#anyways that's how life's been going this week

[communistkenobi]

A newborn baby girl will have to go through life with the wrong sex on her birth certificate after a registrar’s error, which her parents have been told they cannot change. Grace Bingham and her partner, Ewan Murray, were excited to register their first child at the Sutton-in-Ashfield Registration Office in Nottinghamshire last week. But, after nights of broken sleep, they failed to notice the registrar had written the wrong sex on the birth certificate until after it had been submitted. “We were horrified but assumed that, as we saw the mistake just a few seconds after it had happened, correcting it would be an easy matter,” said Murray. “But although the registrar apologised for her mistake – and the area manager also apologised – it turns out that birth certificates can’t be changed.”

this article is interesting because it demonstrates that cis people can very easily apply structural thinking to sex assignment - this couple immediately identifies that their daughter, having mistakenly been assigned male at birth by the registrar, will have administrative problems in employment, education, travel, and so on. they pretty adeptly identify the foundational role that sex assignment plays in the administrative and civil functions of a state, and how incorrect sex markers effectively produce a ‘rational’ reason for discrimination within these administrative and civil arenas:

The General Register Office (GRO), which is responsible for administering all civil registration in England and Wales, and the Home Office have both confirmed that Lilah’s birth certificate cannot be reissued, although an amendment can be made in the margin of the original document. But Bingham said this is not enough. “People reading a birth certificate might easily miss a tiny note in the margin – which means that Lilah could be regarded as male when she applies for school, her passport, for jobs – for everything that she needs a full birth certificate for.”

And given that this was published in The Guardian, this article makes zero mention as to why it’s impossible for this couple to receive an updated birth certificate with correct information (something the author notes was possible to do a year ago), but the reason is obviously transphobia. 

Now one might ask why there’s no exception for cis people whose birth certificates were recorded incorrectly at birth, but this reveals the instability of cissexualism. How would you determine who is a cis person with a mistaken birth certificate, versus a trans person who wants to change their mistaken sex assignment record? Sure, you could say well, this is an infant, of course she’s “really” “biologically” female (something the parents argue in the article as grounds for having their child’s birth certificate re-issued), but 1) that certainly can’t be argued for in all cases, 2) 'biological sex' is understood by medical doctors as alterable through hormones and surgery, which trans people are often required to undergo in order to change their records, and 3) binary sex assignment is already imprecise and discretionary, particularly if infants have sex characteristics that don’t conform to binary F/M assignment standards (which is part of how the category of intersex emerges, framing this failure to conform to state census categories as a biological defect - and in fact, many intersex people do not discover they are intersex until the onset of puberty or later, at which point they are even less in luck if they want to change their sex assignment - and if they don’t, if they are cis but have sex characteristics that do not conform to cis standards, they will be discriminated against anyway). 

Even setting aside the issue of transgender and intersex people for a moment, states fuck up all the time in administration! you've probably either experienced this directly or know someone who's had some kind of record fucked up by the government at some point in their life. If you get married they could fuck up changing your last name, fuck up your disability status, record your social insurance number wrong, print the wrong address on your driver’s license, fail to acknowledge you as a dependent when filing taxes, incorrectly mark you as having graduated when you’re still a student, fuck up your immigration paperwork, record your name wrong during immigration, etc etc into infinity, and this is not even getting into errors that occur when different levels of government pass information between one another. This level of administrative rigidity is purely to punish people who fail to perform cissexualism correctly, and in the case of this couple's child, the administrative error of the state is imputed to them as a personal failure that she and her parents will now have to deal with for the rest of their lives. 

I think the ultimate analysis is not that transphobia will become less precise and hit more "wrong" targets as it expands its reach, but that this is the exact same operational logic as all other liberal state measures - if you encounter a systemic issue, it’s your fault for not avoiding it, fuck you, go away. You’re poor because you’re lazy, you’re unhoused because you’re lazy, you’re disabled because you’re lazy, and your daughter is now administratively transsexual because you’re lazy. In this case, we don’t even need to assume the intentions of the state - they outright say it:

The family complained to the GRO but was told the mistake was their responsibility and could not be fully rectified. “The duty to ensure that information recorded in any particular entry is true is the responsibility of the person providing the information and not of the registrar general or the registrar recording the birth,” the GRO said.

[giannaln4]

Sorry Won't Fix This

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)

warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N

a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!

Check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right. 

Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to. 

Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.

Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it. 

“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”

“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you. 

But it kept happening, a few more times.

Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.

Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.

He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, ​​and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.

But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.

“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.

“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.

“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”

Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”

“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”

You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”

The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.

You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this. 

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.

You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.

“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Lando.” 

“What about Lando?”

“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”

“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”

“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.

“What? Have you guys been fighting?”

You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”

"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”

You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”

“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”

“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“Right now?”

“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”

“I don’t know Mia-”

“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”

You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”

“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”

You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.

Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” 

You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”

You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”

“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”

“But why would you want to do that?”

“To keep you company, maybe?” 

“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”

“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”

“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.

You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”

“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”

You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”

“You know, we do everything together and-”

“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.

He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”

You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.

Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.

He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”

“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway. 

“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”

You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.

You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.

The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.

A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.

It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.

You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.

Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.

You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.

Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]

Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.

That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.

Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.

You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?

It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.

You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.

Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.

The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, sorry.” 

You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”

“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”

You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”

“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe I did-”

“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”

You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”

Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”

Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?

A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.

Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment

Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.

It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.

"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.

“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”

“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”

Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry. 

“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”

“Did you really just ask that?”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?” 

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”

“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”

Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”

“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.

“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?

“Baby, I can explain.” 

You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”

A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be. 

“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it.”

“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”

“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”

“Let me explain-”

“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”

"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”

“That was before you ruined everything.”

“I know what i did is wrong-”

“Wrong?”

“But we can work this out.”

“What? No, Lando, stop.”

“Just give me another chance, please.”

“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Just stop… god.”

“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”

“But you came all the way here.”

“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”

“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.

"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”

“But I don’t want it to end.”

“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”

He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to  me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”

“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”

“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”

“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”

“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”

“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”

“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him. 

“Lando, stop that.”

“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“No, it’s not gonna work.”

“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.

“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.” 

You nodded weakly as you started crying again.

“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”

“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.

“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”

Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.

“How long?”

You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”

“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.

“It was one moment of weakness.”

“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”

“I’m sorry.”

You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”

Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”

“Then why did you do that?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.

“Do you love her?”

“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”

“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”

“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.

“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”

“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying. 

“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”

“Save it, Lando, it’s over.” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”

You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”

“I know, my love, but-”

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.

He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

[reiding-writing]

could you pretty please write something where spencer visits unsub!reader and she’s incredibly beat up and only responding in slurs and spencer’s like wtf why has no one taken her to the doctor

THE GUARDS’ HEAVY HANDS

spencer & gn!unsub!reader | 1.3k | unsub!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— unsub!reader is in remission babyyy

WARNINGS | reader has been on the receiving end of physical violence from prison guards without medical treatment.

Four days until the board of appeals made their decision.

Four days until you would know if you truly were going to spend the rest of your life inside a concrete box or be moved to a psychiatric facility and have your psychology picked and prodded at by doctors.

You’ve been ‘visited’ almost every day over the last week, half of your singular recreational hour spent talking to some stupid appeal board official every day for the last multiple days.

You were sick of it.

You knew that they were only bothering you in the hope you’d crack, that you’d say something that could condemn you to your solitary hell and save them the effort and money in placing you in proper psychiatric care.

But you refused to placate them. You refused to let your seething frustration manifest verbally or physically, no matter how much you wanted to.

Four days. That’s all you had to last.

They weren’t making it easy though. Of course they weren’t. Because why would anything in your life ever be easy?

No. Instead you were questioned on the same mundane topics over and over by the officials, dragged harshly from meeting to meeting by the guards, and subjected to torment whenever there was a minuscule break in the monotony.

Your most recent ‘accident’ involved one of the guards shutting the food hatch whilst you still had your hand in it.

‘Accident’, because it definitely wasn’t one, and now you were dealing with a fractured index finger on top of all of the other shit that is making you want to rip your hair out.

Although you couldn’t do that either, considering you had a sizeable bruise spreading over your left temple and onto the side of your head after you’d been pushed straight into one of the phone boxes as an encouragement for you to pick it up.

It was bordering a black eye a few days ago, a mulled purple mark that stretched through your eyebrow and mottled your eyelid, but it was slowly turning green, and it’d stopped hurting now. For the most part anyway.

No use crying over spilt milk. Or a possible concussion.

There’s a sharp bang on your cell door from the side of a fist to garner your attention, along with the grating metal on metal sound as the food hatch slides open.

“Up you get freak, you’ve got a visitor.”

Another stupid visitor.

Another half an hour spend enduring the most relentlessly idiotic questions and torment of your life that you literally had to bite your tongue to stop yourself replying to and dumping all of your progress down the drain.

“Oi!” Another sharp bang. “Didn’t you hear me? Get your ass up!”

“I’m coming—” You bite back the groan that threatens to echo in your tone, muttering a curse under your breath as you’re all but dragged from your cell and thrust down the corridor into the visitor’s room.

Every minute you spent sat at that stupid concrete table in those stupid handcuffs that were way too tight made you want to rip your own hair out, or anyone’s in a five metre radius.

Four days. Then you could forget about this damn appeal and give your ‘handlers’ a piece of your goddamn mind.

And then the door opens.

“Doctor Reid,” You almost sound surprised as you pick up the visitor’s phone. “What brings you here?”

Spencer adjusted his satchel, his gaze fixed on the table where you sat, hands cuffed, a rough bruise blooming along your cheekbone. There was a fresh cut on your lip, a bit of dried blood near the corner of your mouth. The sight made his stomach twist.

He sat down slowly, his brow knitting with concern as he took in the other injuries: your knuckles scraped raw, the angry red welts visible just beneath the collar of your prison jumpsuit.

He was used to violence, certainly, but seeing it on you, someone he considered something close to a… friend, or whatever it was, made him tense with anger.

You didn’t look at him any differently despite it all. When he met your gaze, your expression was flat. Detached, indifferent. He could still tell you’d been through hell though, and as much as he hated it, he hated it. "What happened?" he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you just blinked, and then that small sliver of intrigue disappears from your irises to be replaced with distaste.

You scoffed, muttering something under your breath that he couldn’t quite make out. It sounded like you were slurring, words broken, as if the energy it took to have a full conversation was almost too much.

Spencer leaned his elbows onto the table, his heart hammering. "Did they hurt you?" he asked. "The guards… have they been—?"

You interrupted with a barely audible sneer, tossing out a curse that barely registered as coherent. A string of profanity. You spat them out, each word slower and more incoherent than the last.

"Is anyone taking care of you here? Any doctors?" Reid asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

You laughed, a hollow sound that sent chills down his spine. "Doctors," you scoffed. "Sure. Lots of those. Right after the love they give with their fists."

Spencer's jaw clenched. "Has anyone done anything about this? Filed a complaint?"

Another empty laugh. “Who’s going to report them, huh? Me?” you muttered, the words broken by gasps of pain. “And who’s gonna do anything about it?”

The part of Spencer that had learned to remain neutral, clinical, started to unravel. This was wrong. Whatever you had done in your past, this treatment wasn’t justice; it was plain cruelty.

He glanced back toward the door, contemplating the confrontation he wanted to have with the prison staff. But he knew what would happen—they’d brush it off, say you were exaggerating, a troublemaker who’d gotten what you deserved. And maybe they’d even be right… but he couldn’t ignore the bruises, the hollow look in your eyes.

Spencer reached across the table, his fingers brushing the cold plexiglass between you in what’s an almost subconscious want to wipe the blood stain from your mouth. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll try to get someone to check on you.”

You met his eyes again, expression clouded. He could see that behind the apathy, some tiny part of you was surprised. Maybe even grateful.

“Why do you even care?”

Spencer swallowed, the weight of the question settling over him. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. “But I do.”

You watched him in silence, as if searching his face for a reason, an answer he couldn’t give. Then, a flicker of something softened your gaze—just for a moment, like the smallest fracture in a stone wall. You’d probably deny it later, but he saw it. A spark of relief, of trust, maybe.

He didn’t know if he’d ever get through to you, not completely. But he could try. And that would be enough.

“So, uh,” Spencer fiddles with the phone cord between his fingers. “How are you feeling, about the appeal?”

And you deflate all over again.

[aniseandspearmint]

Oh, no PROBLEM, life happens, and I'm just glad you're doing better!

And it's never too late to pick fun things back up. I had to dig around for the notes i made for the next bit of this, and then re-read it over, because it HAS been a year! XD

SO, okay, a part 7!

YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.

Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.

The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.

He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.

Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)

Maedhros: *stares pointedly*

C&C: Err.

Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?

Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!

Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.

Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)

C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*

Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)

Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)

Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.

Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?

Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.

Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?

Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.

Curufin: *sputters*

Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.

Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*

Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.

Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.

C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*

Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.

Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.

Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.

He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!

Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.

Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!

Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.

Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.

Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.

He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)

Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.

Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.

Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?

Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!

When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.

Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.

Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.

Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.

Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.

Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?

Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.

Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.

Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.

Frodo: And me?

Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.

Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.

Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.

Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????

Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.

^__^

HEY.

I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?

Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.

Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.

Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.

Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.

Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.

Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.

There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;

Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?

Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*

The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.

Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?

It was SO much fun.

(hope you have a good day!)

Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.

The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"

The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)

The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while

Absolutely incredible.

...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

[dakota1435]

Moonlight – Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

word count: 3k

tags: new l&ds character!, mention of alcohol, mention of violence

previous chapters found here!: x

Chapter 7

You awake softly, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. You prop yourself up a bit, trying to come back to reality. The room turns with your vision, a dizzy spell stronger than you’ve ever felt. Quickly, you close your eyes. 

“Ugh…” You groaned quietly. 

 “How are you feeling?” Sylus voice was close to your ear, making you realize he was still next to you in bed. 

“Mhm… dizzy,” you said, noticing how dry your throat felt. Were you really this exhausted? The blood loss must’ve been too much these past two days. You feel Sylus shift around before he presses a cold glass of water against your arm. You smile at the gesture and take the glass before drinking the whole thing. 

“I…shouldn’t have taken from you so soon again,” Sylus said. It seemed like he was choosing his words carefully, slowly. “It’s hard to resist you, sweetie. You tempted me with your neck last night.” He brushed his cool fingers against your neck, tenderly. Your mind recalls every detail from last night, not to mention the ache your hips held. 

“It’s okay…” you spoke quietly. “I wanted you to,” you admitted. That much was obvious. Just recalling the overwhelming feeling of it all could turn you on again, if you weren’t so dizzy and exhausted. 

Over the next week ahead, Sylus is home more often. He doesn’t feed again, or touch you anything more than simple gestures. Although he didn’t show it, you were worried he thought he went too far during your last intimate moments together. But, maybe, he truly didn’t need to feed everyday. Or every other day. It was still difficult trying to figure him out. 

The same routine continued. You never realized how drastic it was no longer having a cellphone on you. But it gives you plenty of time to reflect and observe every detail around you. You started reading, given access to Sylus’ personal library. You asked the twins to get you a plain notebook, along with some writing pens. Since you were going to be here for the time being, it was better for your sanity to start documenting your new life. The twins might tell Sylus what you request, but that doesn’t mean he’ll find your personal journal tucked in a small, hidden space. At least, you hope so. 

…His stare is like ice, yet whenever he speaks it’s different. His words are smooth, honeyed, seductive. His touch sears into me, hot enough to make me melt. It’s hard to understand his true motives. Is this all so I can feel good? So I can forget the pain he inflicts upon his bite? Could there possibly be anything more than that? Between a human and a vampire…

You groan out loud as you hold your face in your hands. Even with writing your thoughts down, it still didn’t make any sense. What were you possibly hoping for, anyways? You close the notebook for now, tucking it back into its secret spot. A knock at your door snaps you out of your overwhelming thoughts.

“Miss? Boss wants to see you in the dining room,” said one of the twins. Luke, you assumed. He goes away without awaiting your response. You’ve learned it wasn’t unusual for Sylus to send someone to fetch you, rather than him coming himself. You sigh, combing your hands through your hair before leaving. The hallways were all familiar to you now, it didn’t feel like a maze anymore. You enter the dining room, noticing in the rare window the sun just went down. It was twilight now. Sylus stood, staring out that window. He doesn’t turn around at your arrival. 

“Come, sit.” He gestures to a large, leather chair next to him. Wordlessly, you go up to the chair and sit. You stare at Sylus, waiting for his next words. He seemed…tense. But it was hard to tell. He finally looks at you and speaks again. “The first time I brought you to an event, it ended up…unpleasant. It would be so easy if I could lock you up forever,” he chuckles darkly. You aren’t sure if he’s truly joking. “...But I need you to accompany me this time.” He looks at you, trying to gauge your response.

“Another…auction?” You asked. You were surprised he even thought about letting you outside after that incident. 

“No. This is much more important. I cannot risk leaving you here, unattended.” His tone was a bit stern. It left you puzzled.

“What? I’m…I’m not going to run, Sylus,” you stated, trying to make your point. He scoffed instead.

“I’m flattered,” he said flatly, “but that’s not what I meant. In a few days, there will be a gathering. A gathering of my kind.” He furrowed his brows a bit.

“Do you not want to go?” You asked cautiously. If he didn’t want you to pry, then that was fine, but clearly something was off. 

He sighs. “It’s significant that I arrive. I’m bringing you because I will not risk some idiot getting to you before I come back. Luke and Kieran will be away for a bit.” You muttered a small ‘oh’, understanding the picture now. To think he’s bringing his human into a den of vampires…is that truly the best idea? But then again, the thought of being alone and defenseless was bad enough. 

“Is it… truly okay I’m there with you?” You asked, feeling uncertain about your presence. Sylus pats your head once. 

“You think I would let anything happen to you? They won’t think twice about looking at you when they know you’re mine. Unfortunately for them, I don’t like sharing.” He walks over to a small desk, sorting through some papers. 

“Would I need to do anything specific?” You asked, trying to imagine what kind of event this could be. You wondered if other humans would be there, whether as a social thing or something worse. 

Sylus walks back over to you, his eyes locking onto yours. “Behave. But I’m sure that’s not a problem.” He smirked, his voice lighter. “It’s simply a formal event. I don’t expect too much. I’ll send some dresses over to you, in the meantime I have more work to catch up on.” With that, Sylus disappears to bury his head in more work. You really didn’t know how he managed it all. 

With ease, a few days pass by quickly. You didn’t hear from Sylus often, especially nothing more on the event. On the day of the event, you find a handful of boxes in your room just as he promised. You feel a tinge of excitement, eager to unbox your new dresses. You pull out a long, sleek satin dress. Its color was like a deep garnet with a lace pattern over the bust and lower waist. It was beautiful and you just had to try it on. You hurry to the bathroom and carefully slip it over yourself. This dress truly hugged your curves, but everything about it was perfect. A part of you worried it was showing off too much skin, but if Sylus didn’t think it was a problem then surely it was okay. 

“Do you like it?” Sylus’ deep voice was close to your ear. You continue to stare at the mirror, now looking at the both of you. Sylus’ eyes roamed over your body.

“Yes it’s…quite exquisite. Thank you,” you said kindly. You give him a soft smile. 

“It’s missing something though,” Sylus said, much to your surprise. Before you could ask, he places something cold around your neck. It was a victorian-style silver choker with a jewel that matched the color of your dress. Sylus clasps it together, before staring at your reflection. “There,” he said, sounding satisfied, “Now they’ll know who you belong to, kitten.” You flush a bit, but find yourself reassured. Sylus takes a step back, his eyes lingering on your back. “You seem tense, why?” Sylus’ question was straightforward. There was nothing you could hide from him. But out of the handful of things you could tell him, you picked one. 

“I’m nervous because I’m unsure what to expect,” you said truthfully. You could only think of so many outcomes of a vampire gathering. Sylus didn’t seem phased by your statement, though.

“Don’t worry, I plan to have you by my side the entire time.” Seems like that’s all you should know. You don’t inquire further, just accept whatever comes your way. You begin to prepare yourself, both mentally and physically. Adorned jewelry decorated on your body, along with the choker Sylus gave you. More like a collar in this situation, you realized. As you finish the final touches of your hair and makeup, you were ready to face it all. 

You both enter the same car you took on your last outing, sitting in the same seats. Once again, it felt absolutely refreshing to be outside again. The back courtyard could only do so much. Something about the air called to you, made you crave more. You unconsciously touch the jewel on your choker, it bringing you some form of comfort. After a long drive, the two of you finally arrive at your destination. It was a large mansion, much like Sylus’. Guests were walking in, some with partners and some without. They were all dressed fancy, exotic almost. 

“Come,” Sylus beckons. He extends his hand out to you, and you take it. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would have you by his side. You were practically glued to him. His arm around your waist was possessive, but protective. You tried to reassure yourself that you were safe in Sylus’ bubble. It was time to truly find out now. 

Upon entering the grand hallway you noticed others taking a step back from Sylus. Eyes trailing as you walk past. You weren’t stupid to not notice such a thing. Some whispered, others looked away entirely. You knew Sylus had immense power, but how much power could he possibly have? Still, you held your chin high. Your gaze never wavered. As you two enter a massive room, a couple people come to greet Sylus. 

“Sylus, sir, we’re grateful for your presence tonight. Who might—” The man addressing Sylus stops mid sentence upon looking at you. His expression is unreadable, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful for that. He suddenly snaps out of his concentration on you and bows. “My deepest apologies. Please, both of you, enjoy tonight to its fullest.” You were surprised to hear him apologize sincerely, not giving you another glance. You feel Sylus fingers touch your side a little deeper, unsure how to define it. 

“It’s quite alright. Thank you,” Sylus said, his words short. You both begin walking away from the man. You try and look up at Sylus, but he continues to stare straight ahead. You already had so many questions. A servant holding a tray of glasses pauses in front of you two, offering. Sylus grabs two glasses, each containing a deep, red liquid. You give him a puzzled look and he smirks in response. 

“What? It’s just wine,” he said, amused by your confusion. “We’re not only allowed to consume blood. We need it to survive though. If it makes you feel better, there are a handful of humans here too.” He takes a sip and licks his lips. The gesture makes you blush a bit. 

“Humans…like me?” You asked, hesitant to say the word ‘pet’. 

“Hmm…a few. But we do business with regular humans as well. You’d be surprised how involved we are in the world today,” he said. You stare back into your glass, trying to convince your brain you weren’t drinking blood. The scene laid out in front of you was beautiful, grand even. Guests were dressed up like royals, their beauty unique yet striking. Light music echoed around you, but you weren’t sure where it was coming from. Everyone chatted and laughed during the conversation, having the time of their lives. It put you at ease a little, to see this was quite a normal, fancy gathering. No blood baths, no rituals. You weren’t looked at like fresh meat, although you couldn’t help notice the awe in some people’s eyes as they tried to glance at you. 

“Sylus…how powerful are you?” You asked, sipping on the wine. It was good, you craved more. Sylus cocks an eyebrow, a bit surprised at your question. 

“And what brought this on?” He asked. 

“Well…I knew you were powerful. But since we’ve been in this place it’s like everyone regards you as a higher being…” You hope that came out right, not wanting to offend him. There was just so much you didn’t know about him. You hear him scoff, for better or for worse.

“I have fought my way to the top. It wasn’t easy…I have always been unlucky,” he admitted. You weren’t exactly expecting him to open up so easily. “I’ll take what’s mine. I made sure that everyone knows my name, that’s all.” A beat of silence made it clear he was done talking. So much for opening up, you thought. You wondered what he used to be like before this power but knew it was not a question to ask. Not now, anyways. “You will find out in due time,” Sylus added, a bit quieter. Before you could question what he meant, a different man approaches Sylus. He stares at you, surprise in his eyes .

“You found her?” The man said, almost to himself. But you still heard him, feeling confused at his question. Sylus clears his throat and the man diverts his attention. “Ah! Sorry, sir. I came to inform you that we found him. We are holding him in a room for now, awaiting your orders.” The man bows deeply, not looking Sylus in the eyes as he speaks. You look at Sylus, curious about the situation. 

Sylus sighs. “I didn’t think he would be found so soon. This changes things a bit.” He looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked…mad. 

“Who?” You blurted. Maybe you didn’t want to know. It sounded like dirty business he was dealing with. 

“We’ve been looking for…someone,” he said vaguely. “I didn’t expect him to be caught here. I have to take care of it now.” He clenches his jaw, clearly irritated. It suddenly clicked in your mind that he meant he might leave you. Alone. The man who approached Sylus was still waiting to guide him away. “You’re safe here, as long as you wear that choker. Stay here. Do not leave,” he commanded, his voice stern. “I will only be a minute. Be good.” He pats you on the head once, like a child. He begins following the man before you have a chance to respond. 

You watch Sylus as he turns down a hallway, now out of sight. You swallow, trying to ease your nerves. You drink the rest of your wine, trying not to meet eyes with anyone else in here. He said he would only be a minute…But from what you’ve learned when someone wrongs Sylus, he likes to take his time. Or so he claims. You were a little thankful he didn’t bring you for something like that, despite being completely alone. You fidget with the choker, your mind recalling the man’s words. Found her…had Sylus always looked for you? This newfound thought bounced off your head, anxiety starting to creep in. 

“Ugh…” You groan to yourself, staring at the empty glass. 

“Would you like more wine, miss?” A male voice asked behind you. You turn around, trying to make yourself seem small to this stranger. As you meet his face, your stomach sinks to the ground.

“....Caleb?” You whispered, almost afraid to say his name out loud. His eyes are wide, frantic, staring all over you. 

“Act natural,” he whispered, barely audible. Your heart was in your throat, you couldn’t believe it. Caleb, your childhood best friend. He was practically the only family you had…before you were taken. It’s been months now, since you last saw him. Why was he here? Why now? How did he know you were here? Questions flooded your mind, your throat tightening. You had no idea how to begin speaking. 

“Why?” You whispered back, trying to calm yourself. You weren’t sure who was looking. God, if Sylus knew, he would probably be angered. This wasn’t good, every second passing by was a second of Sylus returning. You felt nauseous. 

“Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you? That monster—I swear to God. I’m here to save you, I’m getting you out of here.” The weight of his words barely sank into you. You still didn’t understand how he knew you were here. At a vampire gathering, too!

“Caleb, you can’t– you can’t be here. Caleb this isn’t safe,” you tried telling him, but he wouldn’t listen. “How did you know I was here? Tell me.” His gaze softened as he looked at you. His eyes glance at the necklace and his expression becomes horrified. 

“I know who he is. I’m not letting him take you again. I don’t care if I die trying.” He grabs your wrist with force. It made you wince. You had to stop this, before Sylus came back.

Time was running out. 

“Caleb you need to leave!” You said urgently. Sweat formed on your brow. “I’m fine. He doesn’t hurt me! Please, leave, I’m okay!” You said, a little louder this time. He tugs you with him, causing you to stumble. A few people look over at you, whispering to each other. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as the panic becomes overwhelming. He tugs harder, trying to break you out of your stance. “Caleb please!” You beg through gritted teeth. Before he can say anything back, you feel a tall presence behind you. Your stomach churns, knowing Sylus has returned and is looking at Caleb. You don’t turn around as you watch Caleb drop your wrist, his face hardening with hatred.  “Well…you heard her,” he says, his voice deep and slow. He places both of his hands on each of your shoulders. “She said leave.”

[beelinx]

priorities

synopsis: osamu miya has always been a simple guy, prioritizing the same things all his life. but what happens when a new, unexpected person comes along, making his priorities change? warnings: rushed, probably ooc osamu bc i haven’t finished s4 yet </3 reader is referred to as girlfriend once! 1.6k words

osamu miya only ever had three things on his mind: food, volleyball, and his annoying twin brother.

he didn’t think much about anything, or anyone, else. he actually has a pretty straightforward routine, featuring all his main priorities.

wake up and eat a delicious breakfast

school (though he’s mostly thinking about what he’s having for lunch right now)

lunch with his friends and atsumu 

volleyball while his brother’s being annoying

snacking while drowning out atsumu’s voice

dinner, calmingly munching on his meal while his brother is still being annoying.

go to sleep, probably off to dream about food again

so yeah, osamu’s a pretty simple guy.

he didn’t get distracted easily, not that he’d be able to, anyway. if he lost focus during a match his brother would be sure to get his ass. which he already does, when osamu’s love for food occasionally gets the best of him.

for almost as long as he can remember, osamu’s had the same guiding priorities as always.

so, why was it that all his priorities were being messed up now?

why, instead of looking forward to lunch, he went to school looking forward to seeing your face?

why was he now zoning out during volleyball practice at the thought of you?

why was it that when you came along, he suddenly fell asleep dreaming of you, instead of his next meal?

he couldn’t understand why you were suddenly overcoming him. you, who he’d barely just met. how could someone he met not even a year ago be suddenly more important to him than everything he’s been prioritizing all his life?

he couldn’t figure it out.

he couldn’t figure you out.

you’re a year under him. you’re in the yearbook club, because, according to you, your friends wanted to all be in the same club together. that day, though, you had come alone. you said you were there to photograph the volleyball club, and you were nice to him, really nice. he couldn’t help but stare at you a little as you hurried around, trying to get the best pictures. 

that day, you briefly mentioned really liking onigiri, and that you were craving some at the moment. apparently, hearing say that was all it took to make him fall for you.

again, really simple guy.

ever since that day, when he first laid eyes on you, osamu’s never been able to stop looking for you everywhere he is. seeing your face was now the thing he looked forward to the most, with the highlight of his day being your satisfied little smile after taking a bite out of an onigiri.

his little crush was slowly becoming not so little anymore, with his teammates quickly catching onto the younger twin’s new and powerful infatuation. 

they’d tease him sometimes during practice, with his brother occasionally making snide remarks on how “his serves were off, probably because his daydreaming about his cute little girlfriend” causing osamu to roll his eyes and tell atsumu to “shut up” as he shoves a ball towards his face.

whenever he found the time to do so, osamu would stop by wherever you were. one of these days he gave you an onigiri he’d made himself, mumbling something about overhearing you say you like them. you told him it was the best onigiri you’ve ever had, so he started making them for you whenever he could.

you’d started eating lunch together at least once a week, and he really couldn’t help but stare at you while you munched on your meal. for some reason, he always thought you looked the most beautiful while you ate. especially if it was him that prepared it for you.

it’s not like he’s a coward or something, he wants to confess to you. he really does. but he can’t help but be scared about how it’s going to affect his life.

his three main priorities, all overshadowed by a new one. 

he wasn’t sure he was ready for that, so he waited. he waited, and waited, and waited. until one day, it all became too much for him.

he hadn’t planned it, hadn’t prepared for this except for all the countless nights imagining this moment. well, he hoped he’d be able to muster up some poetic words from those sleepless nights, instead of making this an incredibly awkward and disturbing experience for the both of you.

“hey ‘samu!” you greeted him. he felt himself blush merely at the sound or your voice. he silently cursed himself for how pathetic he was being. he handed you the onigiri he had brought along for you today, while avoiding all the eye contact he would to ensure you wouldn’t see him blushing furiously.

“wait, actually!” you said as you shoved your hand down your bag, slowly bringing out a container, “i brought you onigiri, too!” you quickly handed him the food, looking quite sheepish, “i wanted to switch things up a bit, but honestly i don’t think they’re as good as yours. still though, i wanted to do something for you! to thank you for being so sweet to me.”

you giggled softly as you handed him the packed goods. you kept talking, rambling on about your day or random things you’ve had on your mind. he didn’t reply to you, didn’t say or do anything but listen to your voice, not really processing what you were saying. he couldn’t exactly form coherent thoughts right now. he just stared silently at the meal, then at you, then back at the meal. he repeated this action thoughtlessly for a while. well, not really thoughtlessly, his mind was currently rushing with many thoughts, so many he couldn’t decipher any of them, except for the breathtaking image of your face..

suddenly, he felt overcome by courage and impulsively said, “be my girlfrien’?”

that seemed to stop your rambling on its track. you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words to reply, or maybe you were just too shocked to process what he’d just said.

“c-can you repeat that?” you stuttered, still too taken aback by his sudden confession.

osamu felt as if his heart was trying to race out of his chest at this very moment. he hitched his breath, opening his mouth as he prepared to repeat his question, to face your cruel rejection, when a loud voice suddenly boomed throughout the schoolyard.

“‘SAMUUUU!”

priority number three.

“yer’ running late for volleyball practice, ya idiot,” atsumu said, “hurry up or we’re makin’ ya do diving drills alone!” 

osamu seemed to cringe at his brother’s voice, silently cursing him for interrupting your conversation. he turned around to look at his brother, and when he looked back at you, he couldn’t help but feel as all the previous courage to confess quickly drifted out of his body. now, all he could do was silently pray you actually hadn't heard him correctly, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

“‘samu i-”

“i’ve gotta go,” he interrupted you before hearing your words of rejection. he turned around and walked off after his brother, turning back to look at you twice, both with an apologetic and awkward look on his face. 

you were left standing shellshocked, alone, in the middle of the schoolyard, wondering what the hell just happened. 

you debated the possibilities of having actually misheard him. maybe he was actually talking about his secret girlfriend, bea. or maybe he actually saw a bee. no, that seemed very unlikely. but, really, what were the chances of your long-time crush actually liking you back? highly improbable. you’d even go as far as to say it was impossible, if you hadn’t caught him staring at you for a second too long before. 

you weren’t about to confess to him, though. no way. you already felt incredibly lucky to have somehow managed to befriend osamu, destroying your friendship would kill you. you nervously nibbled on the onigiri you were currently holding, one he’d made for you today. your favorite flavor, too. it was sweet, how he remembered exactly how you felt about each flavor.

well, that thought made you even more anxious, as you had now started pacing around nervously, trying to decipher what you should do with your current situation.

meanwhile, osamu wasn’t having it much easier.

“jeez, ya really blew it out there, didn't cha?” his brother teased him.

“shut up,” he mumbled back in reply, “‘s not funny,”

“i think it is!” he laughed, “why didn’t ya ask her out sooner, though? i’m sure she woulda gone on a date with ya,” atsumu said. well, osamu doubted that, and he wasn’t exactly sure when his brother switched from being an asshole to actually trying to comfort him. though, osamu figured maybe he felt bad after being the one to interrupt. 

actually, scratch that. that doesn’t exactly sound like atsumu.

“‘m not sure about that,” osamu replied slowly.

“nah, i know it! she’s crazy for ya,” he said, as he put a hand on osamu’s shoulder and patted him comfortingly, “you’ll get it next time, just not durin’ practice time, yeah?”

then it seemed like the topic was immediately erased from his brother’s mind, because he then started rambling on about whatever it is happened to him, not adding a single word about what just happened. osamu only listened to him vaguely, occasionally nodding or humming in reply, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. mostly on whether or not his brother’s words rang true at all.

did you really like him back? well, he figured it wasn’t actually impossible, you do treat him differently as you do others. and you made onigiri for him today. you always laugh at his shitty jokes, too. and you said you thought his hair was cute once.

…yeah, maybe he should try confessing to you again.but he’d make sure to do it properly this time.

[everpresence]

I was wrong.

over the last few weeks, i started heavily questioning my beliefs.

i noticed that some of my desires came in faster than other desires. some of them (as you may see in my recent posts) took years to reflect, but some of them got reflected so fast at the speed of light.

i’ve been told by various people that there’s usually a time delay for desires to materialize in the 3D, and for some reason, it resonated with me. that’s why i mention it in my answers because i was merely basing it off of my own experiences with the law.

but something clicked for me recently. i watched a video by missy renee, about why people haven’t seen their manifestations for years. i’m just going to put it out there that you don’t need to pay for coaching. there are a lot of manifesting coaches that don’t know what they’re talking about, and when you read source, it’s a lot more telling. missy renee is not one of those coaches. she has read source and has even applied those teachings into her life. if i have to recommend a coach for you to watch, though, it would be her.

anyways, there was a line that she said that i immediately wrote down because it caused so much confusion in me. basically, she said that the reason why we have yet to see things come to pass is because we are still identifying with our old beliefs — our old story — and due to this, we become double-minded. this double-mindedness is then perceived as the “time delay.”

in that moment, i slowly leaned back in my chair. it was an “a-ha” moment for me, but it was also a little harrowing.

how long have i held myself back from just accepting that i am the person that i wanted to be? how long have i been limiting myself, telling myself the old story over and over again like a broken record? more importantly, i’ve been telling other people that there is such thing as a “time delay” because i decided that i should experience the delay.

so when i wrote a list and just allowed my higher self to figure it out, some of them came in so fucking fast at the speed of light. it stunned me. that’s when i realized that i was holding a false belief.

i never thought that i’d be writing an apology post, but here i am. i’m holding myself accountable because i was the one that wrote that there is such thing as a “time delay,” but in reality, there isn’t. sure, you don’t have to be pitch perfect with your beliefs, but when this desire has no conflict with your beliefs — when you have no resistance, when you aren’t arguing with yourself about whether you have it or not — then there’s no delay.

i remember some people said that it should not take more than thirty days, and i used to think that it’s bullshit, but now i can clearly see that there is a reason why they believe this. it’s not even about the length of time, but about how frequent you return to the state. it’s all about you accepting that the person you want to be is who you are now.

besides that, i want this post to be a reminder that everyone’s beliefs are constantly changing. there is always going to be expansion, growth, an inevitable withering of the old beliefs and the blossoming of new beliefs the more we learn about how this all works. this is why i want people to go back to reading source, to not always take everyone’s posts as “truth” or “the gospel” because we are all still learning in the end. learning never ends.

edit: i don't mean to say all this for you to start focusing on the physical reality as your primary reality. i still wholeheartedly believe that this is merely a reflection of your beliefs, and ultimately, it is all about who you are choosing to be right now despite what it looks like.

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 2: POTIONS/DEATH

CW: Suicide attempt, suicidal ideations, mental breakdown, ableism, DDDNE

This is the first thing Zam does when he realizes that everything he has done this season has been absolutely useless: he kills himself.

Okay, he tries: he abruptly turns away, throws off all his armor, takes a few springy steps, and then jumps down. The height is small, but he has ridiculously few hearts, so it's enough...

A moment before landing something breaks on top of his head, and the fall does not cause any damage. The nasty swamp slime gets into his mouth, and he spits it out, at the same time shaking off the glass stuck in his hair.

– What do you think is the probability that he has milk? – Pyro asks Spoke, tossing another splash bottle in his hand. Zam stares at him. How the fuck did he even hit? He is disgusting and wet. He has milk, but only in the enderchest, and he is not stupid enough to believe that he will be given time to drink it. Or that it would make any difference.

– I don't know, man, – Spoke spreads his hands, – like, high? Doesn't matter. Let's continue my supervillain speech. Time is not infinite, you know.

He doesn't want to continue the conversation. He pukes on the spot. He reeks of corpse rot. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be anywhere at all. Oh, God, can he just fucking die already?

Mapicc rolls his eyes. He looks annoyed, but not surprised. He and Spoke exchange understanding glances. Zam mechanically wipes his mouth from vomit, staring past them. There are too many things around. Everything is too bright and distinct. He wants to pierce through his belly with a sword, and he is horrified to realize that this will not help.

They- they don't even laugh at his insignificance and helplessness, they see it as an expected hindrance, as something that will happen when you tell the PrinceZam about the impending apocalypse. For some reason, it's so much worse. The vomit is creeping up in his throat again.

Step. Another. Third. This time he jumps into the void – because the Abyss kills anything, and even if not, suffocating in the infinity is still better than being next to them. That's the only thing he wants right now – to die.

He barely does not manage to reach y 0 when he is teleported back to their feet, and he falls to the knees. He violently coughs up bile. Deep disgust fills every cell of his body.

– Listen, – Mapicc says wearily, – let's skip this part. Yes, Spoke has backdoored the server, yes, he has an OP, and yes, no mundane plots have any meaning anymore. Wormhole will open in a week. Are you with us?

He lowers his head. His hands are shaking. He wants to wash himself. He wants to be anywhere else. He wants warm clothes and soft food. He wants to go home and bake a pumpkin pie. He wants to kill himself.

– Earth to the PrinceZam,– Spoke snaps fingers in front of his face, – bro, hang off. I need your answer. I'm only giving you a choice anyway because you're different. Be faster.

He opens his mouth and stutters and gasps. Nothing in his body works properly. For the first time in months, he can't say anything. Why-why at all. What's the difference. They can't make his life worse. They won't be able to mess up any more. They are not-

A blurry image with black and red appears in front of his face. Black hair. A pale face. A red hoodie. Bandana. Horns. Zam doesn't have to think about it to know that it's Mapicc.

– Listen, – Mapicc's voice comes to him as if from under water, - I know it's hard, – no, he has no idea, – and really, really sucks. but this is the situation we find ourselves in now. Right now, you don't have to do much, right now you just need to make one decision. Okay?

Something inhuman is bursting out of him. He's throwing up again. Mapicc sighs.

– Hey, – he says too calmly, – it's hard, I know. But not worse than the end of season two, right? – much, much worse, – just take a deep breath, exhale, give yourself time to think and make a decision, okay? And we'll leave you alone.

He can't. He can't. He is not-

– If I refuse, – he says, dead–straight, – will you let me die?

– No, of course not, – Spoke's voice comes from somewhere to the side, and he doesn't have enough strength to turn his head, – why did we try otherwise? Wait for the Wormhole, and I'll think about it. Maybe I'll give you endless effects, or maybe I'll let you die in peace. Who knows? I haven't decided yet.

– Don't listen to him, – Mapicc interrupts, irritated, – don't think about it. Just decide whether you want to destroy this world or fight for its preservation. If you want to keep it, the defenders will pick you up sooner or later. If you want to destroy it, you will become the third with me and Spoke. We will work together. Like before.

He's looking past them. His heart is beating too fast.

– if I join you, – he says dryly, – will you let me die?

– When you will finish your work? – Spoke giggles, – yeah, sure, why not. It wouldn't matter.

He swallows a lump. His throat hurts. Mapicc seems to be looking right at him. He's suffocating. He doesn't want any of this.

– Okay, – he says in the end, – I'll help you. And then you'll let me go.

Spoke grins.

– And that's the deal! Good job, PrinceZam. That's more like it.

At least Mapicc and I will be friends again, he thinks detachedly. At least there's anything good about it. Maybe I can get over it. Even if it's only to get the fuck out later.

[confusedlamp]

This is good advice, but I wish to share the very strange way that I mutually ended my first relationship when I was 19. We planned it. Literally.

Context: We had been dating about 3 years, two of which had been long distance with video chat on a nightly basis, so we were very close and spent a ton of time talking. It was also his first relationship.

Around November, we both came to the conclusion that we were not compatible in the long term as far as life goals went, plus we acknowledged we were young and should probably get the experience of dating other people. However, we very rarely fought - we debated a ton, but we usually were able to calmly talk out any actual problems. So we acknowledged we would not break up after a fight. The logical thing would be to break up right then. But, we enjoyed dating each other. It was fun! So we decided to put it off. But, we also knew that we didn't want to put it off forever: we needed to pick a time.

Right before the holidays didn't seem like a good idea. Plus, having a "new years kiss" is nice. Then, valentines day is fairly early in the year, and it would suck to be recently single during that. We did want to break up in person, so we pulled up our respective school schedules to see if our spring breaks overlapped, so we'd both be in town. They did! Okay, but we didn't want to not hang out during spring break, so we shouldn't break up until the end. But we also wanted have at least a day after before we had to go back to school.

We chose the second to last day of break, which would be in mid-March, which would be in 5 months.

Spring break came, we hung out. Did a bunch of the stuff we liked- board games, movies, sex, hikes, etc. The second to last day came, we hung out some more. Then, at around midnight, we unchecked the boxes on Facebook that said we were dating and I drove him home.

We did go a brief pre-agreed two week period of not talking, to let us adjust to not dating. And it was very awkward when we first started to interact afterwards. But it did work out and he remains one of my best friends a decade later.

I can't say I recommend this for anyone else. But I also don't regret breaking up this way? I very much enjoyed those last 5 months of us dating.

Anyways, that is how I had a break up, mutually planned 5 months in advance.

"The right time for a breakup is pretty much when you know you want or need to break up. There's never going to be a perfect time when you can be sure no one will feel hurt, or when the other person won't be angry or disappointed with you. If you're waiting for a perfect time, you're going to be waiting forever.

That said, be kind with your timing. Holidays or birthdays are awful times to break up with someone. Same goes for around big exams or competitions, or when a person is in the midst of a serious crisis outside the relationship, like a problem with their own health, a death in the family or another major crisis. Sometimes that timing is unavoidable, but when possible, a better tactic if you're feeling the breakup mojo coming on during those times is to ask for some space, or to focus on the friendship part of your relationship during those times, and then do a breakup after the holiday, stressful time or crisis has passed or calmed down.

Splitting up is something to ideally do in person, face to face. Texting or voice mail are great for reminding someone to pick up the milk or sending a cute note, but as ways to split up with someone, they're best to avoid if you can, since they usually feel pretty rough on the other end. If you're in a long-distance relationship where a face-to-face meeting is impossible for a long time, or could only happen at great cost to both people, choose to split with something like a long phone call or a tool like Skype where you can talk face-to-face virtually."

From Should I Stay or Should I Go? by Heather Corinna

[manitole]

Emmrich x Rook = Ideas for Fanfic

 (This is going to be a REALLY long post)

Context: I’m an awkward millennial that doesn’t know Tumblr very well. I apologize in advance if this post is weird and not perfect, I’m still learning. My activities on this platform are mostly resharing awesome post on my page. Since the last few weeks, I must admit that the communities here around my tags are incredible, positive, academic and just kind of healing my heart. For this reason, I feel comfortable trying to be a little more invested. Introduction to the main theme: I’m really happy to see that I’m far from being the only one to be obsessed and hyperfocused on Emmrich Volkarin, especially his romance with Rook. His personality is different from my typical fictional crushes: this fact had opened new possibilities about scenarios in my imagination. The main theme: I love to write, but I have a thesis to finish. Plus, I’ve already started two fanfictions and I’m not close to be done with those two stories. Since I’m lacking time, experience in fanfiction, knowledge in the DA universe and expertise in the English language (I’m a native French speaker), I must conclude that writing a fanfic Emmrich X Rook would not be the best idea right now. I would LOVE to share some of my ideas if it can inspire some people out there:

A – Too much rigidity versus chaotic (Mortal): I would LOVE to see a fanfic which addresses the mountain struggles of Rook and Emmrich living together after the story of the game. This man has been alone for a long time. We don’t know if he already lived with someone else during a long period of time. Emmrich likes to have his books ‘’pristine’’. I’m also guessing he has a strict routine regarding mealtime. I see Rook being kind of chaotic, as letting their underwear lying around where they needed to remove them (around a bed, coffin, or on the dinning table after some sexy time… why not). I could also see Rook inviting old friends for a late dinner, at the last minute, while Emmrich is already in his night gown, ready to sleep. Anyway, I would LOVE to see character’s development around those struggles: Emmrich learning to be a little more flexible while Rook is learning to be a little less disorganized.

B – Feeling bored after saving the world (Mortal): Could be related with point A or not. I know that everyone has different opinions, but so far, I preferred Rook to also be a Mourn Watcher. It seems natural to think that after the end of the game, Emmrich, Rook and Manfred are going back to Neverra. I could see Emmrich going back to teaching. I could see both possibilities where he is satisfied with this (with Rook and Manfred in his life) VERSUS feeling bored after travelling so often for saving the world. I’m not sure what Rook would want to do with their life after the war. Could they even be able to stay at one place? I could see them needed to travel and leave Neverra for sometimes for fighting or geopolitical stuff. I could also see Rook being done with that kind of life and wanting a normal happy and almost boring routine. Let’s talk about marriage. We all know that Emmrich always thought he would get married someday. Would he be ready to marry Rook? If yes, does it mean that he has outcome the age gap problem (?). I don’t know about Rook since the character vary from person to person. They could want to wait for marriage. I see this possibility more in the Mortal route since I have NO idea how Lichdom works and if a Lich can marry someone…

Now. I must explain before going on with my next idea. I’m not a fan of any pronatalist outcome. I don’t think a couple should have children to be happy or have some news goals. I also love stories and fanfic that show childfree happy people. Having children is not and should not be seen as a normal progression of life. It’s a choice and it should be a free and informed joint decision. Childfree couples are NOT less interesting than parents. But I also can see the difference between real life and fiction, especially in a fantastic universe like DA. I think some fanfic that adds children into the story can be a good thing, especially if those are kind of REALISTIC (happy rainbow sunshine without any struggles at all) and talk about more than only the positive of parenthood. Now, we could argue about Manfred. For me, as a couple, Emmrich and Rook are already parental figures to Manfred. While it’s not a typical experience, there is still something there. Manfred doesn’t need to eat (nor to sleep?) but he can still burn some books by accident, requiring some ‘’parenting’’ from Emmrich or Rook.

C – Parenting: I could see the couple adopting a kid while the opportunity is there. I also think that Manfred would be an awesome big brother. Now, let’s talk about a Rook that could be pregnant (trigger for some people, so please go to point D if you don’t want to read about this idea or about parenting and or reproduction).

1 – Pregnancy (Mortal): I’ve been thinking A LOT about the last scene between Rook and Emmrich when they have sex in a coffin. I’m an artist geek but also a nerd scientific with a nursing degree. Both don’t always match well together. I don’t know a lot about contraception in fantastic universe, especially DA. I can’t stop myself thinking: did Emmrich and or Rook THOUGHT about this? One part of me think that Emmrich would not be the type of person to forget about any risk regarding that subject. It would seem easy for him to cast a charm for preventing a pregnancy? I don’t know. But on the other hand, the end of the world is happening, and him or Rook could not survive to the last battle. The party banter between Harding and Emmrich show that the necromancer can forget some things important when he is with Rook or just by being in a new relationship. So perhaps Emmrich didn't think about it. I could see Rook having sex without having that in mind at all, kind of like a YOLO attitude. They love Emmrich and they are like '' let’s have awesome lovemaking before perhaps dying or whatever''.

Nooooow. Let���s talk about that accidental pregnancy if we could agree that because of those circumstances, no one thought about contraception, because you know… ‘’ End of the world ‘’. Plus, while an accidental pregnancy could be the end of the world for some person, it could not be as horrible for others, like Emmrich and or Rook. So, the team beat Elgar’nan, Solas linked himself to the fade and all. The world is safe for now. It’s the time of celebration. Even after some rest, Rook doesn’t feel really good. They are kind of tired all the time but again, it’s normal since they have been on high adrenaline during the last few months (?). It could explain things. Them and Emmrich could think it is related to the fade or perhaps a curse. Eventually, I’m pretty sure Emmrich would realize the situation before Rook. He was able to spot that stiff wrist. He could see subtle difference regarding Rook. I could totally see his shocked face while understanding the situation. As for Rook, I could see them not thinking about that possibility because perhaps they weren’t having regular periods in the first place because of the hard activities while trying to save the world. Now, let’s ad point A and perhaps point B to this scenario. The couple is trying to live together in a new routine while also learning they are expecting a baby. I waaaaaant to read about that 52-53 years old necromancer realizing his partner is pregnant with his child. Everything is going too fast, and Harding could make snaky remarks on this. I want to read how Emmrich feel about this: He always wanted a family, and he already has Manfred and Rook, but having a child could be something positive to him for different reasons (legacy and pronatalist blabla). But because of his age, it could also be an experience kind of sad, realizing that he could not see his kid grow as much as he would love to. The reaction of Rook about all of this could be really different since again, Rook vary for each player. I would love to see some struggles (perhaps with a big fight?) with a pregnant Rook who still wants to fight and live their ''normal'' life and an overprotective Emmrich (with only good intentions) kind of overwhelming. I could also see Emmrich taking his retirement from teaching sooner than expected, since he wants to spend as much time as possible with his children. I also think he could be the main parent, as the most ‘’maternal’’, kind of overprotective, again.

I see Emmrich having a girl. I’m not sure why, but it flows better in my imagination. It would make a lot of sense if this girl had the name of a flower or a plant, and her middle name could be Emmrich's mother. With Rook and Emmrich as parents, this little girl would become a badass woman with high self-esteem, taking bullshit from no one. She would LOVE her big brother, and Manfred would also LOVE her. I like to think he will learn faster while being a brother figure. I really see the young girl saying to everyone she has a big brother called Manfred without ever explaining that he is actually a spirit in the body of a skeleton. I could see everyone kind of shocked while meeting Manfred for the first time without that context.

Plus: Vorgoth must be one of the godparents, please. And the family should eventually adopt a pig.

Bonus: a time jump where Emmrich is dying, more than satisfied with his life, and all of his family is around him. I don't mind crying.

2 – Lich route (kind of a silly idea): This idea is kind of a joke. I don’t know how Lichdom works, but I’m pretty sure that once you are a Lich, you are sterile? Now… An accidental pregnancy could happen if Emmrich and Rook had sex BEFORE Emmrich became a Lich. I think it would be really hard on him to outlive not only Rook but also his children and perhaps his grandchildren. I could only see this as possible and not heartbreaking if Rook and Emmrich have a kid who is also a mage and would eventually also become a Lich. I could totally see an awkward family tradition that goes on generation after generation where each child gifted with magic MUST become a Lich before they are 60 years old or something. Imagine: you are like 25-year-old mage and Lichdom don’t appeal to you at all, nor does necromancy. Your sibling doesn't have magic so all the expectations are ON you (and that sibling is, of course, jealous of you).  One of your parents is getting close to becoming a Lich, and the ceremony is approaching. You have a grandparent and a lot of great-grandparents who are also Liches, and the festivity dinners are always awkward. Your family is like famously known in Nevarra but from the inside, you just feel weird. Eventually, you take your courage to break this tradition, coming out to your parents, and they tell you: “You are too young to decide this yet. Your great-grandmother thought the same thing at your age. You will change your mind.” To prove your point, you decide to join the Grey Wardens (or any action making it impossible for you to become a Lich), and half of your family is MAD and saying, “Omg, your great-great-great-great-grandfather is SO disappointed in you.” Done. I just find this possibility really funny.

D – Age gap: I would also like lots of scenes where Rook reacts the opposite of expected regarding the age gap between Emmrich and them (this post as an example). I could see Emmrich being a little annoyed sometimes when people talk to him about this subject, but I would love a Rook who doesn’t seem to understand the problem and just reacts possessively, as if the people talking about it are just jealous. That would also reassure Emmrich (I think).

E – Cute little scenes: I want to read about Emmrich and Rook snuggling on the couch in front of a fire, while Emmrich reads aloud a book about some academic stuff. I also would love a scene where Emmrich gives a powerful massage to Rook (since he knows anatomy so well…).

This is it. Thank you very much for reading. Now that all of this is out of my system, I can go back in peace to my boring thesis. If you already know some fanfics with one of those subjects, please tell me. I’m trying to check on AO3 often, but I don’t always have the time.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Man, I’m watching Pearl’s Wednesday VOD and just. She’s talking about the Life Series. About how she needs to stop seeking Gem out because she’s looking desperate and obsessed. And then she mentions that everyone has their own idea of the narrative, even the Lifers. She says Scott always brings up the powdered snow, and she forgot about the axe crits but people in her comments have been reminding her that that was BEFORE the powdered snow. And just. I think all this is up your alley. The Scott and ace crit comments are at about 1 hour 49 min in the vod btw

this is a great ask bringing really intriguing information. i’ll be honest normally i’m always tuned in for hermitcraft streams, but i didn’t really bother this week because i was consuming so much caitvi content buried deep on ao3 i might actually drop dead

anyway. hmm. i love how pearl always checks for fandom reaction to decide what’s the most entertaining route to go, or deciding to drop or pick up a storyline. you can kinda tell because when she argues with scott she always has new material. basically she’s one of the lifers (like martyn or gem) who has consciously and explicitly thought about her character’s story, which is why her povs consistently deliver. she’s aware that she’s an unreliable narrator and so is everyone else she interacts with, so she doesn’t hold back on being unashamedly biased.

the gem comment is kind of funny because considering how active pearl is in the fandom, she should’ve known what type of reaction WL session 5 would elicit. still. what is our gal if not desperate and obsessed.

don’t even bring up the axe crits omg— i was wondering if she’d genuinely forgotten about them, especially the number of times she’s gone along with the very strongly prevailing fanon that pearl started it (even if it was scar’s idea). as a dl!pearl apologist it’s the strongest argument: that it was scott who chose to elevate the animosity, that it was pearl who yelped in surprise when her hearts went down a notch at the start of DL episode 2.

i’ll check the vod out (thanks so much for the timestamp)

[leoruby-draws]

I did a whole bunch of drawings for Jason's team two weeks back, so now its time to concentrate on Steph's team! Here we've got 4 new characters for her team, with a couple extra tomorrow as well. Lets go into to them, one by one.

First up is the lantern for the group, more specifically a Violet Lantern apprentice aka Miri Riam! Her reasons for coming to earth is unknown at the moment but they seem to have some connection to Carol Ferris. Carol's also a Violet Lantern and Hal's(Green Lantern) on-and-off girlfriend and occasional antagonist. Perhaps Miri was sent to become Carol's apprentice? I've got more info on whats happening there, but thats for later.

As for why Miri was chosen for the group, I knew I wanted some kind of Lantern for the team, but couldn't find a green lantern that was both in Steph's age group and have fun interactions with them. But then I thought, does it have to be a green lantern? I had a red lantern for Jason's group after all. I looked around and found Miri! I don't know her exact age but I knew she was a young adult, so I'm just gonna have her be around Steph's age group.

The Violet Lanterns Corps are very ...enthusiastic about the power of love and Miri's no exception. She wants everyone to know the joy of Love, she's honestly kinda annoying about it. I remember this one GL issue where she was destroying a city just to get Kyle and Soranik to resolve their love troubles. That pretty much became the basis for how I'm writing Miri's personality. Like I said above, I'll get more into Miri at a later time.

Next is Maxine Hunkel aka Cyclone, granddaughter of Ma Hunkel aka the golden age Red Tornado! I already posted a drawing of her a while back, I thought she'd make a fun fit for the team. She's has such high energy and so much enthusiasm I couldn't help but find her utterly endearing. I think at a later point she'll end up joining the JSA but for now she's just having fun with this team.

Btw I thought that maybe her grandmother, Ma Hunkel, could fit a similar role that the other Red Tornado did for Young Justice, helping out a young hero team. Just a way to emphasize how Steph and Tim's teams can serve as foils to each other.

Next up is the archer of the group, Mia Dearden aka Speedy II. Tho she should probably have a different name due to Roy still being Speedy atm. Maybe Speedette? Ehhh, gotta workshop that.

Anyways here's Mia and Steph meeting as civilians, with Mia showing off her bow. Mia seems to be in some sort of school uniform, perhaps Oliver is sponsoring her to go to a fancy academy? Her backstory is similar to canon, with Oliver saving her from bad people. I'm not sure if her story should be exactly the same as canon, since Mia is 10 but terrible things like that do happen in real life to young children. But I don't know if a goofy au like mine is the best place to show that. But for now lets just say Mia is currently trying to heal and become a hero like Green Arrow.

I imagine Steph and Mia get along really well, they just get each other in a lot of ways. Steph can see Mia might be hurting inside and wants to cheer her up, hopefully with all of Mia's new friends she can.

Last up is Jaime Reyes aka Blue Beetle III. Unfortunately I haven't drawn him all that much so no individual drawing for him, tho I do like him.

As for why Jaime, I remember liking him in the YJ cartoon and found him pretty likeable in the comics as well. But I've always like the spiderman hero archetype anyways, which Jaime fits really well (I mean, it was done on purpose). Static and Sideways also fit the archetype and are in the team as well. Arguably you can say add Steph to this too, probably more than Tim in my personal opinion.

Another reason I wanted to add Jaime is that he and Steph almost became teammates in canon, in a failed Young Justice project. What could have been huh. Third reason is more silly tho, if Barbara and Ted Kord start to date in this au, imagine how grossed out Steph and Jaime will be lmao.

So there's four new teammates for the team, but! I've got a couple extra for tomorrow! And later on I hope to finally post some more doodles of these characters (some of them are real old, more than a year old). Especially Miri, she turned out to be such a fun character, and I've always liked the all the lantern corps. Here's a bonus doodle of them btw (with bonus unmasked Sideways):

So many new members, well, hope you liked all that!

[charcubed]

"Did you love medical school?" Avery asks Max.

"Medical school is the greatest longest hardest thing you're ever going to do," Max says, not answering the question, as he is already fucking famous for doing to get out of talking about himself.

(But this is not a post about Max. This time.)

The use of the word love here and the subtle framing of medical school as a relationship... Well.

My theory for Avery since the start has been that part of her arc is going to be growing to understand herself and realizing that becoming a doctor is not synonymous with fulfillment.

In episode 2, we got her saying,

"I've given up everything good. Everything that matters. Relationships, family. All for this job. And at the end of the day… I'm alone. Adrift. With nothing to show for it. I'm never going to be a doctor. This is all there is for me."

(This follows a pattern of a thing this show does with dialogue where characters say things that are more revealing to us as the audience than the characters themselves are conscious of, but that's a point for another post.)

Her bucket list included,

"I want to know myself."

because she doesn't know herself yet.

And now we got,

“I always thought that if I became a doctor things would start to make sense.”

I think Avery wants far more than just being a doctor... or, to be fully honest with you, I think they're conceivably going to go the route where she decides she doesn’t need to be a doctor because she’s found fulfillment in her life and work (and love!) in other ways anyway. I’m not talking “Rachel gives her life up for Ross” type of bullshit with two men instead of one, but rather tied into the explicit arc of how Avery wants to know and understand herself because she doesn't currently, and the "you're never alone" theme. That's part of what this pregnancy and future abortion plotline is setting up anyway: it's a brute force tool for self-reflection for her.

Does Avery really want to be a doctor, especially at the expense of all other parts of her desires? Or has that just always been The Plan and is she unconsciously thinking that earning that title will fix the holes she feels in herself and in her life?

If you think this sounds tricky to pull off as a story, you'd be correct – but hey, so is polyamory, and yet they're doing that. They’d have to write Avery's arc well enough that it doesn’t come across as reductive, but I really think they could land it because of the character setup they seem to be doing for her – and I've thought that for several weeks already. This week just has me locking in on that possibility more.

Now, going off the rails here from meta to straight up crack theorizing even though it's way too early to be predicting shit...

Weeks ago I was already wondering… what if the season ends with Avery going to leave to become a doctor and the guys decide to follow her? Maybe even in a big dramatic traditional “they run off the ship / to the airport” sort of romantic scene sort of way lmaaaooo. And as the boys abandon ship to follow her, at the same time, SHE turns around to go back to them without knowing they were following her! Idk. Who knows! Not me. Like I said, way too early to know anything.

Regardless though, the Hot Take™️? I would not at all be surprised if Avery changes her mind about wanting to become a doctor. And I think it could, if done correctly, be a weirdly bold move (in a show that's already planning to pull off A Big Bold Move).

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

2 Minus 1 - Act Two

Seungcheol is doing good without you. Really good, in fact! He’s got a great job, has his own apartment, and has many friends surrounding him. He’s even done some dating in the three years that you’ve been gone. On some blissful days, you don’t even cross his mind. But when you reappear in his life, he has to come to terms with the fact that he might not be doing as good as he thought he was. 

Genres: ANGST with a little bit of fluff here and there.

Word count: 6.4k

Requested? Yes!

You can find the series masterlist here.

Seungcheol stretches with a groan as soon as he hangs up the phone. He’s worked through the normal lunch hour and normally wouldn’t do that, but the client he needed to speak with is in a different time zone and he said he was flexible. It’s not a lie, but still, his stomach grumbles loudly at the thought of food, or rather the smell that’s wafting into his office when the door opens. 

“Man, am I happy to see you,” he says jokingly as Minghao sets a styrofoam box on the corner of his desk. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan have piled in as well, making themselves comfortable on the couch in the corner and in the chairs in front of Seungcheol’s desk. They’re incredibly casual considering he’s their manager. They go out for dinner and drinks regularly, even on the weekends, and aren’t afraid to poke fun at each other outside of meetings with higher ups. He considers them friends, really. Friends that prop their feet up on his desk or lie down on his couch at 1pm for a nap. Seungcheol’s too busy stuffing his face to get after them about any of it right now. 

“How was the meeting?” Minghao asks. Objectively, he’s the most responsible of his team and Seungcheol often delegates to him when he can’t handle something himself, and is always assured that Minghao will handle it with grace. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan look totally unconcerned about the meeting that will impact their future workload right now. They’ll buckle down when they have to, no doubt, but today is not the day. 

“Fine. They have a few more requests for the contract, so I added them to the list for a few weeks from now.” Seungcheol doesn’t care if they can understand him through bites. He’ll have to repeat all of this in front of his supervisor and them tomorrow anyway.

“Oh! Speaking of which, guess who we ran into?” Chan pipes up. Seungcheol shrugs. He doesn’t feel like guessing and it doesn’t look like he has to wait long because the three youngest members look excited. “Your friend, Y/N. The one you introduced us to on your birthday? She works in contracts now.”

Seungcheol pauses. Stops chewing all together. Swallows. Drops his chopsticks. And drops his head into his hands. “Oh my god,” he mumbles. 

There’s a long pause around the room before Vernon carefully asks, “Is that a bad thing? I thought you two were friends. Did I misread that?”

Seungcheol is still groaning. “Why me? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?”

Minghao’s eyes widen, and then he’s standing up, closing Seungcheol’s office door so this little breakdown isn’t heard by anyone else. “Okay, what’s the deal?” Seungcheol doesn’t respond and Minghao says his name a little more forcefully. 

Seungcheol sighs, sitting back up though he looks distressed. His phone rings and he lets it go to voicemail. “It’s a long story,” he says, hoping that they’ll have a short attention span today.

“What? Do you guys have history or something?” Seungkwan asks. When Seungcheol is silent, Seungkwan simply mumbles, “Oh.”

“You know, I thought it was a little suspicious that you didn’t actually describe someone you’ve known your whole life as a friend. We just made the assumption that she was,” Minghao starts. “Tell us,” he all but demands.

“No,” Seungcheol huffs. “Go back to work.” No one moves a muscle, staring at him expectantly. Vernon even appears to be getting more comfortable on the couch. Seungcheol huffs again. “Fine. We used to date. It’s awkward now. End of story.”

Minghao nods, humming. “So it didn’t end well, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs at the man he considers to be his best friend nowadays. “What don’t you get about ‘end of story’?” 

“Oh, we get it. We just don’t care,” Seungkwan sasses. “Now what’s the rest of that story? There has to be more.”

Resigned to the fact that they won’t be leaving him alone to crawl in a hole and die anytime soon, Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossed and food forgotten. Y/N had that affect on him, forgetting about food and sleep and everything else important. The phone rings again and he ignores it. Over the ringing, he starts telling them the story. 

He’s known her literally since he was born. Their fathers are friends and Seungcheol and Y/N happened to be born a day apart. They were inseparable for their whole lives and started dating when they were in college after he'd pined for an embarrassingly long time. Then came the news that she’d be moving for grad school. Seungcheol admits he hadn't taken it well and couldn’t maintain contact with her once she left. And now she's moved back and every interaction they’ve had to have so far has been totally suffocating to him. But, they share a ton of mutual friends and those interactions are unavoidable.

There’s a few beats of silence before Seungkwan runs his mouth again. “Ah. So you're not over it, then.”

Anger floods Seungcheol’s veins. “What?! It’s been over three years. Of course, I’m over it. I’m better off, in fact,” he insists vehemently. No one says anything and Seungcheol’s lips are falling into a small pout. “It’s just that it’s awkward now. We spent every second together for over 20 years before she left and now I don’t feel like I even know her.”

Chan shrugs. “Well, she’s back. Just get to know her again. I mean, people can change a lot in a few years, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be friends again.” He makes it sound so simple and it makes Seungcheol’s head feel like it might explode. 

“No, I won’t be doing that,” he snaps, frustration bleeding into every word. 

Minghao nods, shrugging. “Fine, don’t fix a life long friendship,” he says evenly and it takes Seungcheol aback a bit. “But can you be civil? We’ll have to work with her department often when this contract freeze is over. She might even take the lead on some of them.”

Seungcheol chews on the inside of his cheek for a long moment before finally saying, “Yeah, I’ll be civil.” Not that they needed to know, but the last thing he really wanted to be was mean to you. He just wasn’t sure how friendly he could be if it would twist the knife that you left in his chest. 

~

It’s been a week since you started working here, and Seungcheol has managed to not see you yet. Not that it’s stopped his team from asking about it every single day. ‘Have you seen Y/N yet?’ ‘Have you talked to her?’ ‘Just ran into Y/N downstairs!’ He’s been brusque about responding to these little questions and comments, doing his best to appear busy, although his email is slow and his calendar is pretty empty. 

It’s Minghao who eventually calls him out for the avoidance. “You know I can see your calendar, right? And you haven’t sent me anything to work on, which usually means you have a good handle on the things on your plate. So how long are you going to avoid seeing her? She’s quite literally below our feet.”

Forever, he wants to say at first. He shrugs and says he has some things he needs to get done so Minghao will let him breathe. But the comment gets him thinking because he never would have said that before. Not in a million years - he wasn’t attached to you for over 20 years for nothing. He’s not sure he really means it now. And everything else aside, not popping in to say hi to someone he’s known for over two decades and is now working on the floor right below him is not so civil. It’s only a matter of time before he runs into you in the hallway, cafeteria, or elevator. And there’s that pesky meeting on his calendar with your department. 

So he stops by the tenth floor on his way back up from lunch, knocking on the door after a mini pep talk. Seokmin turns from his computer, greeting him. Seungcheol likes Seokmin. He doesn’t know anyone who doesn’t. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Pretty light load right now,” Seokmin answers. “I hear you’ll be changing that soon.”

Seungcheol shrugs good-naturedly with a chuckle. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s part of my job description.” His eyes wander to the other side of the office and he knows it’s yours. Last month, when he stopped by to ask Seokmin a question, the desk was totally empty with not even a desk chair behind it. Now, it’s got a few succulents, a couple pictures, a cup of brightly colored pens. “Is Y/N in today?”

Seokmin’s eyes perk up and then Seungcheol hears a little cough behind him. He steps back so you can step inside. “Looking for me?” You give him a little smile, setting a coffee mug on Seokmin’s desk and then one on your own.

It kind of burns him up inside how casual you are, but he doesn’t know what he expected, so he clears his throat. “Yeah. I heard you were working here now, so I thought I’d come say hi and welcome you, all that stuff.”

“Oh! That’s nice of you, Seungcheol,” you say in your typical sweet voice, but the words burn him up too. Particularly his full first name. He was never ‘Seungcheol’ before. Always ‘Cheol’. The newfound formality makes him squirm. 

“How are you settling in? Is Seokmin being a good roommate?” Seungcheol tries to keep his voice light, teasing even. 

Something in your eyes light up and it kind of feels like a gut punch, because in so many ways it feels the same and it so many ways it feels like it never could be the same again. “Oh, Seokmin’s great. We’re besties now.” You pass a friendly smile to Seokmin, who returns it. Yeah, Seungcheol likes Seokmin, but something deep, deep inside him wishes you didn’t. He feels stupid for that. You continue on. “And as for settling in, there hasn't been much to settle into yet. I hear we’ll get something to work on next week though?”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah. We’ll see you guys and Mrs. Jang next week to talk about contract requirements. Nothing crazy. It’s pretty run of the mill stuff. We’ll see how much you learned in law school.” He hopes it comes off as a joke and not an insult, but he sees the corner of your lips twitch downwards and he knows it’s landed wrong. He’s way too proud and perhaps a little too bitter still to apologize. 

Still, you shrug. “It wasn’t cheap or easy, so I hope I learned something.”

That awkwardness that he thinks he’ll never get used to with you starts to seep back in, so he makes an excuse that he needs to get back upstairs, waving to you and Seokmin on the way out. Back at his desk, he slumps, head on his desk again. That definitely twisted the knife. 

~

The meeting twists the knife too. He always knew you were sweet. He’d watch you effortlessly win people over with your charm all his life and had never felt an ounce of bitterness about it. But still, he’s surprised when you win over his supervisor within just a few minutes before the meeting even starts. Mr. Park is a hard ass and it took Seungcheol nearly two years of tireless work to win his approval and get the management position that he has now. You won him over simply by mentioning your most recent alma mater and speaking fondly of it. Turns out that Mr. Park went there as well for his MBA. Small world. 

Beyond that, you don’t say much in this meeting. It’s up to Seungcheol’s team to present the contract requirements and hand them off to your department, and it’s a blessedly short meeting because your department will need some time to draft things up and gather questions. Seungcheol takes a long lunch after the meeting to walk around the block and work off the feelings that are bubbling inside of him. He also ignores his teams’ stares when he passes by their office on the way back to his. They aren’t subtle about how every single one of them peer over their cubicle walls like they’ve been waiting for him to come back. 

It’s almost time to go home when Minghao comes in by himself. “So. That went well this morning, didn't it?” He starts conversationally, sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of Seungcheol’s desk. 

“Sure,” Seungcheol says shortly, trying to wrap up an email. “Jang’s team has always been good. I didn't expect any trouble.”

“Oh, I’m not concerned about that. I was talking about you being civil with your ex… whatever you guys are. You were very smooth, actually. Not that I’m supposed to tell you, but the kids were taking bets.”

Seungcheol stops typing, looking out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you guys have work to do? I’m sure there's a rule about betting in the personnel manual anyway.” He doesn’t bother reminding Minghao that he's only a year or two older than any of them and calling them ‘kids’ is a stretch, regardless of how much more responsibility Minghao pulls around here.

“No,” Minghao chuckles. “You haven’t assigned us anything this week. They’ve been playing darts for days. Tournament style. A few people from other departments have joined.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes because he most certainly told them to take that dart board home. He doesn’t want to explain to his supervisor or anyone else really. “Anyway, it was a bet about paying for lunch. No money is directly trading hands. I looked it up, it’s technically allowed.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, hitting send and then leaning back in his seat. “Don’t make me go to HR to find out if you're right, Hao. There’s a difference between ‘allowed’ and ‘loophole’.” Minghao looks totally unaffected by the threat, so Seungcheol moves on. “Who won the bet then?”

“Chan. Seungkwan bet that you’d be mean. Vernon bet that you’d look totally lovesick. Chan bet that you’d be avoidant.” 

“Avoidant?” Seungcheol reels back. He can’t deny the urge to be both mean and lovesick, but avoidant? “How did that one win? I sat across from her. I talked to her.” 

“No,” Minghao shakes his head. “You at no point spoke directly to her. Didn’t really look at her either.” Seungcheol falls silent because he’s not sure what to say. “I understand that you didn’t want to be honest with the kids, but you know I can keep a secret. So what’s really going on?”

He feels like he’s 22 again, sitting at the table in his crappy student apartment, about to get a knife shoved in his chest. If only he could go back and give himself a heads up not to think too hard about the future. He’s looking out of the window behind him when he starts talking. “You know, I was planning to propose? Maybe not right away, but we’d talked about moving in together and it felt right, you know? Then she rips my heart out and moves across the world a few weeks later. Never mind the fact that we’d been attached at the hip for our whole lives. It would have hurt without the dating.” 

Minghao hums sympathetically. “I can understand some bitterness.” It’s not some, he wants to say. He’s been choking on it for three years if he thinks about it for too long. “How long had you been into her?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, shrugging. “A decade? I don’t know. It was always going to be her, it seems. Which makes everything harder.”

“Makes some sense,” Minghao says, and Seungcheol snaps his head to him, looking confused. “Of what little dating you’ve done since then, nothing has lasted. You didn’t seem that interested in the first place, really. It was always going to be her and it’s still her. That’s okay, really, if you just come to terms with it.”

That bitterness is constricting his throat more and more by the second. “How the fuck do I come to terms with that? I’m angry, Hao. It’s been three years and I’m still angry.”

“So, tell her,” Minghao shrugs. Seungcheol scoffs again, getting sick of how casual his friends are about this. “No, I’m serious. Lay it all out on the table so maybe you two can salvage something out of this awkward situation. You’re telling me you don’t want to recover anything with someone you’ve known your entire life? Nothing at all? You’d prefer to pretend she doesn't exist?”

He doesn’t know. He couldn’t be your friend when you left, and he doesn't think he can be your friend now. The possibility of being more with you again now that you’re back flashes through his mind like you two can pick up where you left off and he wants to light the idea on fire. No, he wants to light himself on fire before he gives you the chance to hurt him like that again. Still, he hates the longing that he feels, thinking about what it was like when it was good. It was good for a long time, even when it was unrequited. 

Minghao must realize that he won’t get an answer right now, so he slaps the edge of the desk lightly, standing up. “Come on. We’re going out for drinks. You look like you could use one and you’ve probably just been wiggling your mouse all day anyway.”

Seungcheol locks his computer and grabs his things. He could use a few drinks, actually, as long as his friends can avoid this conversation in front of him. 

~

Seungcheol gets up early on Saturday. Normally, he would sleep in and just do a few things around his apartment that were neglected throughout the week. Maybe go out with his friends later that night. But he’s been tense for weeks now, snapping at little things only to want to wallow in despair later when alone in his office. Minghao’s bluntly told him he’s being unpleasant, so he’s been hitting the gym harder lately to work out some of this frustration. He plans to go put himself through a long, excruciating work out since he has the time for it today. 

He runs for way longer on the treadmill than he normally would, but there’s something satisfying about the thud of his feet hitting the track that keeps him going until he feels unsteady. He’s dripping sweat by the time he gets to the weights and he stacks them high, going heavier than he usually would. Each pump of iron reduces some of the stress and by the time he walks out, he’s drop dead tired and aching all over, but his mind is blissfully blank. 

He stops by a coffee shop around the corner and gets his order to-go. When he comes out of the elevator on his apartment floor, he comes to a halt fast. There’s a couch in the way. Must be a new neighbor, he thinks. Someone moved out a few months ago and the unit next to his has been vacant since. 

Seungcheol sips his coffee, patiently watching the couch move. And nearly spits out that coffee all over the couch when he sees whose carrying the tail end of the couch. “Mingyu? What are you doing here?” He asks, surprised. 

Mingyu’s eyes are bright, despite the struggle of maneuvering the couch. “Hey, Cheol! It’s move in day!” 

“Oh!” Seungcheol cries out. “You’re moving in? Is Wonwoo coming with you?” 

“No!” Wonwoo’s voice echoes down the hall. He must be on the front end of the couch. “I would never want to be your neighbor. We aren’t the ones moving anyway,” he laughs. 

Seungcheol can step out of the elevator now and trails behind them. “Mean. I thought we were friends,” he laughs. “Who’s my new neighbor then? Anyone I know?” He kind of assumes it is since he shares so many mutual friends with them. 

“Help us get this around the corner and find out,” Mingyu grunts. Seungcheol drops his things off in his apartment and meets them next door, helping them angle the furniture into the doorway. 

The couch is inside the main room of the apartment when Wonwoo finally yells out. “Hey, come tell us where you want this!” 

“Coming!” A voice calls out from down the hall. Seungcheol’s stomach drops. Who else would Wonwoo and Mingyu be moving in, now that he thinks about it? You barrel around the corner, lugging a box in your hands. It lands on the floor in the corner with a thud. You look surprised to see him. “Oh, hey, Cheol. Joining the move in party?”

He knows you're not serious, but still he shrugs because he's at a loss for words. Wonwoo’s clearing his throat to bring the focus back to the task at hand. You gesture to a particular spot and Wonwoo and Mingyu slide it into place. “That's the last of the big stuff,” Mingyu announces. “Just boxes left now.” He turns to Seungcheol. “Got plans or are you up for a few trips? Y/N has promised beer and pizza as payment.”

Seungcheol doesn’t give a shit about beer or pizza or payment. He’s spiraling a little because he just started feeling better after a long work out, damn it! But he’s never been known to turn down helping you, and he could really use a second work out now. So he makes multiple trips downstairs to the truck, helping them get everything in. And he does stay for a beer and a couple slices of pizza, but is really relieved when he gets a message from Chan asking if anyone wants to go out for drinks. He does, if only to have a good reason to escape your apartment. 

~

There’s a knock on his door on Thursday night. When he opens it, his eyes flare in surprise. You look a little awkward waiting outside. He’s done some serious avoiding since you moved in on Saturday and either you’ve let him or you’re doing your own avoiding up until now. Still, he gives you an awkward smile. “Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” you start, shifting from foot to foot. “I just checked the mail and found a note that a package was delivered, but I think it might have actually come to you? Did you happen to get anything?”

He holds the door open, gesturing for you to step inside. “I got something, but haven't looked at it yet. Come in and I’ll check.”

You trail after him to his small dining room table that resembles more of a desk, what with the clutter of mail, an assortment of snacks, and a laptop. Seungcheol’s kept his second room as a spare bedroom because his friends like to crash here when they go out, so this has become an impromptu workspace over the years. Still, he tries to subtly organize things as he reaches for the small package, picking it up to read the label. “Oh yeah, this is for you,” he says, handing it over. 

“Thanks,” you say, relieved. An awkward beat passes and you look like you might bail now that you have what you came here for. But Seungcheol opens his mouth first for some unknown reason.

“How are you settling in?” 

Your shock is clear for a split second but you recover quickly. “Oh, it’s fine. Nicer than the apartment I had back in California, that's for sure. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course.” He’s surprised by how he means it. “Let me know if I can help with anything as you get unpacked.”

You don't recover from your shock this time. “You’d… do that? Help me, I mean.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Y/N, when have I ever not helped you? I’ve been doing that since before we both could walk.” 

Your eyes look a little watery as you bite your lip. It’s a look he’s seen before and it tugs at his heartstrings a little. “I just figured things might have changed too much for that to be true anymore, you know? I would understand if it has.”

Your acceptance that he might not want to be in your life anymore twists the knife more than any of your casualness since you’ve moved back. It makes him angry because he never wanted space from you in the first place. Sternly he says, “It hasn’t changed. Not like that anyway. Just call or come over, okay?” 

After a few beats, you finally nod. “Thanks, Cheol. And thanks for the package. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Have a good night, okay?” He watches you close the door behind you on your way out, but he doesn’t move for a long time. It’s hours later while he’s lying in bed when he remembers. He grabs his phone off the charger, unblocking you on everything. It’s kind of hard for you to reach out for help if he doesn’t do that. And he kind of hopes you will call, even if it just for a package mixed up in the mail. Even if it hurts to be around you, because  Seungcheol realizes Minghao’s been right with all of his lectures lately. He should really try to salvage something with you.

~

You send him a text the following Sunday. Initially, you’re trying to make sure he still has the same number - which he does. Then you ask if he’s up for hanging some things on the wall for you. You say you’ll feed him as payment, but that has so little to do with him sliding on shoes and walking next door at 10am. You actually look happy to see him when you open your door, not just neutral like you have been since moving back. 

“Hey, Cheol. Come on in.” Once he’s in and his shoes are off, you’re leading him to your kitchen. “Thanks for doing this. Wonwoo’s threatened me not to climb on anything, which would make it nearly impossible for me to do this myself.”

This brings some levity to the situation for Seungcheol in a weird way. Lovingly making fun of her clumsiness, just like he did for years and years before she left. The familiarity is warm and suffocating at the same time, but still he chuckles. “And he’s right for threatening you about that. You’d be dangerous on a ladder or stool.”

You’re chuckling too, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. “I know. I ruin everything. I’d probably put extra holes in the wall too before I break a bone. Pancakes okay?” 

“Sure,” Seungcheol shrugs, sipping on his coffee. It brings a stupid wave of emotions because you remembered how he likes his coffee and has prepared it to perfection. He tells himself that it’s because you have years of practice in college and it shouldn’t be something special but it is. He’s thankful that you have your back turned, grabbing things from the cabinet, and miss that it’s made him a little misty-eyed. “How are you liking the job?” 

You glance over your shoulder and shrug. “It’s alright.”

Your disinterested tone surprises him. He assumes you took this job because it was a direction you wanted to go after graduating, but you lack the passion he would have expected if that was the case. “Not what you had in mind?”

“No, it’s not that,” you drawl out, sighing. “My number one priority was coming home. In some ways, I took the first offer I got to do so. I’m not sure exactly what I want to do with my degree now that I have it.” Your laugh is incredibly humorless and he’s sure your expression would crush him if he could see it. “Isn’t that stupid?”

“No,” he says genuinely. It does burn him up inside to think that you might have left for nothing in a way, but he never wants to tell you that. In moments of clarity while you were gone, he did feel some pride that you were pursuing something you seemed passionate about. And on the heels of that, regrets that he didn’t just tell you that when you made your little announcement. “When did that change though? A few years ago, you were so excited for the program and where it would take you.”

He sees your shoulders tense at the mention of the breakup, no matter how delicately he was trying to tiptoe around it. But any discussion of her leaving would always tie back to that. “I guess I didn’t realize how many different things I could do with my degree outside of being a lawyer. I always had this image that I’d take the bar and find a practice and be in court everyday. I was about halfway through my degree when I realized the traditional career path might not be for me. Everyone keeps asking when I’m taking the bar and I’m not sure what to tell them, because it might be never now.”

Seungcheol mulls this over for a long time, letting you mix the batter, pour it into the pan, wait, flip, repeat. You have a decent stack of pancakes before he finally speaks. “That’s okay, Y/N. You shouldn’t stress about that. I mean, look at Jang. She’s got a law degree and has been in Contracts for longer than we’ve been alive. The non-traditional path is fine.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, flipping off the burner and bringing the full plate over to him. “Want anymore coffee? Fruit?” It’s clear to him that this part of the conversation is over, so he lets you bounce around the kitchen for a few things before finally sitting across from him. That tinge of awkwardness is still ever present, but he’s relieved that you two can move on to something else. Wonwoo and Mingyu. Seokmin. Seungcheol’s friends. Law school. It sort of, kind of, maybe feels like he can be your friend again, even if it looks and feels a little different. 

After breakfast, he helps you clean up. Then he lets you hand him dozens of things to hang throughout the apartment. Your diplomas. Photos of your family. Photos of you and your brothers. A few of you and him as kids, teenagers, and college students, which makes him misty-eyed again. A couple with what he assumes were friends from law school. A few of you and Jeonghan, someone you both went to high school with. 

“Didn’t know you knew Jeonghan that well,” he asks, hoping it sounds casual. 

“We went to law school in California together. We were close. Still are.” 

Seungcheol does his best to mask his awkwardness by teasing. “He had a massive crush on you back in high school, you know?”

You chuckle, handing him another thing to hang. “He told me.”

“Didn’t make a move, did he?” He’s joking, at first anyway. But you’re quiet as you hand him the next thing. 

“I guess? We dated for a while. Not that he told me about that crush until it was already over,” you finally admit. 

The knife twists. “Oh. Well, I’m sure he’s bummed you left.” He bites his tongue immediately because he didn't mean it like that. Your silence tells him you took it exactly how he wished you didn’t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbles, abandoning the pride that would usually keep him biting his tongue. 

You shake your head up at him. “It was deserved. I’m sorry if it’s awkward to talk about him. Or anything really.”

He focuses on the hook on the back of the next frame. “It shouldn’t be. Of course you dated while you were in California.”

Another pregnant pause. “Did you date?”

He shrugs and it’s genuinely casual because there’s not much to say. “Here and there. Nothing really stuck.”

You hum. “That’s it, I think. Get off the stool before you fall.”

The scolding makes him laugh. “I’m not you. I won’t be falling off.” Still, he climbs down, returning the stool to the kitchen. You meet him at the door, probably assuming he wants to go since he’s been here for hours now. “Thank you, again. You’ve kept my baby brother off my back for now.” 

The lightheartedness of the comment crushes him for so many reasons, but mostly that he spent years keeping Wonwoo and Mingyu, and often Bohyuk, off your back. Another thing that’s familiar. He desperately tries to match your lightheartedness when he says, “No problem. You know where to find me.”

At least later today you’ll know where to find him, anyway. He changes into gym clothes and hides out at the gym, working out until he can’t work out anymore. 

~

It’s Christmas and the tradition has always been for the Jeons and Chois to get together. They did it when Seungcheol and his brother and you and your brothers were kids, and it’s a tradition that they’ve maintained despite all of the kids being in their 20s now. 

Seungcheol offers to drive you to this get-together. He’s been doing that a lot lately, often times without realizing before the words are out of his mouth. If it’s raining or snowing, he’s offering to drive you to and from work because it’s right there. When the two of you go out with Wonwoo and Mingyu for dinner, he’s driving you home because it’s literally right there. When he needs to go to the grocery store, he asks you if you need anything or want to tag along, because it’s right there. You get the point. You’re right there and he can never seem to forget it.

So Seungcheol waits in your living room while you finish getting ready. He’s already got the gifts you both have purchased for everyone in the car. You come down the hall in a whirlwind, flinging on a coat over your Christmas sweater, tugging on boots. “I’m ready, I’m ready!” 

It makes him laugh genuinely. The awkwardness has faded for the most part, replaced by warmth, much like it was before you left. “Not like they’re going to start with out us.”

You scoff, grabbing your bag. “A very Leo attitude of you to have.”

“And you don't have that attitude?” He chortles, meeting you at the door, taking your keys from you to lock up since you seem frazzled. 

You snort. “No. Have you met my brothers? Bohyuk will eat both your portion and mine before we can get there if they don't watch him.” 

“You act like both my parents and yours aren’t making enough to feed a small army,” Seungcheol scoffs again, leading you into the parking garage. When both of you arrive, it's kind of like you never left. There are even moments where he forgets that you actually did. Watching you put your youngest brother in a headlock for stealing food off your plate. Wonwoo replacing the food from his own plate while you have your back turned. You getting Seungcheol a drink when you get up to get a refill for yourself. Seungcheol’s older brother Seungmin even comments that it’s like the four of you are still children. Mentions of law school can’t even touch the good mood Seungcheol’s in when you both walk to the car much, much later that night to go home. 

You’re a little bit giggly when you collapse into the front seat and he can’t help but chuckle. “Baby, I think you had a little too much eggnog.” You roll your eyes dramatically, tugging on your seat belt to try buckling it. It's not going well, so Seungcheol leans into the passenger side to do it for you. “So stubborn,” he chuckles again. “Watch your arm,” he warns, closing the door. Once in his own seat he starts up the car, blasts the heat, and gets on the road. “Did you have fun? First Christmas back with everyone.”

“I did,” you sniffle, and it makes his head snap to you. That’s right. You cry when you drink. The tiniest mention of something that makes you emotional balloons into tears. He’d lost count of how many times he’d let you curl up into his side until the emotion had passed, soothing you along the way. He can’t do that, because he’s driving and because it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. So he reaches over, palm up for you to hold and you do on instinct. “I missed it. Holidays here, I mean. Hannie and Joshua tried to make Christmas fun there, but it wasn’t the same, you know?”

“I can imagine,” he says soothingly. “It was nice though. You hadn’t seen Bohyuk yet since you moved back, right?” 

“He’s a little shit,” you chuckle, but Seungcheol knows the statement is full of love. “It was nice to see Seungmin, too. I hadn’t seen him in a long time.”

Seungcheol hums. “He asks about you all the time. Says he always thought you were a sweet kid.”

“I’m sweet now,” you whine.

This makes a laugh bubble up Seungcheol’s throat. “I know you are, baby.”

You hum, looking kind of sleepy as you lean your head back. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Seungcheol blinks, then realizes what he's said. Not once, but twice. He drives for a few long seconds in silence. “I’m sorry. It slipped. Habit, I guess.”

You’re sniffling again. “No, I like it. It reminds me that maybe you don't hate me.”

He’s lost in thought for the next few minutes, parking in the garage, leading you inside. He takes your keys from you, letting you into your apartment. He helps you change because he’s seen it all already and you’re totally unfazed by it. He helps you get into bed, tucking you in a bit. You’re already half asleep when he strokes your hair a few times. “I don’t hate you. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Cheol.” He can barely make your words out before you’re really out like a light. 

The gym is closed so he just lies in bed staring at the ceiling for a while. It’s true. He doesn’t hate you. Could never, really. He just doesn’t know what that means. 

[codfanficedits]

Before the mask - part seventeen.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 1525| Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Just fluff :)

A/N: I am so sorry for dissapearing like that. I graduated in the meantime, landed my dreamjob, I'll hear in about a week if I'm keeping that dreamjob, since I live with a racist goverment. I went to Sleep Token, had surgery again and I started to plan my wedding. Anyway, enjoy this short chapter while I try to sort my life out.

Simon knew that he was a lucky bastard, having someone as beautiful as you next to him. And it made him want to try. He wanted to try to be a better man, to improve himself, he wanted you to be so proud of him. 

So when he saw you, all by yourself in the common area, with not a single soul who could see you two, he knew what he had to do. 

He stalked closer, almost as a predator stalking its prey. His footsteps oh so quiet, holding in his breath, his strong hands wrapping around your elbows, his chest against your back. “Care to dance with me, my love?”

Always." You answered, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes locked with his eyes, and you turned around, placing your hand in his, your other hand on his shoulder.

"Lead the way."

He spun you around in slow, gentle movements, moving your body effortlessly, almost as if his hands weren’t made for killing, but just for this. He held you close to him, resting one hand on the small of your back and moving the other from your hand to your hip. He stepped in time with the rhythm of his beating heart, his hands grazing your body intimately.

When he pulled you into him, you felt his heart beating strong. He leaned in and brushed your nose with his. "Don't ever let go of me," he whispered. "As if I would ever let someone as wonderful as you go." You whispered as you let him lead the way in this gentle dance. 

"I don't think you'll ever get rid of me." He chuckled softly. "That's good, because I can't imagine life without you." He held you tightly. Your hips moved against him in such a tantalising way, your body brushing up against his body. He leaned you back a little, leaning down to kiss you deeply. There was just something about you that had him smitten. "That sounds like a plan." You answered, after pulling back from the kiss, so you could rest your head on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that it almost made you worry that it would beat out of his chest. 

"I really love you." You murmured softly as you closed your eyes, enjoying this sweet little moment together. 

"I really love you, too," Simon whispered. He stroked your hair gently, letting his hand trail down to your jaw, needing to see your face once more, his lips lingering near yours. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Another quick kiss gets shared, and you smile at him. 

"I really can't wait to grow old with you." You begin. "To be old and wrinkly and still be yours."

"Old, wrinkled, and in love." He chuckled lightly. "Nothing and no one can keep me from you."

Simon lifted you into his arms and twirled you around, pulling you back into his embrace. His hands gripped your waist firmly, caressing the shape of your body. "I love being with you, all the adventures and surprises. I want that forever."

Oh, how you loved this, just softly swaying with the man you loved most. When you first met Simon, this would’ve never been the way you would've seen yourself with him. 

"Is that a promise?" You murmur, as you look up at him, trying to look for any form of doubt in his eyes. "A promise." Simon planted a kiss on your forehead. "When we're eighty-five and we've had a lifetime of adventures together, you'll be holding my crusty old hand and I'll be thinking you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

The gentle swaying stopped and you looked up at him again. His words made your heartbeat a little faster. 

"You have no idea how much I look forward to being eighty-five and being able to look back on the beautiful life we had together." You whispered.

"Growing old is a privilege and I'll be so happy to do it with you."

"You may have to wheel me around on a wheelchair because of how old I'll be." He chuckled. "You'll be as beautiful as you are now."

And I could never get bored of you. I wonder what you'd look like with grey hair and wrinkles, never losing that beauty you radiate.

"I would gladly wheel you around." You laughed softly, picturing it all in your head. "I'll use your lap as a personal seat every time I get tired."

A brief moment of quiet before you started to speak again. "You'll always be the most handsome man to me."

His lips curled upwards. "I'd love anything if I could be with you."

His hands shifted from the small of your back, sliding up to your hips as he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips caressed yours, lingering longer than you would think needed.

"I want to wake up every morning and see your face in the bed beside me for the rest of our lives."

You took a deep breath, letting his sweet words linger in the air. "What did I ever do to deserve you." You whispered softly as you kissed him again. "Hmm, I think it was just sheer luck and destiny that I got to meet someone quite as amazing as you." Simon squeezed you against his body, letting his hands drift upward, back to the small of your back again. 

"I want to make happy memories with you, live out my dreams by your side. Whatever life throws at us, I don't think we'd mind if we had each other."

There is something so adorable about him, and you know that he is trying so hard to find his own spot in the military, and you also know that he is risking it all by dancing with you like this, with holding you like this, and that makes the whole thing all the better.

His large hands go to cup your face, and he looks you into your eyes, almost immediately making your breath hitch. “Tomorrow, when we are on that mission together, I want you to stay in my direct line of sight.” Simon murmured, just soft enough to hear. “I’m serious, I don’t want to worry how you’re doing, okay?’

It is tempting to argue about it, even though you’ve had this conversation with him before, you’re not a child, you do not need to be babied, but at the same time.. It is hard to put your foot down when he is looking at you like that. 

Like you’re the sun, the moon and the stars all at the same time. 

“Fine.”

And Simon couldn’t be happier. He got to protect his whole world. 

His hands give your ass a teasing squeeze, there is so much that he would like to say to you, there is so much more that he would like to do, but he needs you well rested for the mission tomorrow. It doesn’t matter that it is just routine, he has come close to losing you once, he is not going to risk it again. 

“Get some sleep.” He ordered, trying to be stern. “I need my soldiers to be in the best shape.”

Of course you knew that it would be best to get some sleep, to call it an early night. But who could blame you for trying to stay a little longer with him? 

“Oh come on!” You protest, not really wanting to pout, but that might just do the trick, your chest pressed against his, trying to get him to stay a little longer. 

And Simon had to bite his cheek, as there was nothing he would've loved to do more than to pull you closer, to let you feel how hard you’re making him. 

But your safety comes first, no matter how turned on you’re making him. 

“Maybe you can stay for the night?” You add in a soft whisper, your lips close to his ear, trying to ignite the fire inside of him. 

And dear God, Simon is just a simple man. 

He gives your ass another squeeze. Taking a deep breath to compose himself. 

“You’re being too cheeky for your own good.” Simon grumbled. “But we’re sleeping apart, and that’s final.”

He would've loved to sleep next to you, in fact, he wouldn’t want to do anything else. But he knew that the moment he got under the covers, feeling your body against his, he would be a goner, and he would do nothing more than keep you up at night. And God forbid that something would happen to you because you’re too tired to focus. Simon had seen too many losses to take risks like that. 

So his nose brushes against your jawline as he is breathing you in. It wouldn’t be fair to be selfish, he knows that he has so many more moments like these with you, yet he can’t stop himself from savouring the moment. 

Simon finally pulls back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Go on then, before I change my mind.”