkward dancing—but to anyone else who caught a glimpse either from squeezing their way through the crowd to get to the other side of the room, or if they just looked up: you and seunghyun looked smooth; complementary; on the same wavelength. it was one of those moments they would recall to your mini-me twenty years down the line, opening the anecdote with "i remember when your parents . . ." he brought his forehead to yours—earning him the flustered laugh he could get drunk on—bringing his lips to yours when you pulled him in by the rims of his beanie. you turned around afterward, pressing your ass against him, starting to dance again. seunghyun got the message. he followed your movements, arm wrapping around the front of your waist, leaning down to kiss your cheek upon feeling your hand reach back for his hair.

seunghyun played a large hand in improving your confidence, especially when it came to intimacy of any kind. you've come a long way from your posture stiffening when he put his arm around you in the movie theater; your ghost of a returned grip when he held your hand; or backing out mid-makeout on his couch because your face felt so hot, the movie paused and long-forgotten about, the dvd logo bouncing from one side of the tv to the other ("i-i'm sorry—" "—it's okay. come back here, you were doing so good.") it wasn't as if you were a brand new person, but he nurtured a different side of you to come out; honored he was the one deemed worthy enough to witness it. he fucking loved it when you were stood in your own corner at a party, feeling dizzy whenever yours hands traveled underneath the hem of his shirt and around his waist . . . holy fuck . . . and the way you kissed him afterward, so soft and slow, deliberate . . . you might as well make him a father right there.

the tension brewed over time. you may be learning things as you go, but you would be remised to not pick up on seunghyun's not-so-subtle ways. every time he readjusted his position in your bed, arms holding you, you felt his hand traveled just a little lower down your hip. his lips kissed your cheek before returning his attention to space documentary he picked up from blockbuster before sneaking over, reading the captions on the portable dvd player propped up atop the duvet. he thought he was being slick. but when the documentary inevitably ended, and you inevitably pulled him into your lips to make him stay longer, his hand slipped underneath, squeezing your right globe. he'll never forget your sharp inhale, or how hard you kissed him in return.

or when you were stood in line at the mall food court (yes, you read that correctly), his fingers holding yours. he was being so sweet and flirtatious, looking at you with an admiring grin whilst you read the menu. he went back and forth between laying his hoodie-clad head atop yours, kissing your cheek, or leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you saw in your periphery how he would stare and stare both longingly and knowingly. you didn't give in, until you couldn't hold it in anymore, failing horrendously at hiding your upside-down grin. "what?" you nudged his bicep with your shoulder, hearing him chuckle. "i'm just looking." he responded, voice smooth. you tsked, shaking your head. "you don't make any sense." his kiss to your temple brought your gaze back to him, looking up when he rested his forehead against yours. "that's because you take all of it from me." seunghyun lined the side of his nose with yours, bringing his lips to yours. he's done this countless times before, but it was how his lips lingered for a second or two that made all the difference . . . how they parted so slowly and deliberately . . . it made you think oh . . . this man may very well want me to have his baby! it wouldn't be far-fetched either, since on your four month anniversary, he told you he was ready to introduce you to his parents after your third date.

then came those saturday mornings . . . or mornings where neither of you had class until the afternoon . . . when you got up from bed, and he sees your shorts have ridden completely up your thighs in your sleep . . . how fucking delectable they look. your back is turned to him as you stretch your arms out and yawn, but seunghyun's stare is unabashed and hard. it starts as a sideways glance, like he doesn't want to get caught. but then he sees how they jiggle with every minute movement . . . he's enamored. he turns onto his side fully, studying how your cellulite adorns your skin so specifically . . . then his palms start to tingle, wanting to reach out and feel you in his hands. but all he does is cast his hand against your crisp bed sheets, wrinkled where you laid just moments ago. seunghyun then notices the slight sheen of your skin when you step into the sunlight pouring in from the window; the remnants of your moisturizer you apply before you sleep, he was sure. this is what makes his teeth rake against his bottom lip, quickly glancing up to see if you were still turned around, which you were. then came those imperfections he wanted so badly to kiss, to linger his tongue over: the small, translucent forever-bruise on the side of your left thigh that never healed; standing in a crowded train after spending the day with each other in the city, temporarily squished against the arm rest of a seat to make room for incoming passengers. your fucking tan line from your go-to denim shorts you wore during the summer jesus christ . . . and how some of your stomach spilled over your shorts, the thick curvature of your body akin to a fucking goddess's. what he would do to be trapped between them . . .

"i'll be right back." your voice took him out of his trance, seunghyun looking up to see you opening the bedroom door, walking to the bathroom down the hall. "okay, baby." his voice was gravely, clearing his throat afterward. seunghyun turned onto his back. he lifted the duvet, peeking underneath to see the bulge in his sweats. he let out a disbelieving huff, running his hands over his face. it's not even ten am yet. he thought to himself. it should be no surprise that when you came back into bed, his lips made residence on yours, hand slipping by your hip and grabbing your ass. seunghyun stopped periodically to place kisses on your chest, or moving the strap of your cami to trace the tip of his tongue along your stretch marks lining your shoulder before kissing them, too. "wanna try something new, baby." he murmured against your skin. "okay," you said, fingers brushing his hair back, watching as his lips returned to your chest. "what is it, seunghyun?" "wanna put these in my mouth—'nd taste you."

you nodded, hair rubbing against your pillowcase. "o-okay," your voice fell to a whisper, the birds chirping outside rivaling your volume. "go ahead, seunghyun." he lifted his head, kissing you. "tell me if it's too much, okay?" "i will." you said, kissing him. a shallow breath left your chest as his lips traveled down your chest. he's fondled your breasts before—in the backseat of his car, and when the portable dvd player is mere background noise, but nothing could have prepared him for now your left breast recoiled when he tugged that side of your cami down. it was so perky, so cute; happy to see him. he captured your areola in his mouth, running his warm tongue over it slowly. he's never heard you gasp like that before. "s—seunghyun!" you barely breathed, shuddering oxygen in and out. he quickly detached—"is it too much—" "—no, no! keep—keep going!" you whimpered, pushing the back of his head back down. he sucked with bliss, readjusting himself when you arched your back, his other hand kneading your right breast. he tugged that side of your cami down, showing that nipple less mercy than the other. "f-fuck!" you gasped, hand coming up to your mouth. "yes, yes! oh my god, seunghyun!" your body squirmed, thighs enclosing around his waist. he needed to move on. if he didn't, he was going to ruin his sweatpants.

he popped off of your hardened nipple gently, bringing his lips to yours. you latched onto him with needy fervor, kissing him quickly. "i'm gonna eat your pussy, okay baby?" he spoke against your lips. you whimpered into his mouth, eyebrows turning upward in desperation, hands holding onto the back of his shoulders. "gonna take care of you. tell me if you want to stop." "o—ngh!—okay." seunghyun pushed the duvet off the both of you, making his way down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. he stood on his knees as he pulled your shorts and underwear off, discarding them on his usual side of the bed. his hand slid down your left thigh, fingers running over that small bruise. he leaned down, pressing a kiss. he moved a couple of inches down the bed, settling his knees onto the carpeted floor, propping the upper-half of his body up with his elbows. you separated your legs. his tongue ran over his bottom lip, mouth watering.

he kissed the inner parts of your thighs, trailing where you needed him most. seunghyun wasted no time after that, plunging his tongue between your puffy folds. oh . . . you tasted good. the sensation was indescribable for you—a curt gasp all you could muster those first few seconds, palm covering your mouth as you devoured the unbelievable sight below you. your eyebrows were so deeply furrowed; a choked moan leaving your diaphragm as his tongue explored your divine essence. seunghyun separated your lips with his pointer and middle finger, trying to find that sweet bundle of nerves. he placed his tongue higher than before, taking note of your gasp. he pushed his head in deeper, knowing he was coming closer when your thighs brushed against his ears. seunghyun hit the jackpot when he pushed in a little deeper, arms quickly wrapping around your waist to keep you as still as he could when your body jolted, thighs closing in on him, effectively putting him in a still-moveable headlock. "o—oh m-my god—ngh! hngh!" you moaned helplessly. "s-seunghyun!" you cried, fingers disappearing into his hair, tugging. "feel good, baby? that feel good?" he asked quickly, voice muffled, not liking going mere seconds without you on his tongue. "y-yes! keep—keep—"

you couldn't finish your sentence, but he needed no further instruction. he nursed your clit unabashedly, his hand reaching up and kneading your right breast. "s-seunghyun, i'm gonna—i feel—" your breathing was heavy, eyes squeezed shut. "cum in my mouth." was all seunghyun said. your legs opened abruptly, back arching higher than before as your orgasm washed over your entire body. seunghyun kept working your clit, popping off of your sweet pussy through your delicate moans and mewls. he swallowed whatever you gave him, humming into you in satisfaction, relishing in how you breathily whined his name. he gradually latched off with tongue-led kisses, palming himself through his sweatpants. he left your pussy swiftly when he felt a wet patch, looking down to see that he, indeed, ruined his sweatpants.

then came a week later, when you made love for the first time at eleven am on a fucking tuesday morning. "breath for me." he told you gently, positioning his condom wrapped tip between your soft, puffy lips. "in," he inhaled through his nostrils, you mimicking. "and out." you exhaled together. he kissed your divine lips, hand coming up and holding your cheek. "my beautiful girl," he whispered. "i love you so much." "i love you too." your hands held the back of his neck, kissing him back. "this might hurt a little. we have all the time in the world. we'll take it easy." his lips pressed against your cheek, hearing your gentle "okay." he slowly pushed himself in, stopping halfway when you held tightly onto his shoulders. "f-fuck, ngh! it . . . it hurts." you whispered. "i know, i know baby." he low voice cooed, his hand holding your cheek, bringing the one closest to him to his lips. "keep going. slowly." "i will."

he thrusted slowly with half of his cock inside of you, listening to your every breath. "any better?" he whispered. he sucked in a tight breath, feeling how tight you are. "a . . . a little. try adding more each time." "anything for you." he kissed your temple, following your words. silence filled the room, nothing but the slight creak of your bed frame, shaky breaths, and rustling of the duvet against the linen. seunghyun's ears perked up when he heard a quiet moan, feeling your nails starting to dig into his bare shoulder. "s-seunghyun . . . m-more." "which one? faster or deeper, baby?" "deeper." you said, voice breathy. your eyebrows twitched as you were mostly adjusted, bottom lip captured between your teeth as he stretched you out. "mmf!" you yelped. "does—f-fuck—that feel g-good?" seunghyun was losing himself in you, struggling to keep his mind clear. "y-yes!" you moaned. "g-go faster, seunghyunie. p-please." "god fucking damn—f-fuck, baby!" he mewled, moaning into your ear. "you feel so fucking g-good, oh my god!" the rest of that morning was a haze of grunts, sweat, and chanting each other's names like prayers. to think you were in your intro to international democracies lecture not even four hours later was obscene.

neither of you trusted yourselves to keep quiet when he came over, but that doesn't mean you at least tried . . . albeit, over the phone. "you drive me fucking crazy, baby—fuck!" his phone fell from his ear, his free hand quickly grabbing it, his other showing little mercy to himself. you could hear the wet, slick sounds of his cock from your side of the line, your thighs trapping your wrist between your legs. "the—the way you—hngh!—l-looked at me from over your shoulder, the way you sounded when i fucked you from b-behind." he spoke into the phone lowly. "you looked so beautiful, and felt so f-fucking good. did it feel good baby, hm? did it feel good when i pounded that sweet pussy?" "s-seunghyun—" you sounded so delicate, so fragile. "i—ngh!—i n-need you so bad. i can't take it anymore." he heard your shaky gasp, sure you were close. "tell me, baby. i know you're close, i can hear it." he moaned hearing you whimper at his words, feeling the knot in his abdomen begin to unravel. "t-tell me—s-shit!—i-i'm, i'm close t-too. tell me, baby. you know you can tell your seunghyunie anything, right?"

when that wasn't enough (it never was), you took it to the backseat of his car. it was an unspoken rule; nonverbal pattern of events when he was to drop you home, but that something was in the air and could not go unaddressed—like the night of your friend's birthday party. he unlocked his trunk, folding the backseats forward to allow enough room for you to lay on your back. in your defense, you tried to keep quiet. you really did . . . considering it was well past one in the morning, your house was one measly block away, and your neighborhood was very much a quiet suburb. but the car was shaking, your toes pressed against the rear windshield, and his hand was slipping off the steaming window. if anyone walked by—universe help your neighbor that worked late shifts and walked his dog at this hour—a vague, passive aggressive memo in the neighborhood newsletter would certainly find you.

the torn condom wrapper fell between the seats, lost in a reach-less nook of the car as seunghyun fucked you deep and good. the sound was wet and mind-numbing, the heel of your left foot resting on his lower back whilst he pummeled you. "f-fuck! just like that, just like that!" you gasped, your moan sounding intoxicatingly needy, fingers rummaging aimlessly through his hair. seunghyun was a sweaty mess, his hair sticking to his forehead as he boiled in his long sleeve. but he could not have given less of a fuck. you felt fucking divine. he needed this, every last second, every last drop. your gummy walls and puffy lips were a blessing he would thank whatever higher force that existed out there for the rest of his life. "just like that? yeah?" he grunted, looking down at the scene, watching his cock disappear and reappear. "s-such f-fucking good pussy—fuck!"

there's a digital camera you both share (he bought it for you for your one year anniversary), housing the archive of your relationship. there's tons of photos on numerous sd cards: a photo of you two kissing in front of a mirror, the camera covering your mouths even after seunghyun's hilariously laborious attempts at angling it correctly, photos of you looking so effortlessly beautiful in your bed; elbow propped on your pillow, palm holding your cheek, the glow of the portable dvd player evident on your face, or one you took of him in his bed after you imitated his low laugh which made him laugh even harder, photos of seunghyun climbing through your window with a shy, unexpected smile on your face or looking cool driving his car, lots of photos with friends, and at parties; one in particular of him pretending to eat your cheek and your wide smile, drink in hand. he can hear your laughter whenever he looks at it.

several months after your two year anniversary, seunghyun found himself at the mall. he was free for the rest of the day whilst you were in for another two lectures. but, of course, he was picking you up for dinner that evening. he perused for your graduation gift; settling for a perfume, a book by your favorite author, and two cds of musicians you loved. like clockwork, his eyes found and stayed on kay jewelers. but unlike before, he walked in. he found the engagement rings with ease, even going as far as to tell the consultant that he was thinking about getting married. however, seunghyun didn't walk out with a ring. he figured well, we should graduate first . . . get jobs . . . move in together . . . and then talk about marriage. he's been locked in since your first kiss, but that's besides the point. but there's no harm in starting to save up for that ring, is there . . .

honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf, @infinetlyforgotten

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ hockey song (cover) - Offside AU ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x popstar!reader summary: Y/N is in Toronto to meet her best friend's new boyfriend and they go to one of his games. Little does she know a certain goalie is captivated by her. lyrics: Oh! The good ol' Hockey game / Is the best game you can name / And the best game you can name / Is the good ol' Hockey game word count: 1.4k warning(s): pure fluff, not proof read notes: yayyyyyy first chapter of Offside !! so excited to finally share this with you all. i hope you enjoy !! xoxo fun fact: ik this song by heart. offside masterpost - next chapter

You hear a high pitched squeal come from behind you and immediately know exactly who is standing there. Iris Bennett, your best friend since... well, forever. You turn around and open your arms to invite her in for a hug. It has been 7 horrible months without your best friend, but now you are here, in Toronto, to play a show and (more importantly) meet Iris' new boyfriend.

When Iris told you she met someone you never thought it would be a hockey star. "His name is William Nylander. Look him up, Y/N" and you did. Tall, handsome, blonde. You understood why she liked him. But you wanted to meet him. It just so happened that you had booked Scotia Bank Arena the day after the Leafs were scheduled to play there, so Iris Invited you to the game as her plus one.

She ran into you at full force, "I missed you!!". She was a little taller than you with shorter blonde hair and the kindest eyes you could ever imagine. You lose your balance for a second but she stabilizes you.

"I missed you too, Iris," she pulls away, "How have things been?". All she does is smile and cover her mouth, as if she's trying to hide her excitement, "Amazing! Y/N, you have to meet Willy. He's amazing and so sweet and so funny and just the perfect guy". You smile at her excitement. She hasn't spoken this way about a man in a very long time.

"I'm happy for you, babe," you look around and notice how people are starting to recognize who you are, "Time to go to the hotel?"

"Yeah".

The drive to the hotel is filled with giggles and gossip as you tell Iris about your breakup with Milo and her first few months of dating William, who she lovingly refers to as Willy.

The Leafs management had been very kind in arranging your accommodations for staying in Toronto, in exchange for an appearance at a game. Your publicist, Janine, agreed but only if you could steal a player the next night for your show. So... everyone was happy.

You were staying in the Royal York, a gorgeous old hotel right across from the arena where you would be attending the game and playing your show. The staff seemed nice and they were able to bring all your luggage to your room no problem. When you got to the hotel room, there was a box on the bed with a card beside it. You drop your purse and open the card.

ANGL, We are so pleased you will be joining us for our game against the Anaheim Ducks tonight. As a token of our appreciation for your work and talent, we hope you will wear this bedazzled and signed Joseph Woll jersey. We are excited to see you at the game. ~ Leafs Management

You smile and open the box. Just like the card said, there is a bedazzled blue Leafs home jersey. Of course you decide to wear it. How could you say no?

The gossip between you and Iris continues as you get ready for the game together. Normally WAGs don't wear their man's jersey or sit in the front row, but Iris wasn't going to make you do all the fan stuff on your own. She put on her jersey, reading Nylander 88 on the back, and a pair of crisp blue jeans to match.

"He did what?" Iris' jaw drops as you nod, finishing your makeup. "Seriously, I can't believe you didn't leave him sooner... What an asshole. Telling you to lose weight because it would be bad for him to have a fat girlfriend? He's just self conscious he couldn't lift you up at Disney". You let out a giggle at that comment. You see Iris check her watch in the mirror and she says, "Shit, girl, you need to change. We're gonna be late and I told Willy I'd get you there for warm ups".

"Perfect timing, because makeup is done," you swipe the last bit of lipgloss on your lips and put the tube in your purse. Iris hands you the jersey. It fits well. Kinda oversized, which you like. You fix your hair and sigh. You didn't even look up who this Woll guy is. What if he's some controversial guy who has a criminal record and is barely being kept out of jail? What if he beats his girlfriend?

"Come on, Y/N, we need to go!" Iris yells from the other room. You slip on your black leather platform boots and grab your purse, following Iris out the door.

Scotia Bank Arena is already bouncing with excitement when you arrive. The Leafs are all on the ice and skating around, warming up. You take your seat and number 88 immediately comes up to the boards, waving at Iris. She waves back and then points to you. You wave and smile. That must be William. He waves and mouths "nice to meet you" before blowing a kiss at Iris and skating away.

Thirty seconds later, another guy, number 23, comes up to the board. He waves at Iris and shoots you a wink before continuing on his way. You laugh at the gesture and ask Iris, "Who was that?". "Matthew Knies. Young guy, very nice. I can introduce you if you want..." Iris shrugs against you and wiggles her eyebrows. "Stop that," you playfully hit her thigh. Then, you hear a horn. The game is starting.

The game is exciting. Leafs score. Leafs powerplay. Offside. Ducks score. Leafs score. Leafs score. Ducks penalty. Icing. Fight. Leafs score. Two minutes to the end of the 3rd and its 4-1 Leafs. The arena is buzzing. Your leg is bouncing and you are holding Iris' hand for dear life.

The whistle blows and the man over the speakers shouts, "We forgot to mention a little surprise for all you music lovers in the crowd tonight. Please give a warm Toronto Maple Leafs welcome to popstar, ANGL!". The crowd roars as the camera pans to you and Iris. You wave and blow kisses up to it, smiling sweetly.

The Leafs goalie turns to look at you while tapping his stick on the ice as if to clap before getting into position for the face off. This is exciting. Ducks empty net. Pumped up crowd and thirty second left in the game. The ref drops the puck and the Ducks captain wins the faceoff, shooting it at the goal. The goalie males the save and there is a path. He gives it a good hit and it travels down the ice, into the Ducks net. The whistle blows signalling the game is over and the announcer says, "Leafs win 5-1 annnndddddd Joseph Woll with his first goal of the season, unassisted!". The arena erupts in cheers and you even hear people chanting "And after allllllll, you're my Joseph Wolllllllll" (like Wonderwall by Oasis).

The rest of the Leafs line up to give the goalie, or Woll, a hug before they all file off the ice. You get up to leave but Iris tells you, "No, wait, we have to see who are the three stars of the game," so you sit back down. The announcer begins, "And now, your stars of the game! Third star of the game, from your Toronto Maple Leafs, number 88, William Nylander," the crowd cheers and Iris jumps up and down, screaming. William skates onto the ice and gives his stick to a young boy in the front row across the ice from the bench.

"Second star of the game, from the Anaheim Ducks, number 11, Trevor Zegras". There is very little applause from the audience and Zegras doesn’t even come on the ice. "Finally, the first star of the game, from you Toronto Maple Leafs, number 60 Joseph Woll." The crowd cheers again and Woll skates onto the ice. He turns towards you and smiles, tossing his stick over the glass to give you. He mouths "nice jersey" and skates away.

You can feel your cheeks heat up and you look at Iris, whose mouth is hanging open. "What?" you ask her. "Nothing, nothing. Just seems like a song worthy moment, you know?". You laugh. Maybe it is. All you know is you'll be going to a lot more hockey games from now on.

*ur.angel has added a post*

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [7]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

IM BACK

laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww

also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me

lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

______

Jung Hoseok is not scared.

Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.

Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!

The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!

“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”

“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”

It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there. 

Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree. 

From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.

Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..

For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.

Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.

But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.

Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in. 

Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did. 

“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”

“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.

Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.

For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.

Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.

Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?

“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”

“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”

It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day. 

From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet. 

Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.

Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.

It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line. 

Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.

At least until he got sick.

Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.

Which is not.

He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all. 

In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”

Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly. 

Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.

Oh how beautiful you were that morning.

He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you. 

You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

You were especially cute in their clothes though.

In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.

Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.

Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche. 

Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.

“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”

It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow. 

He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.

Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.

He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.

“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”

“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love. 

He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.

In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt. 

How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.

What is he going to do then? Die from envy?

He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.

A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.

           [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing            [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me            [18:23] Me: im just worried            [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family            [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i?            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen            [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you            [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say             [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know            [18:23] Me: i will 

Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.

“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.

“What if I don’t have any?”

“Then you’re sleeping in those.”

Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.

He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.

Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.

______

Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate. 

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.

What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.

Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.

The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze. 

 Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.

It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up. 

But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.

With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips. 

Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.

In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.

Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.

He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.

For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.

It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.

He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes. 

Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive. 

But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room. 

This soulmate thing is weird.

When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.

“Good morning, noona.”

“Tae? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”

“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!” 

“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”

You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.

“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”

It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.

They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table. 

Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.

“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.

“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.

Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.

“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.” 

He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.

Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.

When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing. 

For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence 

“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.

“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.

Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.

“Can I come with you?”

“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”

“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?” 

“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.

“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.

“I’ll even do the talking.”

Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.

“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”

“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..

“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.

But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3

Shit.

Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind. 

_____

“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”

That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.

Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.

Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.

Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.

“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”

“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.

“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”

“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”

“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”

“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”

“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”

“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”

You shake your head. 

While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started. 

Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.

“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”

“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”

Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast. 

“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”

“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.

“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”

“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”

“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”

“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.

“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”

A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now. 

The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.

If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.

“She won’t be pinching my ears?”

“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”

__________

[Today, 12:42]            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan?            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER?????            [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊            [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered            [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?!            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae?            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵            [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage            [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/             [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW??????             [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: MINHYUK PLEASE            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF            [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too            [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding?            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days            [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day…            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut?            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02]            [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how?            [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee

________

There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.

Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.

What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.

He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.

The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.

Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.

“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”

Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.

While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.

If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.

You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.

The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.

As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.

‘Head hurts’

‘No more’

The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.

‘Sorry’

‘Forgive?’

“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”

“Deal.”

Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”

“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”

You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.

“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.” 

In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.

Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.

“Why are you hurting me like this?”

“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”

“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”

________

When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him. 

Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.

Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.

Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.

Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.

It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.

Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.

Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.

(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)

You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.

Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.

The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.

“You okay?”

You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.

“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.

Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap. 

Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.

Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.

Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.

“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”

“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.

“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”

“You go open it then—”

His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.

Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.

Why are you even nervous? 

Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?

Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.

Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made

“Hoba? What’s wrong?”

“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”

“What did it say?”

Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.

“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”

You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.

“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”

Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.

“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”

“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”

Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”

Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.

With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.

“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”

“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”

“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.

“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”

“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.

“You don’t know that.”

With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.

Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.

The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.

When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.

Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them? 

You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.

How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?

When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.

“Are you with me now, noona?”

“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.

“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”

Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.

Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain. 

Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?

But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?

“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”

You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”

“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”

The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.

“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.” 

Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.

“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.

You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.

“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”

“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”

He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”

There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.

‘Why crying?’

‘What happened?’

“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”

Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.

Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.

Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.

For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.

_________

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

[lostsyren]

I have a request where rafe gets into a fight because someone said something about sofia, and later in the bathroom sofia is cleaning the cuts on his hands. (Btw I LOVE ur writing 💗💗)

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 watcher

{summary: after hooking up a couple times, rafe and sofia are no contact, but neither one is happy with the arrangement…}

{a/n: ok so i decided to do something a little different– it still fits what you wanted but i kinda went a different direction. essentially it’s them after 3x09! and thank you for ur kind words lovely, sorry this took so long}

{warnings: graphic violence, mentions of sex, stalking?}

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

After staying over at Tannyhill a couple times, Sofia and Rafe didn’t talk again. She tried to shy away from the pang of hurt that it caused– when he left her on read, when he waited until she was on the other side of the bar to order his drink, when he stopped looking her way with a smile and kind eyes. What made it worse was the fact she had to see him…everyday single day.

Sofia mentally made a note never to sleep with a customer ever again. The prickling shame that coated her skin, the sticky regret that settled in the lot of her stomach– it was all too much. The prospect that Rafe used her, as simply just a warm body he could fuck, a temporary distraction– it made her sick. She knew it was silly of her; they barely knew each other after all. But he was so surprisingly sweet to her. And now it’s like he’d flipped a switch, doused in a sudden and biting apathy.

It shouldn’t have been a shock to her– she knew that, she wasn’t dumb. He was a kook at the end of the day and she was the club bartender (no matter how much she hated that fact, it still remained true). But she liked him. God– she liked him a lot. She thought he was different.

Sofia shook her head vehemently. Stop thinking about him when he doesn’t even give you the time of day.

The Kildare night was dark and balmy, the late-summer humidity stifling. The moon was out tonight, shining like a pearlescent marble on a bed of black tar.

Sofia’s shift had ended, so she was packing up her things. A couple stragglers were left dotted around the outdoor bar and restaurant. One of them was Rafe. He always lingered at the bar, nursing a fleet of never ending drinks. Initially Sofia was worried. She’d seen this before in her father, a drink always in hand, his eyes slung low in a drunker stupor. But eventually she reflected the same frigid apathy back on to Rafe. He wasn’t her problem to worry about.

But it was hard to deny instinct. Sofia had been infatuated with Rafe for a while now, even before he’d noticed her presence. It was like her eyes were magnets and he was metal. So before she left, her gaze brushed over his figure, taking in the broad shoulders, the faint lines of veins skeining down his tanned arms, before trailing up to his face. And that’s when she realised he was already staring straight at her. Fuck.

He looked distraught, but like he was trying to hide it. The lines of his face were deep and the strain of his jaw was tight, blue eyes red rimmed. She quickly looked away, gripping the strap of her purse tighter and scampering out towards the exit.

Sofia got on the bus. Her car was in the repair shop (for the third time this year). So she had to walk half-way home since the bus routes in the cut were all situated a good distance from her house. Her work shoes clicked against the uneven asphalt, her pace brisk and nimble. She didn’t think anything of the footsteps behind her at first, but when she realised how close they were, as if shadowing her movements, Sofia’s heart sank.

She’d heard stories of muggings around and about these streets. So her footsteps quickened, her heart rate a sputtering mess.

Fragments of prayers escaped her lips. Prayers for protection, for refuge and everything in between. But the shadow that stretched like pitch across the pavement just seemed to elongate the closer it got to her.

Sofia swallowed a shuddering breath and chanced a look behind her. She hated that she was right– a group of maybe three or four men were tailing her.

She wanted to run but they were tall– they’d easily outperform her. Sofia reached into her purse slipping out her phone, the white glare form the screen opening on to her contacts. But before she could even call anyone, the looming presence behind her suddenly jolted forward, Sofia jerking up in surprise.

A hand yanked her phone away from her, the device smashing on the concrete. Sofia gasped, the sound shaky and convulsing as she felt two hands grip her wrists.

“Who you tryna call huh?” One guy goaded, as the other three encircled Sofia.

Shit. Shit. Shit. The panic that fringed her nervous system completely inundated her– blood rushing, heart pounding, skin sweating.

“Please, just take whatever you want and let me go,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and watering.

The man let go of one of her wrists, gripping the pliable flesh of her cheeks, squishing them together with sharp nails.

“How about we just take you then?” His words were low and pointed, like a knife being pressed against her jugular. Chitters of laughter emanated from the other guys walling her in. Fear gave way to anger as Sofia spat at him then used her leg to swing a knee in his groin. He grunted in pain, allowing for Sofia to slip from his grip.

“You fucking bitch!” He growled, yanking her back by the hair before she could sprint away. Sofia hissed in pain, her scalp burning from his relentless grip.

She thought she was done for, denigrated to putty in these men’s hands. But suddenly, out of the encroaching darkness of the streetlight, came a figure who threw a punch directly square in her assailant’s face.

Sofia flew back on to the pavement, scraping her knee on the concrete. Grabbing her phone, she scrambled backwards to witness the scene before her. Her vision was slightly blurred so it took her a second to piece together what was happening.

In amidst the guttural yells and sickening sound of fists hitting flesh, Sofia saw Rafe mercilessly grapple with her attackers.

Her brain was so frazzled she didn’t even consider the oddity of his presence in this situation– all she felt was a sudden rush of relief and an overwhelming gratefulness that she didn’t have to find out what these men were planning to do with her.

But worry quickly eclipsed her repose.

They were decimating him.

“Help!” Sofia yelled, her voice cracking and shrill.

One of the men had Rafe in a headlock, his beefy arm clasped around his windpipe. Sofia scrambled on to her feet and grabbed her keys from her purse. With a quiet stealth, she snuck up behind the towering guy before lodging the key in between his shoulder blades. The man shrieked out a string of curse words, dropping Rafe and swinging round to strike her instead. Sofia cowered from his touch, but Rafe didn’t let the guy’s wrath reach her.

“You fucking touch her again and I’ll kill you,” he growled, Sofia’s heart lurching at the sight of his black beady eyes and bloody lip. He looked feral.

Rafe’s swinging punches began to look rhythmic as he hit his knuckles repeatedly against the guys jaw. Sofia’s stomach roiled in sickness at hearing the crunch of bone. The repetitive thwack of skin hitting skin.

Before Rafe could knock the guy in unconscious, the wail of police cars sliced through the violence, distant glows of red and blue dancing around the darkness.

“Fuck let’s bounce,” said one hooded man before all four of them dispersed, leaving Rafe breathless and bloody, barely able to stand.

Sofia rushed towards him, quickly hoisting his swaying body on top of hers.

“Come on, my house is a couple minutes away.”

Rafe didn’t say anything. He just nodded, letting Sofia lead the way.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

Rafe sat on the toilet of Sofia’s bathroom, waiting as she rifled through the cabinet for some cotton wool.

Neither said anything, the tension in the small space feeling like thick fog that clogged their throats.

“You’re different…I like that. You’ll do the right thing– I’m sure you will.”

Those were the last words Sofia had said to him– the last time they’d spoken. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to talk with her. He did. Desperately. But for once Rafe Cameron decided to do the decent thing, the right thing, as Sofia put it, and leave her out of his bloodsoaked life. Because that’s what happened whenever he cared about someone. They got hurt. Like his father leaving on a plane all bloody and maimed, cut by the blade of his son’s betrayal. The reminder of Ward sent a ripple of regret through him.

It has been hard to leave Sofia behind fully. She was addictive. Sweet like candy and soft like silk. He missed the air of her laughter– that easy, wispy sound which draped over him. He missed the warmth of her body– her small frame slotting against his larger one in the massive bed. Though she’d been in his life for an embarrassingly short amount of time, her absence left a hefty lacuna in the sepulchral hallways of Tannyhill. She became just another person who was no longer there.

And Rafe hated it.

So he resigned himself to stolen glances whilst she was working, watching as she danced freely at parties that she didn’t know he was attending, also following her home from work to make sure she got home ok.

And it’s a good thing he did– when he saw those men grope and paw at her, sullying her with their filthy hands, rage burst through his capillaries.

He could see the result of his violent outburst now in the dull yellow glow of the bathroom lights, his knuckles split and hemic, rivulets of blood flowing through the grooves of his skin.

Sofia ran the cotton wool under the hot water of the tap, gently lifting his hands up so she could clean the blood.

Her eyes fixated on the task at hand, as Rafe revelled in the gentleness of her touch. He usually had to patch himself up after fights, struggling alone behind a closed bathroom door, whimpering as he licked his cuts clean like a bad dog.

As she worked to clean him him, Rafe’s eyes dipped downward and saw the graze on her knee, a sizeable red scrape against her golden skin.

With his free hand, his fingers instinctively brushed against it, causing Sofia to jump up in surprise.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, retracting his hand away. Sofia just shook her head gently as if to say ‘it’s ok’.

She was close enough so that he could smell her strawberry shampoo– remembering the sensations of her tresses tickling his chest as his face nuzzled up against the crook of her neck. He honed in on the way her fingers skimmed his hands with the cotton wool– mirroring the touch of her fingertips gripping on to his shoulders as he pressed into her warmth. Rafe stirred with a heady desire from this inundation of memories that made him lightheaded, suddenly standing up in the tiny bathroom.

“Is everything ok?” Sofia asked, looking up at him with a furrowed brow.

He nodded quickly.

“Let me clean you up too.” His hands floated over the curve of her hip, directing her to the bathroom counter, lifting her slightly to place her on the flat surface. Sofia let out a little gasp as he suspended her in the air, her eye contact unwavering.

The image of fucking her in her own bathroom passed through his mind, her soft body pressed up against the basin, the mirror fogged up from their combined breaths. Rafe shook away his thoughts but it was hard to do when she was so damn close. Rafe wetted some cotton wool, hooking his hand under the meat of her thigh, before cleaning the cut gently. He tried to control the tremors of his fingers, but it was near impossible.

Sofia’s soft breath fanned his nape, hitting his sensitive skin as he looked down at her leg. He shuddered slightly imagining her lips hitting that spot, her tongue supping away at his neck. The memory of her kisses hit him like a truck, the skilled manoeuvring of her mouth, leaving him trailing after her with inexperience.

Fuck he missed her.

Rafe plastered her knee up, rubbing his thumb up and down the plush of her thigh, before regrettably letting go.

Sofia starred up at him with her big, hazel eyes– they were almost imploring. But imploring him for what he didn’t know.

Their faces were inches a part. Rafe could see her scattering of freckles, each individual eyelash.

As if by instinct, his face hovered closer, the slope of his nose brushing against her cheek. Sofia’s breath hitched, the swell of her breast rising and falling with each uneven pant. Her lips opened, pink and wet and shiny. They looked so inviting. He could slip his tongue so easily between her mouth right now. She was right there.

Rafe could see her hands gripping the counter edge, her knuckles contrastingly white to his reddened ones.

“I should go,” Rafe murmured, eyes flickering over her face. Sofia did the same, her gaze alternating between his lips and eyes.

Sofia’s hands reached over to hold his, wrapping her fingers around his raw skin, “thank you Rafe.”

“No problem.” His voice was a raspy husk.

Rafe moved away from her and his heart clenched at the sudden distance. He left her sitting alone on her bathroom counter, her hair tousled around her pretty face and legs pressed deliciously together.

But despite how badly he wanted to destroy the space between them, pressing her up against the tiles, hooking her leg around the curve of his waist, Rafe still turned and faced the door.

“Wait.” Her voice was small and soft and hopeful.

He stood still, turning to face her slowly.

She jumped down from the countertop. “Why don’t you stay the night?”

Rafe’s heart faltered. Say yes, you idiot.

But he couldn’t do this. The past couple weeks watching Sofia, inhaling her like she was his new drug, he learnt just how different the two of them were. She criss-crossed around Kildare like a saint– dropping her siblings off to school in that scrap metal car of hers, volunteering at her local church, slaving away at her job and plastering a smile on for asshole customers. Even at the parties, she never was selfish or hedonistic. She minded her friends with care, she oftentimes was the designated driver and she smiled at everyone no matter kook or pogue.

Sofia was kind. Sofia was good.

Who was he to use her for his own personal gain? Even now, when he was lauding her saintliness, he couldn’t help but envision her at his mercy, inside of her, her name on his lips, his hands in her hair.

“It’s ok Sofia, I need to be heading home anyway.” He mumbled stupidly, palming the back of his neck.

Her face flashed with hurt– eyebrows stitching together, lips frowning in a pout. But she quickly recomposed herself.

“Ok.”

Rafe turned to leave, opening the bathroom door.

“What were you even doing here in The Cut?” Sofia suddenly asked.

Rafe froze. Fuck. He turned to face her slowly.

“Meeting a friend.”

“Oh,” Sofia intoned, “a friend? I thought you wouldn’t have any pogue friends.”

Rafe smiled, amused at her pointedness. “Then what are you then?”

“I don’t know…what am I?” Her tone took on a meanness that was uncharacteristic.

Rafe swallowed thickly, embarrassment tinging his cheeks, “Sofia–“

“You ghost all your friends? Or just all your fuck buddies?”

“Sof–“

“A text would’ve been nice. You don’t have to pretend like I don’t exist.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could come up with. One measly apology.

Sofia sighed, running a hand through her hair, “I’m sorry too– you don’t owe me anything. I– I just thought that you…I just thought that we…” she trailed off, a meekness settling over her body.

“You just thought that we– what?” Rafe probed, stepping closer. He wanted her to say more. Wanted her to give him a reason to stay.

“Nothing, nothing. You can go, it’s fine.”

“Sofia–“

“Please leave Rafe.”

His shoulders sagged with that all too familiar weight. And with a brief nod of the head, he left her there, finding his way back to his car parked a couple blocks down, the one he used to follow her down the street in, watching her with an obsessiveness he didn’t know what to do with, monomania seeping uncontrollably from his pores.

Rafe was about to drive the car back home, when he circled back, parking outside the house he was just in. Turning the engine off, the headlights flashed away into nothingness, leaving the car undetected from the street.

His eyes crawled up to Sofia’s bedroom window. She never closed the blinds. She was so naïve. So trusting. He was doing the right thing leaving her out of his instability, his fractured, messed up self. He’d hurt her like everyone else. And he didn’t want that.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t watch.

Watch her slip out of her work clothes, imagining it was her was undressing her. Watch her examine the band-aid he put on her knee, recalling how her supple legs felt under his fingertips.

Watch her unhook her bra, slipping into her pyjamas then into bed, savouring the memory of how it felt to fuck her.

Rafe drove away quickly, shunning away the perverted thoughts that whirled around his mind.

He wondered if Sofia still thought that about him. She said he’d do the right thing– but Rafe didn’t know what the fuck that meant. He told himself he’d stop it. Cut all contact from her. Even the obsessive surveillance.

But the next morning, he made sure to arrive early at the country club, so he could watch her at the bar, like always.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𖦹 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[nameless-jamie]

Reading your PA x Jamie FF has become the highlight of my day! Pls never stop posting! Can I request a FF where PA twists her ankle or sth and Jamie insists on helping her out all the time? Like carying all her stuff, carrying her up and down the stairs etc.?

At Your Service

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting, physically hurt reader, suggestive language

A/N: I love love love this request. Had so many ideas I even added a bonus in the end! Hope you like it.

It happened in the stupidest way possible.

One moment, Y/N was walking down the hallway at Nelson Road, focused on the emails she was typing, and the next, her ankle rolled awkwardly on the edge of the step leading into the locker room. Stupid High Heels...

A sharp jolt of pain shot up her leg as she stumbled forward, barely managing to catch herself against the doorframe.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, already feeling the dull throb settle in.

She turned her head and immediately regretted it.

Jamie was standing there, arms crossed, watching her with a raised eyebrow. "The fuck was that?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, standing up straight despite the pain. "I just—"

She took a step and winced.

Jamie was on her in an instant. "Oi, oi, oi—none of that," he scolded, hands hovering like he was ready to catch her at any second. "You just went down like a sack of bricks. You alright?"

"It’s fine, Jamie, really—"

He ignored her completely, kneeling down and gently wrapping his hand around her ankle, inspecting it like he was suddenly a qualified physio. "Yeah, that’s gonna be swollen as fuck in about five minutes," he declared, looking up at her with those big blue eyes of his. "You need to sit down. Now."

She sighed. "Jamie—"

Before she could protest, he stood up and—without any warning—scooped her up into his arms.

"JAMIE!" she shrieked, gripping onto his shirt.

"What?" he said, completely unfazed as he started walking. "M’helpin’ you."

"You can’t just—carry me around like this!"

"Sure I can," he said easily. "You’re my assistant, yeah? That means I gotta take care of you. Ain’t that how it works, love?"

"That is absolutely not how it works."

"Well, it is now."

She groaned, but there was no point in arguing. Jamie Tartt was nothing if not stubborn as hell when he wanted to be.

As they made it to Y/N'S office, her ankle was swelling up, and Jamie had fully committed to his self-appointed role as her personal helper.

"Right," he said, setting her down gently in her chair. "What d’you need? Water? Ice? Maybe a cuppa?"

"Jamie, I can handle it—"

"Shush," he said, pressing a finger to her lips like a dramatic idiot. "Not another word. I got this."

Before she could argue, he was off, stealing the ice pack from the physio room and shoving it against her ankle with all the gentleness of a golden retriever puppy.

"Jamie—"

"Shh, m’bein’ helpful."

He didn’t stop there. For the rest of the day, he followed her around like a shadow.

He carried all her things—even her tiny crossbody bag. He made her tea. Yup, just hot water and sugar. AGAIN. And when she needed to go upstairs for something, he flat-out refused to let her walk.

"I can walk just fine!" she insisted.

"Yeah, nah," he said, already crouching slightly. "Get on."

She blinked. "Jamie—"

"Piggyback, babe," he said with a grin. "Hop on."

She did not hop on.

She refused.

So Jamie did the only logical thing: he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

"JAMIE FUCKING TARTT!"

"What?" he laughed, carrying her up the stairs like she weighed nothing. "Told ya, I ain't lettin’ you hurt yourself worse."

"I will murder you in your sleep."

"Nah, you love me too much."

She would never admit it out loud, but—maybe, just maybe—being fussed over by Jamie Tartt wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Not that she’d tell him that.

Because if she did, she’d never hear the end of it.

By the time lunch rolled around, Y/N had resigned herself to the fact that Jamie Tartt was not going to let her do a single thing for herself.

Not. One. Thing.

Not when he had practically carried her all through the morning like she was some helpless maiden. Not when he had physically taken her laptop off her desk and plopped it onto his lap instead, typing things out for her like her own personal (and highly unqualified) secretary.

And definitely not now, when she was trying—and failing—to carry her lunch tray through the cafeteria. Barefoot. Limping.

Jamie materialized beside her, swiping the tray right out of her hands before she could argue.

"I got it," he said casually, strolling toward the nearest table like he hadn’t just stolen her food.

"Jamie, I am perfectly capable of—"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, setting her tray down before pulling out a chair for her. "C’mon then, sit."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I’m not actually dying, right?"

"You might as well be," he said dramatically, waving his hands. "Dunno if you noticed, but you’ve been limpin’ all day. Looks tragic, babe. Like somethin’ outta a sad animal documentary."

She shot him a flat look. "It’s a sprained ankle, not a career-ending injury, genius."

Jamie shrugged. "Same thing, innit?"

Before she could argue, Jamie plopped down next to her and—because he was absolutely incapable of keeping his hands to himself—stole a chip right off her plate.

"Jamie!" she swatted at his arm, but he just grinned, chewing obnoxiously.

"What? You can’t fight me for it," he teased. "You’re injured."

"You’re the worst."

"Nah, I’m proper helpful, actually," he said, nudging her. "Bet you wouldn’t even be eatin’ right now if it weren’t for me."

She sighed dramatically. "You’re right, Jamie. I would have starved to death. Thank you for your noble sacrifice."

"That’s what I’m sayin’!" he said, gesturing like she had just proven his point. "Now, go on. Eat up. Need to keep your strength up."

She huffed but took a bite of her sandwich anyway, because fine, maybe he had a point.

And for a few minutes, there was silence—until she noticed Jamie watching her, chin propped in his hand, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

She swallowed. "What?"

"Nothin’," he said, still smirking. "You’re just cute when you’re grumpy, is all."

Her face heated instantly.

"Oh, piss off," she muttered, looking away, but Jamie just laughed, absolutely thriving off her flustered reaction.

He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, teasing drawl.

"Bet you like me takin’ care of you, don’t you, love?"

She nearly choked on her food. "What?!"

Jamie grinned. "S’okay, baby, you can admit it. You love it, yeah? Me dotin’ on ya, carryin’ ya round, bein’ all sweet and that?"

She refused to give him the satisfaction.

"You’re ridiculous," she scoffed, stabbing at her food with unnecessary aggression.

Jamie just laughed again, obnoxious and way too pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, stealing another chip. "But you still let me, don’t ya?"

She had no good response to that.

And Jamie knew it.

Which meant she was never living this down.

SMALL BONUS:

Y/N had been dreading this moment all day.

Because of course, with Jamie insisting on carrying her everywhere like some sort of overenthusiastic prince charming, it was only a matter of time before she had to face the most humiliating question of all.

And Jamie, being Jamie, didn’t make it any easier.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearing her throat. "Uh, Jamie?"

"Hmm?" He didn’t even look up from his phone, lazily scrolling through some post-match analysis.

She hesitated, already regretting this. "I, um… I need to go to the bathroom."

Jamie immediately looked up, a slow, devious grin spreading across his face. "Ohhh," he said like this was the best news he’d ever received.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Don’t. Start."

"Start what?" he asked, looking utterly innocent—which was exactly how she knew he was about to start.

"Jamie," she warned.

"I mean," he continued, stretching dramatically, "since you can’t walk an’ all, guess that means I’ll have to carry you, yeah?"

Her entire body went hot. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, c’mon," he said, biting back a laugh. "I been carryin’ you everywhere else. Why stop now?"

"Because this is different!"

"How?" He leaned in, way too entertained by this. "You think I’m gonna just drop ya in the loo an’ run? Or you worried I’ll hear somethin’ I shouldn’t?"

Y/N groaned, covering her face. "Jamie, for the love of—"

"Bet you’re a shy pee-er, aren’t ya?" he said, grinning like an idiot.

She wanted to die.

"Shut up!" she hissed, glancing around in case anyone overheard.

Jamie, being the absolute menace that he was, kept going.

"Could always help, y’know," he said, mock-thoughtful. "Like, if you need me to hold you over the—"

"STOP TALKING."

He howled with laughter, doubling over like this was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him.

"You’re such a child," she muttered, covering her face.

Jamie wiped fake tears from his eyes. "Fuckin’ hell, babe, you’re killin’ me."

"Good."

Still grinning, Jamie stood up and stretched. "Right, c’mon then. Let’s get this over with."

"I hate you," she mumbled as he bent down, effortlessly scooping her up bridal style.

"Nah, you love me," he said, way too cocky.

And, okay. Maybe she did.

But she’d rather die than admit it.

[argentinagp]

in light of #febyuri ... do you have any femslash fic recs?

YES of course!! first things first tho, check the @f1femslashfest collection! everyday 2 fics go up! now the rec list:

R63 RECOMMENDATIONS: with summaries

she's on the tip of my tongue, she's on the top of my thighs (alex/george) by ofmoonsandlight

“This is my roommate George,” Alex says sweetly, and then she introduces the guy. She’s only forgotten a name once, twice at the most, and George is good at knowing when to bat her eyelashes and saccharinely ask for an introduction and a handshake. Finally, when the first well-choreographed steps are completed, Alex stands back up on her own two feet and, with a smile, says, “You don’t mind if she stays for the movie, do you?”

in the centre of this room (charles/lewis) by wisteriagoesvroom (bobaheadshark)

“I don’t think they do 2000s music here. That’s for Thursdays,” Charlie says. Lewis pins her with a stare. “Did you just call me old?” Charlie puts one hand on her chest. “I would never, Ms. Hamilton.”

something in between (charles/sebastian) by @hungriestheidi

For the first time in its long history, Ferrari has a full line up of female drivers. It's momentous, groundbreaking. It’s bound to be a problem.

for the wicked (charles/lando) by @cherrari

Sebastian might be sweet and kind with Charles, but there’s no way he knows how to pull this out of her—the feral, flushed creature currently sprawled beneath Lando.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough (alex/george) by Oceanallaround

The one where George and Alex are chalet girls for the ski season and experience the terrifying ordeal of growing up and falling in love. Featuring try-hard ski flop George, loser-core snowboarder Alex, too many beds, a shared throat infection, lesbian shenanigans, and Susie Wolff as the real mvp.

girl, so confusing (charles/max) by 140445

And there has always been something between her and Max. If not something—then the lack of it. They could be so much to each other—but they are not. Things bled dry from one cancelled dinner. Charles wonders if that thing between them is the fact that Max hates her. Or that Charles hates Max. Or that they both mutually hate each other. Or that Charles is seething with jealousy over the things Max got before she got them—or that there is just nothing between them. Nothing at all.

Black Lace Elderberry Bushes (charles/lewis) by MrStank

The lace veils that adorned Charles' body cast sweet floral shadows on her skin, twisting around her like vines, rising and dying in the areas covered by the embroidered fabric of her lingerie, tongues of fire on an alabaster canvas. Lewis elegantly raised her hand in the Monegasque’s direction as if to invite her to dance, and a few steps away, Charles accepted it, turning once on herself as if the other women had led her in a slow pirouette.

Eiskalt (charles/lewis) by aflowerofwords

Charles was panting so much, she was convinced she was having a heart attack. She could see the finish line, in the stadium, just a measly thirty meters in front of her. Her legs were on fire, every movement, no matter how small, felt like a fresh layer of burning coal was applied directly to her bones. Her arms were not in better shape. She glanced behind her as the cheers of the crowd grew in intensity. Lewis was only fifteen meters behind her. And looked hell-bent on reclaiming her throne.

should have each other with cream (charles/max) by cryystal_m00n

Here she is, crying in a vet clinic, at four in the morning, after having found out that her cat is pregnant and that she needs to focus her life on helping her raise the kids since the dad decided to leave without paying child support, while the vet who told her this is watching her with a concerned look. The tarot reading she watched was right, after all.

lacy black pair (charles/oscar) by @oscarpiastriwdc

“Would you like that, Oscar?” Charles leans in, extends a hand to grip Oscar’s exposed thigh. “For me to dress you?” Oscar nods, doesn’t trust herself not to say something embarrassing if she opens her mouth. “Good,” Charles purrs.

freed from desire (charles/max) by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream)

There are still—those moments. Where Charles is having fun, having a little distraction, a little new friend to play with, and then looks at Max and sees something hungry in her eyes that makes her shiver. They’re friends and they’re not. Something not quite there and might never be. It’s summer anyway, who cares?

grow the apple, keep all the seeds (charles/nico) by @princesscharlesofmonaco

Nico Rosberg, second ever female WDC, visits Charles the day before her first grand prix weekend. And Charles doesn’t talk about Nico in interviews, doesn’t list her as an inspiration the way she’s heard some of the girls in the lower formulae do it. Charles likes to talk about Michael, about Senna. If urged to name a woman she’ll say Niki Lauda. Charles doesn’t really want to be associated with girls who walk away, although she’s much too well-trained to say that out loud.

teach me, walk me, ride me (charles/nico) by @blorbocedes

Nico hadn't meant to take Charles under her wing. In fact, she was fully ready to watch the poor thing flounder and drown in the ruthless and cutting old money Monegasque high society. But Charles was the first female F1 driver since Lewis Hamilton, and that - for better or for worse - intrigued her.

like honey but sweeter (the grass here is greener) (alex/george) by @deafleppard

“Georgie,” she butts in, only half paying attention as she types out a dumb comment on Lando’s latest Instagram post. “Have you ever thought about just dating women?”

fall right into me (lewis/george) by @gaynfl

George's hands are shaking.

my mess, my ball of string (alex/george) by @gaynfl

It happens, for the first time, in the hallway of their apartment. or - alex keeps kissing george.

float away like vapour (alex/george/lando) by peachbellini

“You want to though, right?” Alex continues. “Get with Lando tonight? I’d be up for it.”

square shaped smile, heart shaped mouth (sebastian/nico) by finedae

nico assesses all the suitable prospects for her date to prom: jenson, lewis, mark. seb shows her sometimes the best man for the job is a girl.

i wish you a kinder sea by (charles/max) leafycats

It’s… shockingly tender, is what it is. It’s true that: they are not enemies (they are rivals, it’s a big difference, Charles knows), they have talked more the past six months than that they have in twelve years, and that Max is not a person Charles minds hanging out with. But: they are not friends, let alone close friends. And surely this is something you only do with the people closest to you? Ask her to put your hair into a ponytail? After waiting outside her favorite night club? Max is bold, she’ll give Max that. Maybe that’s why she agreed?

Cherry Wine (charles/max/daniel) by amarynas

“I didn’t order another drink.” The bartender nodded and wiped over the counter next to Charles. “It’s from the lady over there,” he answered, pointing over his shoulder. Charles glanced over his shoulder to the other side of the bar, and was faced with an all too familiar face, brown eyes, brown curls, bright grin. No one else but Daniel, Max’ new girlfriend. What the hell?

happy endings (lewis/nico) by @blorbocedes

“Lewis?” All her years of training flies out of the window in that second, when Lewis’ name – her real name, and not the fake passport name she's staying under - is called. Lewis’ head snaps to the voice, the nasally, high-pitched, almost familiar voice belonging to the blonde woman in front of her. Summer in Greece. Body over body. A docked boat, aimlessly bouncing. The taste of rum. Blue eyes staring into brown, making fantastical promises. The constellation for Hermes. A golden summer with a golden girl. “Nico.”

treat with care (charles/pierre) by arachnidisa

“You know, I’ve never actually-” Charles starts, then stops. Pierre can’t quite figure out what she’s trying to say. “What, had a brownie?” Pierre offers on half a laugh, but Charles shakes her head. If Pierre looks closer she can see the faintest bit of pink in her cheeks, the beginnings of a blush. Charles blushes easily, has always done, and Pierre loves to tease her for it, but she holds back this time. “Had an orgasm,” Charles says, and Pierre’s brain grinds to a halt.

give a kiss, get a cab (alex/charles) by @pipitwrites 

Alex nearly spits out her drink when she spots Charles in a corner by the windows. Charles has more than put in the effort tonight, wearing a glittery tight little mini skirt and strappy sandals that show off the long line of her legs and the pert curve of her ass where it meets her thighs.

Sun, Shoes and Crochet Crop Tops (nico/jenson) by Anonymous

Nico’s ankles are so small she could wrap her hand around them, her feet too really, nails painted a delicate blue, a light brown sandal with crossing straps and a small heel on each foot. Still, she doesn’t move, not yet. Nico is watching her like a hawk, her face frustratingly hard to read, but she’s not shoving Jenson away either. “These are pretty.”

Riding the Wave (nico/jenson) by n_ico_ando

Nico attempts to navigate her failing friendship with Lewis while sleeping with Mark and falling for Jenson.

no stopping it (charles/sebastian) by tetrapod

Charles had never completely gotten over being the weird, almost star-struck girl in the Ferrari paddock. And Seb had always been Seb.

drove me wild (charles/sebastian) by withfeathers

“You know, here’s a life lesson for you, since you seem to be so desperate for them: don’t apologise if you’re not actually sorry,” Seb tells her. She’s fidgeting with the collar of her t-shirt. Charles hates how even in this moment, she can’t help but be drawn to the movement, can’t help but notice how Seb looks, a tendril of want curling in her belly at the sight - her unruly curls, the heat flashing in her blue eyes, the place where her too-large t-shirt is starting to slip off her shoulder, revealing the thick strap of her sports bra.

i look too good to be alone (alex/liam) by dropdeaddeadass

Despite the gruelling embarrassment, Liam is secretly happy the message was sent to Alex.

your other one evaporate (sebastian/nico) by sionisjaune

Sebastian spots the princess on the balcony, a glass of champagne dangling over the railing in her limp grip.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Misapprehensions and Confessions (part 2)

(moodboard creds to @sunshinebingo🥹)

Day 2: First Fight

Summary: It has been a regular routine for Gwyn to seek out the spymaster for training. And when he suggests helping her out with getting reaccustomed to society, it doesn't take too much persuasion for Gwyn to agree. But when he doesn't show up one day, Gwyn takes up the liberty to accompany herself into the city.

That one decision is all it takes for it all to fall apart.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 3943

Warnings: angst hehehe, misunderstanding, azzie is a dummy but sweetheart cassian is there to make you happy 💪🏻 a teensy bit of an argument, but i think thats it?

A/n: heres the second part for the mini series for day 2 of @sjmromanceweek❣️ writing the angst was so much fun honestly, LIKE IT GAVE ME LIFE 🥹🥹🥹

once again, it was so good doing this collab with my love @sunshinebingo 🥹 ily so much omg thank you for doing this w me😭🥹

Read on AO3 here

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Gwyn’s pov.

Next week came, but the Shadowsinger did not.

Gwyn had been waiting for almost an hour at their usual meet up spot in one of the sitting rooms in the House of Wind, having snagged a book from the library to flip through as she waited.

She had been excited for the meet up, to say the least. She couldn’t stop wondering where he was going to take her this time after going to the restaurant the previous week. The thought had kept her up all night as she twisted and turned in her sheets.

She had gone the extra mile while getting dressed up too, picking out the teal sweater Azriel had once mentioned made her eyes look brighter. Under that, she wore a pencil skirt with tights, having seen one of the females in Velaris wear something similar. She had thought the female looked pretty, and wanted to see what she looked like in it herself.

She continued to flip the pages of the book, reading and reading, smiling at the words. The story was cute, one of a female who was trying to save her family with the help of her siblings and friends, one of them being her love interest. The banter, the softness they shared made Gwyn long for a similar connection, if not more.

She loved the male love interest a lot, and the fact that he was so similar to one of her own friends did not go unnoticed by Gwyn.

Maybe she will have her own love story one day, with the friend she liked more than she should.

More than friends should like each other.

But with each moment that passed, her eyes stopped reading, and remained unseeing. The tilt of her lips fading as she got lost in her own head. She stared down at the soft, crinkling pages, running her fingers over the edges. They were painted in beautiful shades, depicting a scenery of a mountain from the book.

Pretty.

But not pretty enough to distract her from the absence of a certain Shadowsinger.

Footsteps drew Gwyn from her reverie, and she perked up, her gaze lading on the doors she had left ajar. Hope bloomed in her gut, even as she knew it was not the one she had been expecting coming closer to her.

The footsteps were too heavy, too powerful, to be his.

Still, she waited, she watched, she wished.

She hoped.

And a moment later, Cassian strutted into view, a smile gracing his face when he realised Gwyn was in the room. She returned the smile, willing her disappointment to vanish.

“Gwyn! Good seeing you here!” He paused behind the couch adjacent to the one Gwyn sat on. “I thought you might be down in Velaris, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Gwyn sighed, relaxing into the soft cushions behind her. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

His brows furrowed, and he quickly glanced around the room. “Where’s Az?”

She shrugged, setting the book aside and pushing to her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s busy?”

Cassian’ confusion was palpable as he huffed. “He can never be busy enough to put off your dates.”

“We don’t go on dates.” Gwyn scowled. “They are outings.”

He simply smirked in return, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Sure, right. My bad.”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched him walk over to the balcony, dusting off her skirt absentmindedly. “Are you going somewhere?”

He glanced back at her, nodding. “Nesta’s at the river house with Feyre and Nyx. Gonna go pick her up.”

Gwyn chewed on her lip as she thought, then her eyes shot to him. “Hey Cass?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you take me down to the city?”

This time he turned to her fully, his brows high on his forehead. “I…what?”

Gwyn rolled her eyes, ignoring the new sadness taking root in her chest at the lack of those playful shadows and their quiet master’s presence. “Do you not want to?”

He took a step forward before pausing, extending his hand. “Oh no, no I would love to. I am just surprised, that’s all.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow, but moved closer to him to let him pick her up. By this point, she was comfortable enough with him that the spike of fear and anxiety no longer pierced her heart when he was in close proximity to her, and it was just another thing she was proud of herself for.

He gently wound his arms under her knees and back, careful to only touch her where needed, and flapped  his wings once. There was a reason the house built in the mountain was called the House of Wind, because as soon as he lifted from the ground, a powerful gust of wind caught under his wings and sent them soaring. He glided smoothly, his wing muscles beating effortlessly. Five centuries of flying practice truly showed in his skills.

Gwyn had once studied about wings and how they work, reading extensively about Illyrian ones. They had been so fascinating to her then, as they were fascinating to her now. The way they moved always had her mesmerized. Every time she flew with Azriel too, she would either always stare at his wings or the city down below.

Azriel.

Gwyn looked away from Cassian’s wings, instead casting her gaze downwards, towards the ground that rapidly grew closer as he descended. His feet touched the ground with a light thump before he bent slightly and set Gwyn on her feet.

“Are you sure about this, Gwyn?”

She turned to him, nodding. “I am. We go out every week so I can get accustomed to socialising once more.” And just because Gwyn was feeling petty, she added. “I’m not going to mess up my routine just because someone cannot be bothered to inform me before standing me up.”

Cassian’s lips parted, but then he closed them with an amused smirk. “Very proud of you, Gwyn.”

Though his expression was teasing, his words sounded so genuine they nearly brought Gwyn to tears.

“Thank you, Cass.”

“I will likely be here for an hour or two, depending on Nyx’s mood and who he is currently attached to today, so you can just come to the River House if you want to go back.” He clasped her shoulder, smiling. “And even if I’m up there, you can just ask Rhys to get me, yeah?”

Gwyn nodded gratefully. “Of course, thank you again.”

She waited until Cassian had turned away, waving in farewell as he climbed up the steps to one of the majestic houses of the High Lord.

Then she turned, and began wandering down the street.

She gazed at everything she passed by, unwilling to miss even a moment of the sheer beauty of Velaris. The shimmering waters of the Sidra, the golden shadows casted by the dying sun across the ground and the flora, the faelights bobbing gently over the entrances to shops and restaurants. Hawkers selling their wares, fruit stalls next to dessert stalls.

She walked without a destination in mind, her hand bent at a slight angle towards her thigh - where she had strapped her dagger under her skirt- involuntarily, the action muscle memory at this point.

She was lost in thought, wondering what could have been so important that Azriel had not even bothered to inform her. It could have been that he was on an important mission, and that he had no way to contact her. It could have been that he had almost completely forgotten.

Gwyn didn’t know. But she did know that she was mad, and she would not forgive him until he had grovelled enough.

The moment she had the thought, guilt followed. What if he truly was busy and if he had taken time off to send her a letter, he could have been in danger?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought as she glanced around her. She felt tired already, so bored out of her mind without him. She had no idea what she even wanted to do anymore. It would have been better if she had stayed home and completed her projects for Merrill.

Home.

It was such a beautiful, comforting word. The word that had meant nothing to Gwyn for years after her sister was taken from her. It was just that, a word. No meaning, no feelings.

But for quite some time now, since she had met Nesta, since the day Gwyn had dragged herself to the training ring, telling herself over and over that she would be fine, better even, that Cassan would not hurt her, that he wasn’t that kind of a male, a male pathetic enough to force females to feel better about his own self, the word had taken on a new meaning.

Gwyn had learned that home meant more than just four walls and a roof. Home meant friends. Home meant laughing over trivial things, freely and loudly. Home meant warmth.

Home meant Azriel.

She didn’t know when, or how, but slowly, he had become the definition of friend, the laughter, the warmth that made a home, home.

And slowly, the intimidating, lonely walls that had kept her from the scary outside world became so much more.

It was almost dark, the horizon tinting darker and darker with each passing moment, when Gwyn stumbled upon the restaurant that Azriel had taken her to the previous week.

She smiled at the sight of those pristine walls, the memories that surfaced threatening to make her giggle. She walked on, passing by the entrance, the beautiful stars leading up to it.

And she caught a whiff of the smell she had become so familiar with.

It caused her bones to freeze, her muscles stiffening as she turned her head to look.

The interior was still dark, so different compared to the outside. Soft aroma of chicken, rice, herbs, everything drifted out, mixing into such a sweet smell that it would be impossible to not go in.

But yet, under that, was the smell of cedar, of night, of shadows.

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, and she had only taken a step up the stairs when she saw him.

Past the reception, past a number of tables and chairs and candles, he sat.

At the same spot he had sat with Gwyn.

With the same smile on his face, his eyes soft. His hand under his chin, his lips tilted as he nodded.

At a female. The chair Gwyn had occupied merely seven days ago was now occupied by a female.

She looked like a complete opposite of her.

Curly blonde hair piled spilled down her shoulders, her eyes and skin the prettiest shade of brown. Her figure was curvy, soft, sweet. So unlike Gwyn.

The female wore a strapless tight fitting dress, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

She looked so comfortable, so confident, Gwyn wondered why she ever thought she even stood a chance with Azriel. Of course he’d be interested in someone who was confident in herself, someone who wasn’t afraid to know and show she was pretty.

His words from the previous week floated around in her head amidst the confusion and hurt, solidifying her new beliefs.

“So you like it?”

“Of course I like it! Anyone would love this place. It is so beautiful.”

Had she been only a friend who he wanted the opinion of to impress the female he was actually interested in? Just a guinea pig?

Gwyn’s eyes prickled, and she took a step away, as if simply the sight of Azriel touching the other female’s hand - smiling secretively, his eyes hooded and seductive- would burn her.

Yet she couldn’t look away, not until someone bumped into her shoulder, apologising profusely. She didn’t even look at the fae. She bowed her head in acknowledgement before willing her legs to move. Hoping to leave before Azriel’s shadows - who for some reason were so attuned to her every move that she would find them anywhere she went - reported her presence to their master.

She moved through the thickening crowds, laughing children and flirting adults. Kept pushing herself to walk, to run, back to the River House. She needed to go back. She knew she could not handle any interactions, especially one with Azriel if he found her before she could drown herself in work.

Just when the house came into sight, she slowed down, blinking hard and regulating her breathing. She could see activity inside the house, soft warm light spilling onto the grass under the windows and the porch leading up to the main door, which opened just as she went to knock.

“Gwyn?” Nesta stared at her wide eyed, brows high in surprise.

“Um, hey Nesta.” Gwyn swallowed uneasily.

Instantly, Nesta was alert. “What happened? Did someone do something? Where’s Azriel?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you Nes. I think Az forgot about their date and Gwyn went into the city alone.” Cassian’s voice answered before Gwyn could, and for that she was grateful, as she wasn’t feeling particularly excited to speak.

Nesta’s eyes hardened as she glanced at her mate. “He mentioned he was going out with a female. Did he not inform you? ” She turned to glare at Gwyn. “And even if he forgot, why the hell did you-”

“Nesta, she is not a child.”

Gwyn’s blood went hot, anger simmering through each vein as she realised he really was on a date. And he had told Nesta, but not her.

She would kill him.

Nesta opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think the better of it and just pulled Gwyn into a hug. “What happened, Gwyn? Why do you look so spooked?”

Gwyn shook her head as best as she could in her friend’s embrace, her heart finally slowing down slightly at the comforting touch. “Nothing, really. I just got a bit… anxious, that’s all. I just want to go back up.”

Nesta pulled away, nodding and turned to Cassian. “Drop her off at the house please, I can wait.”

“Nesta- no-”

The glare Gwyn received in return was enough to shut her up as Cassian picked her into his arms like she weighed nothing, then shot into the sky.

“She really is scary sometimes, no?”

Gwyn huffed, her lips tilting in a surprised smile. “She was mad when we first met too.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating against Gwyn’s upper arm as she kept her arms folded close to her chest. He quieted after that, his focus solely on the mountain that loomed over them.

He flew towards the main sitting room, which they all used most of the time, as far as Gwyn knew.

But he was not Azriel, and the sitting room was not close to the library.

Just another reminder of how considerate, how attentive Azriel had always been to her. Of how he forgot about her today.

But no, she wouldn’t spend her day thinking about him anymore. Not when he couldn’t even bother to let her know he was going on a real date.

That he was ditching her for the one who he actually wanted.

She bid a goodbye to Cassian, not waiting to see him fly off before she retreated to the dorm she shared with her fellow priestesses, pulling out the large tomes she had been assigned to read through and summarise.

But she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus.

Not with him occupying her thoughts.

Az's pov

Something was wrong. 

Azriel had considered many things in order to understand what was bothering him so much. 

Last night's mission had gone fine; the female he had to seduce to get important intel an easy one to flirt with to get her to talk, even when his entire being had recoiled at his sweet talking and his suggestive touches. Even his shadows had felt uncomfortable and had hissed after every few minutes of the interaction. But it had been a necessity for his job, his duty towards his court. The accomplishment of this mission should have filled him with relief and a sense of freedom from something he had felt reluctant towards from the start. But still…

Rhys and Feyre had thanked him for the information he had gathered that day. Azriel didn't need their thanks for having done something that was expected of him, although having the validation of his High Lord and Lady had been nice. But still…

Something was wrong. 

You know what, one of his shadows whispered. The only one that had bothered speaking to him since his mission with that female. All the others were still oddly silent, leaving that one - the same one which had always favoured Gwyn since they all met her - to occasionally use its voice to throw some scathing comments at him.

Azriel sighed after one of his daggers hit one of the dummies in the training ring. 

“Yes. I know,” he muttered, even with no one but the moon and his silent shadows to hear him.

At least he thought.

Footsteps sounded at the doorway, before the source of Azriel’s troubled mind walked onto the training area. An intense wave of emotion washed over him; hope, relief, joy, excitement…awe.

Gwyn looked breathtaking under the starry sky, the night making her look even more fierce as she walked determinedly to the weapons rack clad in skin tight leathers.

Azriel stood still for a moment, unable to move as he watched his shadows - every single one of them - rush to her. Gwyn giggled at their excited dance around her. He heard her whisper something to them but couldn't make out what it was. He mentally called for his shadows to come back to him. None listened. 

“Uh… hey,” he finally blurted out.

Gwyn turned to him then. Azriel felt a heavy weight drop in his stomach at the apathetic look in her eyes. His heart constricted with fear and worry, so much that he immediately began walking towards her.

“What happe-”

“Hi,” she cut his question off. Her dry tone stopped him in his tracks.

“Are you alright?”

Something flickered in her eyes for a second before she turned her back to him, took a deep breath in, then out, and picked up a few daggers from the rack. 

“I'm fine,” she gritted out without looking at him.

Azriel frowned in confusion.

The hell she was.

He hadn't seen her at training this morning, hadn't caught a single glimpse of her anywhere for the entire day, hadn't heard the sound of her voice. And now that she was here before him, the usual light missing from her eyes and her posture stiff as though from restraint, she dared say that she was fine?

Gwyn walked past him, his shadows trailing behind, and stopped a distance away from the dummies in which the daggers he had thrown earlier were still embedded.

He followed.

“You can lie to anyone about this, Gwyn, but you can't deceive me.”

Her first dagger flew and landed in a dummy's throat. She let out a humorless laugh.

“Is this tonight's lesson then? Lies and deception?”

She threw another dagger, this one lodging itself in the centre of the dummy's chest.

Azriel looked at Gwyn from head to toe, hoping to find answers to the growing mystery unfolding before him. He desperately wished to know what was happening to her. He needed to make her feel better. Azriel needed his Gwyn back.

“Gwyn please,” he took a few steps until he stood right in front of her. His shadows remained closer to her. “What is happening?”

The sadness that darkened her eyes as she looked at him made him feel like the dummy, this invisible weapon sinking straight into his heart. It twisted deeper inside him with the tears that he noticed pooling in her eyes.

He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek. “My Gwyn,” he whispered, unaware that it had made it out of his mouth. 

Her teal eyes fixed on his hazel ones, searching. For what, he did not know? But he was certain that he was ready to give her anything. Before he could give in to the urge to pull her into his arms, anger flashed on her face. 

She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. 

“Don't,” she said as she put more distance between them. 

Azriel didn't hear what she murmured to his shadows due to the beating of his heart resonating in his ears and which drowned out every other sound. He didn't even acknowledge them slithering back to him. He only watched Gwyn run away and disappear through the doorway. 

Azriel stood there, frozen and stunned. Until he felt his shadows smack him in the face, their shadowy forms conveniently solid for a task like this. 

Idiot master, hissed the one shadow.

Is that all you have to say? He scowled at it. What would have been more helpful was if they told him what was wrong and how he could fix things with Gwyn. But that was apparently not in their plans. 

I'm going with her, was all it said before it floated away. The others stayed. They remained silent, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts. 

The conversation - or was it an argument? He wasn't sure - replayed over and over in his head, even as he descended the stairs down into the House of Wind. He was so distracted that he didn't notice Cassian until he almost crashed into the chair he sat in at the living room table.

“Whoa! You alright here brother?” Cass asked, his mouth full of the cake he had a huge slice of on his plate. 

Azriel pulled the chair next to Cassian and sat down. He pulled Cassian’s plate towards him and snatched his fork right out of his hand.

“I'm fine,” he said. He winced at the memory of those same words coming from Gwyn. The dread he hadn't realised he had been feeling worsened at the mere thought of her name. 

He dug into Cassian's midnight snack, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth.

“You don't have anything to do with Gwyn rushing down the stairs to the library like the house is on fire do you?” Cassian stared at him with raised brows.

Azriel looked at him. “What…?” was all he managed to ask with his full mouth.

What is happening to her, to us? What did I do? How do I fix this? 

His shadows still remained silent.

Cassian stared at him while rubbing his chin.

“Listen, I'm only asking because she hasn't seemed well since she went out alone yesterday.”

Azriel suddenly felt like he was swallowing stones. “What?” he asked incredulously. 

What is he talking about? 

His shadows did not answer him again. But Cassian thankfully did.

“She insisted that she didn’t mind you missing one of your dates,” he put the last word between air quotes, “but her face told another story.”

Cassian kept talking, telling him how Gwyn had looked when she had joined them at the River House after.

Something clicked inside him. The fork he held fell on the table, its clatter echoing in the room.

Finally, his shadows muttered collectively.

“You're more dense than I thought.” Cassian shook his head, disappointment lacing his words as he dragged the plate back to him.

Azriel’s eyes widened. His heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced in panic.

He fucked up. And now he was paying for it, he realised. He needed to fix this. He had to if he wanted Gwyn back. And Azriel was willing to do anything.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[citizensun]

yeah, lula and maduro both began their political careers as union representatives for their bluecollar jobs - in maduro's case he was a metro driver, I believe. that's a big reason why they initially rose so high as leftist leaders, as they were able to create a closer relationship to the similarly working class population who did not have access to higher education - in 1990, a year after lula first ran for president, about 22% of Brazilians were unable to read and 40% had only finished second grade. (for contrast, though I couldn't find exact matches, 88% of 17 year olds were still in high school in 2019 and alphabetization is at around 94%)

the reason for rdc's president tshisekedi's lack of higher education is way more insane:

meloni is a interesting case, since she apparently joined a youth political group as a teenager and started working in politics straight out of high school

boric (chile) did in fact go to college and got involved with politics there, but never passed his last mandatory exam and got his diploma. I guess he just shifted his career goals from there. marcos jr (phillipines) ALSO started a fuckton of degrees he never finished, which included a scandal because he claimed to have finished oxford's philosophy, politics and economics course but didn't. but he's a marcos so who cares!

both ireland's pm (head of government) and president (head of state) have college degrees, so I don't know what this map is talking about

Education of World Leaders

[rebelspacequeen]

Batfamily Secret Santa

This has been in my head since December but I only just got around to actually typing it out. The whole idea and script is from Brooklyn 99 cold opening from "Game Night" Season 5, Episode 10. I tried to keep it as much gender neutral as possible.

______________________________________________________________

"And so concludes this year's secret Santa draw. Just a quick reminder of the rules: $200 limit, no perishable food, and no untested homemade weapons." Bruce said looking around at the group in front of him.

"Oh Bruce, I would like a $200 gift card to biggest bookstore in Gotham." I said as I interlock my hands on my lap.

"I don't have you." Bruce responded with a deadpan stare at me.

"Not only do I know that you do in fact have me, but I also know who everyone else has." I said with a smug smile, waving my hands around the group.

"That's not possible." Dick chimed in.

"Perhaps not for an ordinary man such as yourself, Richard. But for the brilliant mind of Detective Sherlock Holmes aka me, it's quite simply- elementary." I get up from my seat and stand next to Bruce.

"For you see, Jason made a face I only recognized from our venting sessions, which means he has Bruce. Dick has Jason. His eyes keep shifting over to him."

"No, I don't." Dick responds as his eyes yet again shift to Jason.

"Damian looked happy, which means he has Dick. Kate didn't draw a name, nor did she put one in. She doesn't want to participate."

"Never do." Kate speaks up as she leans back against the counter.

"Duke moves his mouth when he reads and he quite clearly said Damian."

"I did get Damian." Duke looks at me before turning it over to show the group.

"Tim has Duke. He's holding his paper name side out."

Tim blinks a few times to wake up before looking down at the paper which he is in fact holding name side out. "Oh she's good."

"And I have Tim which means Bruce has me." I smile as I turn to Bruce. "I'll be taking that gift card. I love new books."

I clasps my hands in front of me as I look around at the quiet and stunned group.

There is another second of silence before Bruce says, "Should we draw the names again and leave you out?" He says to me before turning to face the group.

A uniform 'Yeah' is the responds he gets.

"No! Sherlock wants a present!" I yell out.

[almostthursdayy]

Do you have any facts about L in Death Day? Or maybe stuff that's backstory-related?

I just wanna know more about your interpretation of him because you never miss + I love his DD design so very much :']

got really excited about this ask and ended up making a whole family tree + collage of memories from L’s childhood. . . whoops! ( i already know tumblr gonna chew and EAT these images so click for better quality lolol )

sphiel ( + alt arts ) about family tree 🌳 below the read more!

🌳 LAWLIET FAMILY TREE

first off, everyone’s wreath is based off their ethnicity. if someone has more than one ethnicity ( literally like 75% on the diagram ) their wreath is like some kind of mutant almagamation hybrid lovechild tree of the different kinds of trees.

>> also if they are dead, so is their wreath! and they’re also desaturated / greyed out. . . if they’re dead and crying, it means they were murdered.

>> and also each limb and each little leaf bush signifies something.

>> also i made a 4 minute long tiktok video speed explaining this you can click to see here lol

i’ll go L outwards for this, i hope you enjoy!!

🍰 LOVE ‘ L ‘ LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar ), ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

KOFI, biological mother: strong connection besides death. smarts came from her, she’s an intellectual lady who everyone always told him he looked just like her when she was alive.

VINCENT, biological father: also strong connection besides death. got his conviction and radicalism from him ( also he’s completely based on canon L’s looks ). L always thought he looked more like him than his mom.

WATARI, adoptive father: very strong connection, relies on this man for literally everything. very unorthodox father-son relationship, but L would call watari his father.

M, wife: oouughhhh he’s in love with her strange ways and peculiar looks. L’s type is interesting people, unpredictable folks who can pull the rug out from under him. . . M’s just that.

NEAR, biological daughter: his little princess, isn’t she beautiful? if near has a bad day, L’s having a bad day. currently he’s having the biggest ego trip right now because near wants to be just like him. and his selfish immature side kind of loves that he created his number 1 fan.

MELLO, adoptive son: that’s his boy, his interesting little guy that he totally doesn’t study the reaction of in every interaction they have. ( frankly most interactions L has he subconsciously treats as tests on the other ) but this kid interests him, so he’s very welcome to stick around and be his son, his little prince.

ROGER, father-in-law-figure: ‘ everytime we interact, i deduce you are a little less qualified for the job watari has given you. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ watari & L’s connection line is bountiful on his side to show the benefits of he and watari’s relationship. there is a small branch at the base of the limb to resemble somebody else L had a somewhat similar relationship with once upon a time. but shes not pictured.

➡️➡️ his wreath is covered in flowers, cocoa pods, and leaves to symbolize that he should have a very long life ahead of him.

➡️➡️ the small branch shooting off L & M’s love line is to represent his effort to connect to mello.

💫 KOFI PÍÈSÍE ‘ PAPRIKA ‘ PEPRAH-LAWLIET

ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

VINCENT, husband: she loved this man to bits! oh just the absolute most! it was a storybook romance truly, too good for this earth- - no one got her quite like her do <3

L, biological son: her pretty little boy, she was gonna make sure he was safe and protected in this big scary world no matter what! couldn’t wait to see what her little smartie grew up to be.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves and her cocoa pods are rotty because she is very very dead. . . all of her branches represent family members she had, her connection to them is severed in some form or way.

🎨 VINCENT ‘ DO ‘ LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

KOFI, wife: his first muse, his eternal flame, good christ he loved her to to the point of dedicating everything to her. all his paintings revolved around her in some form of way. often by including the stars she was so fond of.

L, biological son: if vincent was the moon, kofi was the sun, L was all the little tinsy stars. his one in a billion little guy. like kofi, vincent was also steadfast in L being able to protect himself from the big scary world. he was so proud of the little man he was becoming.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves because he is very very dead. . . and not really any branches due to a complete lack of family besides wife & son.

➡️➡️ one spikey for each person he’s gravely pissed off. . . three spikes lead to kofi for those hateful individuals who also despise her just by marrying him. and two spikes lead to L for two absolutely hateful sons of bitches who loathe L aswell.

🗝️ QUILLISH ‘ WATARI ‘ WAMMY

european ( english oak )

L, adoptive son: ah yes, his little prodigy that really should get out of the house more. . . fortunately, there’s a solution to that. . . just making him go! which L doesn’t seem to whine and complain about like he did once he upon a time, years ago. seems his boy has finally grown into a man that understands, whether he likes it or not, engaging in more civilian experiences is a necessity for he and his family’s health.

➡️➡️ watari doesn’t see the care he still puts into L now as continuing his fatherly care. it’s strictly as his butler / righthand. . . watari does not take payment for this work though as he ‘ has all he could ever want already ‘.

ROGER, life-long friend / father-in-law-figure: watari believes wholeheartedly roger can run the orphanage they built from the ground together. it’s too much faith and belief, really. so much that it blinds him to seeing how much roger is NOT qualified for this.

M, daughter-in-law: changed so much since the day she walked into wammy’s. . . he’s watched her grow from a much farther distance than L. he’s happy with the progress she’s made in her health from the sickly little girl who needed the orphanages help. happy to be her butler and listening ear when need be.

NEAR & MELLO, adoptive grandchildren: oh these children are much easier to please than L was at his age. . . but maybe that’s just the years of experience of handling L speaking. want a toy? got it. new puzzle? right on the way. need to be driven to soccer practice? hop in the car.

➡️➡️ since near isn’t the ultimate sweet tooth like L, and mello only really likes chocolate worth sweets, watari very much so enjoys making them treats that leave the comfort zone of L’s sugar craving.

KOFI & VINCENT, adoptive son’s biological parents: he bets they were wonderful people.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ no leaves on his wreath to signify he is old as a fart. but his longest branches have leaves to indicate that those connections are strong and he does enjoy them!

➡️➡️ each branch signifies a person not shown in watari’s life. specifically the one connected to his wreath is for family no longer here. the ones all along his line ‘ connected ‘ to roger is representative of other colleagues and friends. and the branches on his connection line to L resemble other children watari had a bond with as a caregiver. though none of them were strong, or made it as far, as his relationship with his son, L.

🥀 MASATOSHI ‘ M ‘ MIYAKE

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

AKUMI, biological mother: M only knows her through journal entries akumi started to write at the beginning of her pregnancy, like a baby scrapbook! M treats that thing like her bible. . . akumi was very excited to be a mother. . . such a shame she died right at the start of what should’ve been their jounrey together, huh?

KINSHU, biological father: M also never got to meet him. he died before she was born trying to protect akumi & her. his death is what caused the stress that killed akumi. so it’s all just truly unfortunate.

ROGER, father-figure: spent the most time with her during her years at wammy’s out of any other caregiver. since she was ‘ the easiest kids to deal with ‘ ( something she wore with honor back then, now doesn’t like to be reminded about ). M had once hoped one day roger would adopt her like watari did with L, now she’s glad he didn’t. as he continues to fumble his interactions with her ‘ not so easy to handle ‘ children. . .

L, husband: the weird little freak that lives in the walls of her manor. he intrigues her with his obtuse behavior and strange existence. . . but no seriously she’s head over heels for this scratchy beast. loves how much he spoils her rotten

NEAR, biological daughter: her precious girl, named near because she’s so near and dear to her heart, her little smartie pants whose just so goddamn smart. works herself happily to the bone to ensure near’s receiving the best care all around.

MELLO, adoptive son: her precious boy, her marshmallow, her little angel who always has a reasoning for his every obtuse action in her eyes. same with mello, M’s working round the clock to give him the best life a kid like him can have.

GEVANNI, little-brother-figure: sees him once a year at christmas but it’s like no time has passed every single year. first kid she connected with after becoming a caregiver at wammy’s at 18. but really was more like his stern older sister than somebody responsible for his wellbeing ( he was already a late teen when they met. . . wammy’s really wasn’t given the time to undo all the shit he went through beforehand )

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ the way i depicted the japanese cedar doesn’t really have branches or ‘ leaves ‘ like the others- - but each little flowery looking thing represents somebody from her past or another relationship she has that isn’t depicted. . .

➡️➡️ her and roger’s connection isn’t nearly as strong as L’s and watari’s, and the three flowers on her end / three leaves on his represents a ‘ three chances ‘ mentality with his behavior.

➡️➡️ her and gevanni’s connection line is weak and nontouching due to the sheer distance between them. as gevanni kicked bricks and moved to the U.S.A. basically the second after he turned 18. still, it’s there, they still care about eachother.

⌛️ AKUMI HATO

japanese ( japanese cedar )

KINSHU, lover: she had a thing for ghostly men who say cryptic shit. and that’s exactly the type of man kinshu was. her love for him ran hot. really, the world wasn’t ready for this kind of lover. and really, her entire world shattered into a million little pieces when he died. . .

M, biological daughter: oh her precious girl, she knows M was going to go on to do great things. and do very very well for herself. after all, she is her daughter, it’s practically fated she’ll take the world by storm.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ every dead flower was a family member akumi had that didn’t take M in after she died. fortunately, as akumi doesn’t like her other family anyhow!

🕊️ KINSHU MIYAKE

japanese ( japanese cedar )

AKUMI, lover: he would do anything for her, he’s kiss the dirty ground she walks on. he’d rob every bank, he’d capture two of every animal, a true yearner.

M, biological daughter: the little ruler of his life in the making. he couldn’t wait to meet her, no doubt he was never more excited for something in his life. . . shame he never got to meet her, but he wouldn’t take back what he sacrificed to keep her safe.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ like akumi, each dead flower is a relative that didn’t take M in. which he would also be glad about, as he hated his family also. . . too loud- - too stupid- - too barbaric.

🫚 ROGER RUVIE

european ( english oak )

WATARI, life-long friend / father-in-law-figure: what would life be without his best bud in it? literally have been friends since roger can remember. and has basically just followed watari’s close footsteps wherever he went. ‘ you want to open an orphanage in the rubble of ww2? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want me to work there and generally help / care for the children? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want to change the mission of the orphanage to give care to the most misfortunate kids in the world? okay! ‘ , ‘ you want to retire and leave this place full of deeply troubled children in my care because you trust me and believe i enjoy this line of work? okay! ‘. roger knows damn well he doesn’t like kids. . . but watari doesn’t gotta know that.

M, daughter-figure: she was so easy to handle when she was younger. why is she so difficult now??? why are her children. . . the way that they are. . .? roger can’t believe the girl he once knew happily spends her days wrangling these two little goblins. . . and why are they not biting her but keep trying to bite me??

L, son-in-law-figure: ‘ oh L, watari’s pride and joy. you’re probably why your children are so weird. ‘

NEAR & MELLO, grandchildren-figure: ‘ why won’t you hug me but will hug watari? ‘

GEVANNI, family-friend-figure: ‘ hey you! i remember you! you were a real piece of work back then! haha! ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ roger still has a lot of leaves on his wreath to signify he has a lot more life to live.

➡️➡️ same rules as watari’s, the little branches of his connecting line resemble children roger has had a similar relationship than what he has with M. but none of them have gone on as well / long as with M. >> the branches off his connection line to watari represents friends in similar vein. and both connectinng lines have leaves to symbolize the strength in them.

🌥️ ‘ NEAR ‘ RIVER MIYAKE-LAWLIET

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar ), ghanian ( cocoa tree ) , thai ( golden shower tree )

M, biological mother: oh, so this is where she got her brashness and attitude. near is glad this trait passed down, a lot less people try to tread on her when she’s got generational venom.

➡️➡️ near, whether she aware of it or not, puts a solid effort into what M says and asks of her. when often the words of others are sent into the shredder of near’s mind. this is because she loves this woman, that’s her momma, one of her only friends.

L, biological father: oh this is her idol right now! her own father has checked off every box on deserving near’s respect and admiration with flying colors! she wants to be just like him! she wants to do what he does and how he does it! she wants to be the next L!

MELLO, adoptive brother: she thinks he’s interesting, and looks up to him in her own unique way. he doesn’t know that though, and she ain’t gonna tell him.

➡️➡️ near enjoys shadowing mello’s activities, not very much so participating, but spectating. the cause and effect of what he does fascinates her.

WATARI, adoptive grandfather: ‘ yay the toy guy, thank you for the toy. yeah your gifts put me at ease enough that we can hug for a solid three seconds. ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, you say nothing of value. don’t whine about it either, it’s your fault you are the way you are. ‘

GEVANNI, family-friend-figure: she thinks he’s very much so cool as fuck. he’s literally the alternative older cousin with the kickass car and laid back attitude. who, just like her, has interests outside of what would be deemed normal for who he is. . . basically, he’s everything she wishes she could be. but won’t be, because her brain just isn’t built to compute like his.

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ not much to go off of because she’s just a teensy thing. . . but under the flags is the very first flower, pointed at gevanni. meant to symbolize the importance of their relationship to her that will last years to come.

🍫 MIHAEL ‘ MELLO ‘ LAWLIET

croatian ( slovanian oak ) , european ( english oak )

M, adoptive mother: his confidant, his protector. didn’t give up on him when everyone else did. he’s too little and damaged to really express that he’s grateful for her, but one day he will. for now, his continuous reliance on her will just have to be proof enough that he trusts her.

L, adoptive father: oh this guy is cool. . . THIS GUY IS FAMOUS!! mello wants to be the next L right now, but as a better and brighter successor, he wants to be the BEST! and he’ll do whatever it takes to win L’s affection and ensure this future is his!

NEAR, adoptive sister: ‘ augh! don’t you see i’m trying to become my own person? damnit! stop following me around!!! “ “ . . . oh no wait, don’t go, watch this totally epic prank i’m about to pull you’ve love it! “

LILLIE, biological aunt: heaven has to be real because his aunt really deserves it. he misses her the absolute most. . .

WATARI, adoptive grandfather: ‘ yay the guy that gives me chocolate even after i’ve been cut off for the day. sure i’ll let you hug me because of these positive experiences we’ve had. don’t expect a hug back though, i’m not a pansy. ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ M & L said i can bite you if you try to force me into a hug again. but i’m just gonna do it right now anyways because i don’t like the look on your face. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ his wreath is growing little acorns to signify his growth since entering the family. that’s why there are so many around the knot that connects him to near, M & L.

➡️➡️ the connecting line to him and his aunt is force cut, but still there, and still strong. he already has two branches trying to grow towards her.

➡️➡️ the little branches jabbing into near’s wreath symbolizes how they don’t always get along that well. and they’re growing from mello’s side despite their spats being a two person effort because near’s very good at manipulating situations into looking like she’s just an unfortunate passerby. especially with mello who is still dealing with lots and lots of big emotions. . .

➡️➡️ two of the little acorns growing represents matt but i ain’t gonna tell you which:3c

📿 LILLIE KEEHL

croatian ( slovanian oak )

MELLO, biological nephew: oh her little buddy, it should’ve just been him and her from the very start. lillie’s every rotty little fiber is tensed not knowing if he’s safe from her horrid sister and wretched brother-in-law. . .

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ what you should expect at this point. no leaves because she’s dead, branches symbolize family not shown. her branches reach in mello’s direction always.

💰STEPHEN ‘ GEVANNI ‘ LOUD

european ( english oak ) , japanese ( japanese cedar )

M, big-sister-figure: gevanni once rejected M’s proposal of joining the family. as he didn’t want family holding him back. still, despite his efforts to stay hidden in the darkest little crevices of the world, M manages to get him an invitation for christmas dinner every year. and he RSVP’s every single time.

L, brother-in-law-figure: ‘ god you’re strange. . . i can see why M likes you. ‘

NEAR & MELLO, niece-&-nephew-figure: ‘ hey kids, wanna hear about the time i broke into this super big important museum and stole a statue bust worth millions??? oh, just near? fine by me-! ‘

ROGER, grandfather-figure: ‘ every family’s gotta have a guy like you around, roger, it just ain’t the full experience without the weird grandpa. ‘

WATARI, grandfather-figure: ‘ you may be responsible for leaving roger in charge of wammy’s, and that might have been a crazy decision, but god do you make a good strawberry shortcake. ‘

BRANCHES & LEAVES SIGNIFICANCE:

➡️➡️ each little leafy tendril is a connection gevanni has. BUT NOT FAMILY! he doesn’t have any of that. . . he’s a lone wolf. . . an alpha male, if you will.

➡️➡️ still, the connection to M is there, and he is developing a strong connection with near, slowly.

🌳 yay, thank god, i’m done. this is so long, but i love it. and just like most asks i take every single chsnce to yap too much. . . but now you know about L’s entire family dynamics!! so yayy!!!!!

THESE are just little memories. . . L coming to wammy’s house, he and M’s first kiss, & that time he caught M crying and tried to comfort her despite being right shit at it. it’s the thought that counts, y’know <3

[capseycartwright]

inspired by that social media trend about taking your younger self for coffee. am feeling existential what can i say.

i met the younger version of myself for coffee, today. she was twenty minutes early, i was ten - some things never change, though i reassure her that her own time matters too, and she doesn’t always need to be so anxious about being left behind if she doesn’t get somewhere on time. the people who love her will wait, an extra five minutes.

she orders a flat white - i do, too. some things never change, though i try more new things now. i’ve recently gotten into matcha, i explain, and she furrows her brow in confusion, and i get it, really - coffee makes her feel more grown up in a world of adulthood she doesn’t feel ready to be a part of yet. it still does, in lots of ways, but she likes matcha now too.

i watch, as she picks at the skin around her fingernails and pinches the delicate skin of her wrist, an anxious tick that leaves cuts and bruises that take days and weeks to heal. you learn how to not do that, i promise, her head ducked with embarrassment as she tries to hide the fact she’s made her fingers bleed. you figure out better ways to cope.

she tells me about the boy she has a crush on - I don’t have the heart to tell her that he doesn’t feel the same, that he’ll only ever be a friend. that he’ll tell her he loves her, as a friend, in a crowded nightclub, and she’ll learn that sometimes people love you but don’t want you back. she sees the claddagh ring on my finger and frowns, at the direction it sits - she knows what it means. you’re single, still? she asks, and i nod - yeah, you are, and it’s okay, really, it is. i want to tell her that she does fall in love and she loses it and somehow it’s still one of her fondest memories, but i don’t want to spoil the experience of living it for the first time. i don’t want her to know how much it hurt, when it was over. instead, i reassure her she’ll turn the ring one day for the right person. we know who we’re looking for now. there’s peace in that, too.

she names her closest friends. i tell her they’re all doing so well - that years and distance and life pulled in different directions hasn’t changed the love she has for them. i tell her there’s new faces in her story too - friends from a year abroad that changes her life, friends from the place where she builds a life all on her own. i promise her she’s got a future filled with love, platonic, beautiful, magnificent love, the kind that always answers the phone when she calls, crying because the world feels so overwhelmingly lonely.

you’ll feel lonely sometimes still - but everyone does. i promise her she learns to find peace in the quiet of her life, and i don’t tell her much more. i want her to learn it for herself. there’s also some things i can’t bear to tell her - how bad, it’ll get, how she’ll lose one of the most important people in her life, not to death, no, but to disinterest, and how that feels worse, sometimes, because they chose to leave. i can’t bear to tell her that there’s times she’ll wonder if the cavernous ache in her chest is simply a part of her being, a pain no medicine can fix.

i don’t tell her any of that. instead, i tell her about her flatmates - the place she calls home and the girls she’s made a home with. i tell her she’s a really good cook, now, and that food is easier, now - fun, even - and she still reads at least one book a week and she’s got people to share her recommendations with. i explain she has a job that gives her such purpose and drive in life - and it’s not quite what she expected but it’s better, and it’s brilliant, and it changed her life when she took a chance on the interview all those years ago. i tell her she falls in love with writing, again, and she doesn’t lose that love this time. i tell her she’s got enough money to spend on all the makeup and skincare she wants and she does - she definitely does.

you’re almost 30, now, she points out, and i nod. aren’t you scared? she asks, still pulling at the sore, tender skin of her fingers. i wish i could reach out and get her to stop.

no, i promise. I’m not scared. i’ve built a good life - a good career. i ticked off the goals she’d shakily written on a list as she tried to figure out a path in life when she started at university. i don’t have a new list now - i’m taking it as it comes. that terrifies her, i know, but i think it amazes her, too, to know that with age comes confidence, a sense of calm - she needs that. i’m excited to grow older. she didn’t always want to.

she’s slow to drink her coffee - i am, too. we had lots to discuss and plenty i didn’t tell her. she’s got some of the best years of her life to come - and the worst, too - but there’s light at the end of the tunnel and not much left in the end of our coffee cups.

she shuffles awkwardly, as we move to leave. you’re happy? she asks.

i am, i promise. it just looks different than how you imagine it right now.

her shoulders are hunched, as she walks away, nearly 20 years old and uncomfortable in her own skin, desperate to hide, to make herself invisible. i’ll see her again, i know - in another 10 years, maybe, and she’ll be different then too, but she’ll still order a flat white and life will still be as beautiful as it is painful but she’ll learn to live in the light, most of the time.

i love her, in ways she doesn’t love herself yet - but she will. i hope i get to take her for coffee again soon.

[avocado-writing]

HIII!! :3 I'm back again with another love at first sight/first meeting request lol, so could you pretty please write one with slick, lumber, Porter, and Hydra but maybe the reader is a new freight train joining the yard? ((Whatever kind of freight you want!))

- :3!!

yes ofc my love! I hope I characterised them ok, shamefully I don’t know loads about the freighters 🙈 still open for stex x reader requests!

Porter goes bright red to match the rest of him when he sees you for the first time! Because you’re together in the yard a lot, he does his best to play it cool around you and seem really deep and interesting; suddenly always has a book in his hand (something he’s never done before?) and then running into you… “oh sorry I didn’t see you there… I was too busy reading…” “but Porter that book is upside down?” “uh. Yeah, I like it better that way.” Eventually you tell him he doesn’t have to pretend, you like him as he is!

Lumber is kinda the opposite? Trying to show off with an intensity that is a bit worrying. “Wanna see how much timber I can carry at once?” “I can go soooo fast, watch!” “I can haul that for you, don’t even worry about it!” One day he gets hurt from trying too hard, and you rush him to get fixed up. During the time he’s getting some minor welding work done, you hold his hand the whole time and gently tell him you already find him impressive and like him a whole lot. He’s got a silly love struck look on his face for ages after…

Slick tries to play it cool. So cool, in fact, you think she doesn’t like you - she never wants to be hooked up with you when you’re going on a freight run (but that’s because she’s worried she’d end up blabbering and embarrassing herself!) You’re pretty sad about it because you think she’s fun and interesting, and one day you start crying when she says something she thinks is smooth but is just a bit blunt and mean. She immediately freaks out and goes to comfort you and the two of you confess your feelings for each other, all cards on the table - from that moment on nobody upsets you or they might end up crashing…

Hydra is the most forward one. Why should he be less than direct with how he feels? Always asks to go on journeys with you and is constantly at your side in the freight yard. The two of you are practically joined at the hip. You never officially confirm you’re dating but it’s pretty apparent to everyone who even looks at you that you’re both soulmates. Where one of you is, the other isn’t far behind, smiling and hooked on every work they say.

[ladybobofdoom]

Wow this is really uncanny. I‘ve went into this series with no expectations and I immediately shipped Li Rong and Su Ronghua from the go, not being much impressed for Pei Wenxuan; to an extend where I got the male chars confused right after the switch.

I was very sick while watching and read the subs a little dizzy. So, upon meeting them all in the past I got confused as to why she is unkind to her current lover at time of her death, when they all meet in the garden.

Here is what happend in my head: I assumed the narrative would focus on Su Ronghua and the protag finding back to eachother. I had to rewatch parts of EP2. I had to sit back and wrap my head around the fact that the main couple are the princess and her at that point as abusive portrait husband. Still, I made my peace with the main couple because the series is generally well written, with great female characters.

Also, like op sais, they string my boy Su Ronghua around like he is the secondary love interest with a genuine chance for whom I keep rooting. Dude got his balls cut off and his whole family killed and then dedicated his whole life to the protag. I mean how (on a narrative romantic hero level) could Pei Wenxuan even compete with such a compelling storry?? Having the impossible choice of rescuing his whole family or being with the women he loves and who loves him back? Chosing between power and love?? Li Rong (for me at that moment) wished with her last words to have a chance of spending her life with Su Ronghua; who obviously rememberes too.

I mean how can Pei Wenxuan even remotely compete with that, when his narrative is literally, gotta be nicer to me wife (which at EP9, where I‘m at, it‘s not really explained why he was’t nicer!!?). Plus, EP1 is even framed like he is the villain. There is never any indication of Su Ronghua and Li Rong having platonic love instead of romantic. Even if they don‘t clearify dude got his balls or whole cock‘n‘balls cut off. They still can have a meaningfull romantic and sexual relationship? Is it just implied because of his lack of genitals the relationship would be platonic?!? On an erotic level, giving them the chance to also have penetrative sex now, when they couldn’t before, holds such potential, too!

So, then I get to the wedding scene. When my boy is forced to hand the love of his life off to a man who in some form or another abused her in their last life. Baby gets shit faced to manage is how devastated he is. And I see this, and think. This is it. This is the single most cruel thing Pei Wenxuan could have done, even foreshadowing it with a ‚got a surpriiiise’. This has to be the tragic moment, where donno history repeats itself because this was a cruel thing to do on their wedding day; but he wanted to get rid of my boy for good that way. And protag MUST be so angry!! But then she is framed as happy and unbothered. And I think… wait a minute.

Which is when I wound this post. And I feel like what? (You may return to the beginning of the post. Just kidding. Nobody is reading this.)

I accidentally build a better narrative, what can I say? Not sure if I‘ll keep watching, honestly. They did my accidental head cannon baby dirty.

"But I have my reasons."

"So does every other sinner in the world."

It's been quite obvious from the drama for a while now that the Princess Royal screenwriter feels pity for Su Rongqing and considers him a tragic figure. I recall being asked early on if I thought the writers are trying to redeem him. And I said no, not exactly. And I still stand by that!

They didn't give him any out or excuse for his hand in the bloody end of their original timeline: the dirty secrets reveal scene does not soften his actions in any way or reduce Li Rong's disgust. Ronghua still rejects his grand-standing words and his refusal to see that the noble class can't continue like this. He gets his chance to tell his perception of past events but Pei Wenxuan also gets a chance to share competing observations. Li Rong and Su Rongqing still get their philosophical face-off in the throne room. No one is completely wrong or right. There were no heroes in the original timeline.

"Let's not deceive ourselves or others anymore. I understand your stubbornness. Your heart is with the light, yet you dwell in darkness. You refuse to acknowledge your identity, so you can only disort the truth."

We see Li Rong and his brother reach out a hand to him many times, telling him he can still turn back. Li Rong was never in love with him romantically but he accompanied her for years during a dark period for both of them; she's not a heartless person (that's the whole point!), so ofc she would take his hand and pull him back from the edge if he was just willing to grab it. She wants to reach him: that's what the whole throne room scene is about. But she cannot. His last moments in the drama have both Pei Wenxuan and Li Rong calling out to him.

He may be a poisonous snake, but he doesn't have to bite the frog when crossing the river.

He is given chances but he doesn't take him. That's why he's tragic: Because he is right about this ONE THING (Li Chuan isn't suited to be emperor), feeling desperately certain about it while it seems no one else understands the stakes and his heroic mission. But he's wrong about everything else.

This is a story about time travel and what if you could re-do your youth: better support a troubled sibling, stand up to toxic family, fix your marriage, widen your perspective... And Su Rongqing misses all his opportunities because he's not taking his chance to better connect with others, not using the wisdom of all those extra years to better understand the populace and the people around him, and handle his life & relationships with more grace. He just narrow-mindly focuses on the mission - he can't reset, can't let go of the past life and the current system.

So many other people in this tale have been shifted: Shangguan Ya, Su Ronghua, Li Chuan, Qin Zhen Zhen, even the fail emperor has a revelation about how crap he is.

His inflexibility and inability to seize the opportunity of a do-over in life and be a new Su Rongqing acts as a contrast to measure how much Li Rong and Pei Wenxuan have been growing & changing. And it shows us why they triumph and why they deserve their happy ending.

Tragic doesn't mean innocent. It doesn't mean he didn't have a hand in his own downfall.

I know not all readers found him compelling in the text, but I did think he was a neat character and tbh I think the novel would be diminished without him. I can see what the screenwriter was trying to do with him - all that dramatic music is his POV. We get glimpses of the good times & his good intentions that contrast with his failure to live up any of it. He's given narrative importance as their foil and the writers wanted him to be a full fledged 3rd time-traveler character that the audience is interested in (hoping, like Li Rong & his brother do, that he can be saved). The promise is there in the essential character, I can see it in the text. But in the drama they failed to create investment from the audience in the right way.

imo a big misstep is that the framing early on made viewers feel he was intended to be a valid love interest. In the drama, his romantic interest in her is overt while in the novel it was ambiguous for the first 60% of the story. Writers even added a couple moments that felt OOC where we are in his head and it seems like he is actually intending to win her back romantically (which is contradicted by his novel-compliant speech in ep 34 about how he knows they can't be together because as her betrayer he doesn't deserve it.)(now I'm curious to rewatch them, I am really wondering if it was intended to be a slight of hand where he is meaning her return/freedom/rise to power/the life he owes her and the audience is intended to misread as him saying he will become her bf again 🤔🤔) Regardless, in a romance narrative, this will make many viewers reflexively dislike him, protectively wanting him away from their otp. He is perceived as a real suitor who has a chance -- which hits different to a shipper.

The execution was flawed. I do think that casting a magnetic actor who can portray bottled up emotion & inner turmoil, such as Zhang Wanyi, would have made a big difference in mitigating the earlier mis-cues. But on the other hand, I'm fairly satisfied with his character handling from ep 30-40.

[mellow-plum]

"Dear Eliza, this is something I should have said a long time ago. I love you."

Miss Scarlet and The Duke (2020-)