#coffeeshop chats

[dragonnarrative-writes]

If you were to pick, who out of the 141 do you reckon is genuinely kind? Whatever that looks like for you ♥️

Oh, this is such a good question, Anon!

I think... Ghost would be the most kind. I imagine he's certainly not the nicest person to be around. I think he'd be jumpy, suspicious, stand-offish and more than a little rude, if he's not thinking about it. But I like to think that he's thoughtlessly kind. Little things like holding doors and elevators, but also things other people might not think of.

He's a big guy, so I imagine he knows which conference rooms have chairs that feel sturdy and don't have armrests. He makes sure to check with the bigger guy in admin before reserving it to make sure their meetings aren't conflicting with each other.

Fluorescent lights hurt his eyes and can trigger migraines. So when he sees that there's going to be a meeting with that private who's always wincing, he dims the lights in that room as he passes, even if he's not in the meeting himself. (He's been asking admin for lamps, but someone higher up the chain is dragging their feet.)

He keeps anti-nausea tabs and ginger candies on himself for flights. He doesn't get nauseated anymore, but sometimes privates (and sergeants) do. Especially after a fire fight, especially if they've lost someone. He's not gonna offer a shoulder to cry on, but he can at least make the flight less shitty.

Of all of them, I think he's the one to notice the little things that make other people uncomfortable and address them.

(I'm a Simon Has A Sweet Tooth truther. Always grabs the dessert in the canteen. I believe this man grabs candies from the bowls on people's desks. But if it's the last one, he always tilts the bowl back toward its owner, and only takes it if they have a refill ready. )

Thanks for asking!

[emry-stars-art]

I would buy like five million shark Andrew and jelly Neil plushies so I could place them on my bed and sit in the middle and just admire them

THEY ARE SO CUTE <33

No joke I want my room to become a shrine of your aus. Royal corner here, mer au corner there, stay where I can reach andreil over there, some free space for new ideas and my bed in the middle lmao

(PS I love Andrew “head bonking like a cat because I am a cat” Minyard. I definitely consider it his love language (both romantically and platonically. Just bonking everyone at that point. Why? Why not :D))

I literally have been considering learning how to sew/make plushies for the EXPRESS purpose of baby shark plushies you have No Idea 😂 I don't have the funds to start a new hobby at the moment unfortunately, but it seems like so much fun

BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH I just held onto this ask bc I wanted to keep reading it 🥹 it does mean so much that people like the aus lol they're so much fun and so special to me and I LOVE that you love them!!

[abbysbookbag]

Okay one of my friends over on IG and I have been brainstorming a Team Ambit coffeeshop AU and she wrote the first chapter of it so I had to share (after getting permission of course)! (There will be more chapters, we had too many ideas to throw around haha)

Can we be considered an officially established fandom now?? I feel like all the established fandoms have coffeeshop AUs

(p.s. y'all may get a Bar AU from me in the possible near future if I can focus on writing more than the second chapter)

[lillycoco]

I have to admit that it's been ages since I've posted anything here, but a lot has changed for me in the last few months and I'm slowly getting used to my new routine.

Nevertheless, I would like to know how everyone is doing!

Tell me how your day was, how your studies are going or just whatever you want to talk about!

Let's take a coffee and chat break together 💕☕️

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Hi, I intend for this to be very rude and offensive to anon. I fully expect hate for it. Kissy faces and all that.

Most people stick to petite girls in reader fiction because of racism and fatphobia. If anyone is actually curious about this, let me know and I'll expand. This post isn't about culture, though, this is about you, Anon.

Anon, just say that you're afraid to take up space. Just say that you can't relate to a fantasy of being loved no matter what. Just say you think fat bodies, soft bodies, big bodies, hairy bodies, bodies that aren't always squeaky clean and above reproach are unlovable. Just say that you think that anyone who isn't "the right kind of fat" doesn't deserve to even have the fantasy of being desirable.

Just say that your fantasy of any of these CoD men is that they are weak, insecure man-babies. Just say that you cannot fathom the idea that a man -EVEN A MADE UP, 100% FICTIONAL MAN - is capable of being secure enough in himself that he could love someone who takes up space. Just admit that your ideas of sex and sexuality are limited to what purity culture has deemed "acceptable" and the idea of seeing or BEING anything else fills you with shame and disgust.

Admit that you actively and loudly seek out content that fills you with disgust because you don't know how to focus on things that make you feel good. You can't stand to see other people having a good time because that means your good time isn't "special enough." You think that everything should cater to your world view because anything else makes you feel lost and (ironically) small.

You are never going to be happy trying to keep other people from being happy.

I know you mean good but fat girls can also break easily. I also don’t mean to sound rude or offend you but it’s rare for fat girls to be 6 foot, I know you might be fat and 6 foot but it’s pretty rare. I think most people stick to petite girls in cod stories because it would be scary if they gave reader their sweater and all the sudden reader fits or barely fits in it and it only works as a crop top on them. And please try to remember just because their fat doesn’t mean they aren’t clean fat girls bathe too and do their eyebrows too they aren’t slobs. Fat girls can break when they get laid and yes I believe they also will jiggle around in the process so please try to be mindful when bringing up cod guys with a fat girl

I do mean to be rude and offend you when I say that this is some of the stupidest shit I've ever had to read with my own two eyes. Get a hobby. If this is your hobby, go get a better one.

There's nothing scary about a tall fat woman who fits into the clothes of their partners (Or even doesn't fit? Like lmao?? What world are you living in where you think women have to be smaller than their partners?) and I genuinely think that you're an idiot if you think I need a reminder that fat women aren't slobs. Like not only from a 'are you fucking kidding me?' perspective but also I've never written a romance without at least one bathing scene in my life and I'm not about to start now. I'm sorry that you have fucked up biases about bodies but that has nothing to do with me.

ALSO women don't have to pluck their eyebrows or shave their body hair to be clean. Go unlearn all that shit and don't come back.

[vstheworld]

baby’s first shitty cappuccino art

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)

1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:

Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.

Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.

I stopped so they could have their little chat.

2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"

We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)

3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.

So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.

He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.

It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.

4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.

... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.

(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)

5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.

And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"

6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)

7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.

[hoe4sports]

The patterns in the wallpaper

A/N: A short piece, once again based off my own experiences. You can find more stories here.

Warning: Mentions of abuse, sensitive subjects, read with caution .

If you have struggled or struggles with the same things, please know that I’m always available for a chat. I care about you.

If you find yourself in a psychological emergency; please seek medical attention.

-

As a child, you weren’t really a child. In the surge of your mother’s impulsive decisions and explosive temperament, you suffered your fair share of the consequences. The consequences was piled up in your invisible backpack glued to your shoulder, and over the years; your backpack would get heavier and heavier.

At one point, the backpack was so heavy that you couldn’t get out of bed anymore. Your backpack was above your capacity leaving your attempts at standing up looking like a baby trying to walk for the first time.

The consequences of the imaginary backpack was there when you met Alexia. You met at a coffeeshop. It was the perfect romcom meeting. Alexia ran into you, and dropped her coffee on you. You had subconsciously met a few months earlier in a group therapy session for people dealing with anxiety and depression.

5th of November

One of the assets of Alexia was her face. Her face stood out to you, she didn’t look like she belonged in the room. Sure, mental illness and unwellness dosent have a spesfic look, but if you are attentive and willing to dive; you can see it in their eyes.

The thing about eyes is that it’s the only part of your body that you cannot lie with. Your eyes are like the windows to your soul, to your headspace. When you would look across the room, you would see people’s eyes. Most had drained eyes, eyes that looked like the had seen the most unforgiving of actions.

It was not like your eyes were any different. They were the same. Dull, sad, lost. There are a million ways to describe them, but the most fitting word would be gone.

Your eyes would brighten as the therapy went on. After having a few experiences with Alexia, the light had been sparked again. Like you were finally free to breathe. But, then you got the call.

“Your mother is sick, I don’t know how longs she has left”.

The light in your eyes were simply gone. Just like your mother stole your childhood, your innocence and your magic; she stole the light in your eyes and your adulthood.

It wasn’t the grieving of potentially losing your mother that had hit you. It was the grief of the loss of hope. The hope that one day, she might realise all her wrongs and try to do them right by apologising. That day looked further away than ever. It was just the tiny girl inside of you who were holding on to the hope of an apology like a child holds onto a helium balloon.

You laid in bed, sideways, facing the wall. The wall has patterns in it, carefully chosen by you and Alexia when you built your house a few years ago prior. The wallpaper is unique, you have never seen anything like it.

Alexia didn’t know it back then, but you wanted patterns on your side of the room for a reason. If you ever would spiral down into the state of mentality you had when you met Alexia, you would have something to look at.

10th of November

When your life came crashing down, a regular November night; you stared at the pattern in the wallpaper for hours. As Alexia’s soft snores fills the room bearing evidence of her trust that you are asleep: your eyes were wander to the wallpaper. Eyes heavy with sadness; but somehow also anger.

The anger lasts. It builds up. It turmoils into something bigger. Something heavier.

Anger for how your mother chose to run away from this world instead of dealing with the consequences of robbing your life before it had even begun. Anger for how she made things easier for herself. Anger for how the hope of an apology disappeared into thin air in sync with her existence.

“When i was 7, i would write my mami notes to tell her how sorry i was and how I wouldn’t mind if she gave me away to have someone better than me.”

Alexia looked at you with sadness in her eyes before wrapping her arms around you. The pair of you laying together, close to each other in totally silence and as different. Not a bad kind of different, but a healing kind of different.

“You didn’t deserve that.” Alexia whispers into the top of your head, while your face stares into the wallpaper. “I know” you respond.

25th of November

You don’t really know how to respond, or how to talk about your childhood. Your childhood had been taken out of your backpack after going to therapy for years. The consequences of your mother had been placed into a suitcase before it was thrown up to the loft. You simply forgot about it, for years. But one morning, the suitcase was back in your room filling you with grief of the life and the potential you were supposed to have.

“When I was a kid, my mom would ask me when I would go home again.” You whisper, the memory lingering in your head for a moment before the pattern of the wallpaper takes over again. “You didn’t deserve it, amor” Alexia whispers into your hair.

Alexia never tells you, but each time you share something about your childhood; her heart breaks for the person you were supposed to be. She tends to imagine what you would be like without the struggles,without the consequences of your mother. A part of her hopes that one day, you’ll have a little girl who will grow up to be just like you; but with two loving parents and a safe home.

Christmas is closing in, but you are still staring at the wall. You follow the pattern with your eyes: that’s all you have capacity to do. You never read, watch tiktoks or use your phone. You just stare at the wall, waiting for this to pass. The only issue is that this time; it won’t just pass. You haven’t realised it yet. But Alexia has, already having a list of the best private physiatrist that money could by ready for whenever your mind can hold two thoughts at the same time.

Alexia dosent push. She never does. She’s pacient. She’s consistent. She’s the most reliable asset you have had in the entirely of your life. She waits, and waits and waits; because she knows that one day you’ll be ready to move your gaze away from the wallpaper.

1st of December

“How is it today, amor?” Alexia asks. It’s the same question everytime she gets home from training. She’s just waiting for the day when you have an answer. “I don’t know” is your response. It’s always your response. Like your brain dosent have the ability to answer anything else.

Days become weeks, weeks become a month and a month became multiple months. Months of you laying in bed, waiting for it to get better. Months of you never leaving your bed for more than 5 minutes. Months of having the living room and kitchen being used by only one person.

Alexia is functioning for you, almost on your behalf. She opens your mail, books occasional doctors appointments over the phone, she brushes your hair and she brings you water with ice and a cut up apple every single morning before she leaves for practice. She dosent push it. She just leaves it infront of you.

When she has away games, she haves Alba over. Alba stays in the guest room, and she occasionally checks in on you. Never pressuring you, never making you feel bad. She understands the situation, and she wants to support her sister.

5th of December

Closing up to Christmas, Alexia is at practice tying her cleats. Mapi sits next to her watching as person after person disappears onto the pitch. When it’s only the pair of them left, she looks at Alexia.

“How’s y/n? She hasn’t been at any games this season” she wonders, the memory of you sitting next to her during her injury fresh in her mind.

“She’s alive, that’s all that matters” Alexia responds, quietly cleaning up her spot before getting ready to warm up. She clenches her jaw, not wanting to break in-front of her teammate.

Mapi smiles sadly at her understanding the severity of the situation. Ingrid went through the same thing when her grandmother died.

“I’ll get Ingrid to call her” Mapi says, not a tone of judgement in her voice.

“Anything helps” Alexia responds knowing that you and Ingrid created a special bond when Ingrid was injured. You went home to her and Mapi’s place to take care of her while Mapi went on the US tour with barca. That’s to your nature. Always taking care of others. Always attentive to others feelings.

On the drive home later that day, she dosen’t listen to music like she normally does. It’s quiet. She’s thinking. Her head is filled with worry, hoping that you will find it within you to recover again. Not because she wants you to or because she’s sick of caring for you; but because you deserve to live a life free of worry.

When she pulls up into the driveway, she sees the curtains are pulled in-front of the windows. She does it before she leaves, wanting to shield you from any media or fans. She trusts the fans, but not with you. You are fragile. A small tap, and you’ll break.

She grabs her phone and gets out of the car, walking the few meters to the entryway before locking herself in. Dinner is on her mind, perhaps salmon with pasta? You don’t eat much, but you eat pasta. If she just makes extra pasta, then she can put some pesto on it and have you eat just the pasta.

Her thoughts are spinning trying to find ways to help you without helping you. It’s exhausting, she thinks. Not caring for you, but watching you fade away until an empty shield of what you once were.

She takes off her shoes, and greets your golden retriever. He licks her hands, and wags his tail. Always so happy to see her. Her mind dosent understand how he can be happy of small things like pebble, squirrels and birds.

But then, at the corner of her eye. She sees movement. Her mind instantly brushes it off as the cat, but her curiosity gets the best of her. She rounds the corner, and her breathing stops. She stops in her tracks. Her jaw is on the floor. Her mind is empty. She’s at a loss of words.

Why?

That’s because in the kitchen, she sees you. For the first time since mid October; you look alive again. Like the color has come back into your face. Like the spark in your eyes has returned.

Out of bed, freshly showered in her Barca joggers and a hoodie cooking.

She thinks it’s a dream.

It’s not. You smile at her before pointing to the pot in-front of you.

“I made soup" you say, stirring the caserole of sweetpotato soup.

Alexia’s face soften and her lips smiles

She dosent know what to say.

You embrace her, and look her into her eyes.

She doesn’t know why, how or when Ingrid called you. But, she knows that her patience paid off.

“I love soup” Alexia responds.

7th of December

But the thing about the wallpaper, is that it’s quite the trickster. One day out of bed costs a lot more than the stamina you’ve had since getting familiar with the wallpaper a few months ago.

The wallpaper draws you in again, and for the next few weeks you lay in bed facing the wallpaper. There isn’t a singular emotion in your face. Apathy.

Christmas is closing in. It has always been your favourite holiday. You didn’t love holidays as a child, fearing the consequences of having to be with your mother’s unreliable emotions for en extended period of time.

But Christmas is different. Christmas reminds you of your grandparents. It reminds you of coming to their house, and helping your grandpa with getting the boxes of Christmas decorations from the loft.

The loft has a special smell. It’s usually not a pleasant smell, but you love the smell. It reminds you of nostalgia. It feels safe.

Nobody expects you to feel safe at your mother’s. After all, you would spent all weekends and all holidays at your grandparents. Neglected from your mother’s love and attention.

Perhaps, a part of her passing is knowing that she will never apologise. There will never come a day where she realises her mistakes, and takes responsibility for her actions. Instead, the little girl inside you has to take responsibility of her actions. It drags you down. It feels heavy.

The memory of begging your mom to change her was is still fresh in your mind. A picture of you sitting in your bedroom, tears rolling down your face while brainstorming how to get your mother to change. Maybe if you were just a little nicer? A little more helpful? A little less annoying?

“I wish I could get my mom to change her ways, maybe she would finally care about me?” you whisper out. That’s all you do these days. Whisper. Alexia holds you from behind, her arms wrapped around you like you are some fragile kitten. “The truth is that that no child can save her mother” Alexia hums, gently kissing the top of your head.

11th of December

Alexia’s patience never runs out. She waits. She happily waits for you to find your way out of the maze you have been pulled into. It’s not like you walked into the maze yourself, you were put there against your will.

It’s trial and error. Walking tirelessly to find your way out of your brain. The only thing she can do is wait. You stare at the wallpaper, and she waits. That’s how the days are going by. You stare, and stare and stare. She’s talked to her mami about it, and she supports the wait. It hurts Alexia’s mami to know that you were treated badly by your own birtggiver. She could never imagine doing something neglectful to her own children.

Alexia knows it’s not your fault, any of it really. She knows that you were supposed to be cared for. Loved. Held. But you didn’t get that. You had to figure it out yourself. It’s confusing for a little girl.

The situation confusing for everyone. Patri dosent understand why you aren’t there.

“Why isn’t your girl around anymore? Did you piss her off again?” She jokes.

“No, my wife is sick” she responds, not wanting to shine more light on your situation. She has decided that this is a private matter.

"Sick of you? or of football?" she jokes back. The room is now quiet. Awfully quiet. It’s an unwritten truth that they don’t joke about you. Mapi and Ingrid knows. Caroline and Marta too. Even Fridolina knows about your struggles.

Alexa clenches her jaw, trying her best to cool her anger. Pina tries to get Patri to cut it out, but for some reason; she dosent understand that it’s a serious matter.

“For fucks sake Patri, my wife is sick. Her mother that abused her for years had passed. She’s struggling. Can you leave me and my wife alone?” Alexia snaps, banging her cubby shut before marching out of the room.

Everyone looks at Patri. “Why did you do that?” Ingrid snaps, Patri just shrugges. “I didn’t know she was sick, I was just asking a question!”

Mapi looks at Patri.

“Read the fucking room.”

17th of December

The last game of the year, Alexia forgets her cleats. She had bought new ones after throwing away her old ones. The new ones were bright pink. Nike mad brilliance. Alexia didn’t really want bright pink, but they had the exact same colour as the top you wore on your first date, and the thought of your smile when you would see the cleats with the explanation; that convinced her.

A member of staff offers to go home for her, and get them; but she dosent want to. Even though she needs to eat with the team and do the pre game meeting. No matter how tired, she’s never willing to expose you at your most vulnerable state.

She says her goodbyes before sprinting to the car. Her luck has ran out, and there is traffic making her later than anticipated. The rain is pouring down, making cars drive slower. Her knowledge on the neighbourhoods in Barcelona are to a T after living there for many years. She makes shortcuts before finally pulling up to your street.

The houses passes by. Neighbours like the Ramirez where you would have bbqs and miss Talia where you would be invited for cookies reminds her of better days. Not just how things were a few months ago, but it reminds her of what’s to come when you find yourself back again. When you find your way out of the patterns in the wallpaper. It’s what’s ahead that’s important.

The better days.

Christmas is conveniently here. It adds to the traffic. Normally your house would be all dolled up by now, Christmas gifts and bright lights everywhere. The good old improvised wrapping station you would make taking over Alexia’s office. Normally, she would pretend to be annoyed by it. But, the truth is that she misses it. She misses walking along side you when you try to find this year’s wrapping paper theme. She always pretend to be annoyed by it, but she promises herself that next year; when you feel better, she’ll never complain.

When she pulls up to the house, it’s dark inside. It’s comforting knowing that you haven’t left the house. She knows that you wouldnt do anything dumb, but in the back of her mind the worry of how your mind taking over your rationality lingers.

With quick steps, she moves inside. Your dog greets her in the hallway, like he always does. He’s happy. His butt wiggling from side to side. She’s smiles softly spending a minute petting him, giving him kisses and belly rubs.

“Alexia? Can I come with you to the game?”

Alexia’s eyes widen. It’s like she can’t comprehend what is happening in front of her. You are standing there. Hair done, makeup on. A pair of jeans with her jersey on your upper body.

“Uh” is all she can say.

You laugh softly at her.

Your laugh. She can’t remember when she last heard you laugh before. She’s not sure what to say. If this is a surge or if you are actually feeling better. She separates her lips to speak, it words dosent come out.

You look at her.

She looks at your eyes.

Then she sees it. The sparkle is back. It’s not huge, like a few years ago, yet it’s there. A small twinkle.

“Ale, I think I’m feeling better. I’m gonna talk to the psychiatrist tomorrow”

She smiles, then she nods.

Her frame crashes into yours. Her arms wraps around you, hiding your head in her neck. She can’t remember the last time she hugged you standing up. But she’s grateful.

“My love for you is endless, princesa”

.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

im gonna be honest, I keep rereading pt 3 and 4 of the slasher handler and fantasising about how incredibly sexy it would be if kyle acquired a handler of his own by accident or on purpose and he finally understands simon's obsession now 😵‍💫

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Kyle and Simon aren't friends, per se. They only met through Johnny, because Johnny is sloppy and impulsive and never knows how to clean up his own messes. It's offensive to Kyle's meticulous nature and, apparently, appeals to Simon's need for a pet.

Since Johnny's been serving time for the last nine months, with nine months to go (sloppy work, he's lucky Kyle was able to clean things up), Simon's gone to ground. Every now and then, news of his work pops up. Once, one of the victims had ended up at the hospital Kyle works at.

"The Ghost Killer strikes again! Ah...! Run...!" Kyle had muttered to himself, taking the unconscious young man's rapidly fading vitals. They'd found him in an abandoned building, an old hospital well outside of Simon's usual territory. Which means something has changed.

That evening, sipping a beer, he'd called Price on his burner.

"What can I do for you, Kyle?"

"Just letting you know that your dog is out of the yard. The big one, not the terrier," Kyle answers with a smile. "He left behind a bit of a mess, but there was only one little rabbit left suffering. I handled it."

Price had hummed on the other end. "I saw the news. 'S not like him. I'll check in." And then he'd hung up.

Months later, and Kyle finally has an answer when he catches Simon trailing behind a woman not once but three times. He's surprised to see her face, an old classmate and the justification for his second ever human kill. He's almost sad to know that she's been marked for death. When he hears about the Ski Lodge massacre and the Ghost copycat, he has a drink in her honor.

So it's a surprise when she reaches out to him online and asks to meet.

She's frazzled and wild-eyed when she sits in the chair across from him. She's also wearing one of Simon's beanies. And when she reveals what Simon's been up to, he can't help but laugh.

Simon - the weird, off-putting, murderous Ghost - has somehow managed to find the one person in the world who devotes herself to a project more than him. The Final Girl Girlfriend.

They're both doomed.

Kyle begins the painstaking process of reviewing his daily journals for mentions of Simon and their shared connections. It's very unlikely that Simon would be caught alive, and even more unlikely that he'd say anything about Kyle or Johnny or Price. But unlikely isn't impossible, so it's important to start getting his stories straight now.

Reviewing, flagging, and annotating his journals from his initial meeting with Johnny to now takes a month and three days. It's always an interesting process, looking at his life with the advantage of hindsight. There's always a new fascinating pattern to examine. For example, that first summer, he'd meet with Johnny every other week, and two and six days later, he'd gradually step up a patient's blood thinners.

Another pattern that's emerged is that he hasn't dated anyone for more than 35 days in the last three years. That's about as long as it takes for his exacting nature to become... a conflict. It's not much of a problem. He's a nurse, he works long hours. He's got a gym routine and volunteers at the local pet rescue once a week. He's a part of the community, so he doesn't stick out as a loner. But he's also solidly at a point in his life where someone would expect him to have a partner.

He makes an online dating profile. It takes a week for him to delete the app.

"Darlene," he greets the head nurse with a smile and her favorite coffee at the beginning of his next shift. "How are you today?"

"Kyle." As always, she barely glances at him, just holds out her hand for her drink. "You're early. What do you want?"

She's right, he's thirty minutes early. He grins. "You wound me. Can't I just want to know how a beautiful woman is doing?"

Darlene gives him a blank look over the top of her bifocals. "Save it for the maternity ward, Garrick. What do you want?"

"Just wanna know the lay of the land," he says, coming around the desk and taking the seat next to her. He likes Darlene because she only expects him to be coy for a short time. "Been on the apps, trying to date. But my hours make things difficult. You know everybody's business. How is anyone in a relationship around here?"

"The surgeons are all on meth, the rest of the doctors are on coke, and the nurses are either fucking each other or their high school sweethearts," Darlene says, dry as a desert. "You know this already. What do you actually want?"

"That's it," he says with a shrug. "Just want to know who's not seeing anyone, or if you know of someone at another campus with the time."

She takes a sip of her coffee and thinks for a moment. "Stay off the psych and plastics floors. Maternity floor's about to get a whole new batch since all of those idiots got pregnant within three months of each other. But there's something in the water up there, so unless you also want a baby, I'd say leave them alone."

"James is on the maternity floor," Kyle points out.

"James cheated on his boyfriend and his side piece with another nurse," Darlene points out, settling into her coffee and gossip. "Which is another reason to stay away from plastics, but also trauma and rads. I didn't know you were bisexual."

"Doesn't come up much," Kyle dismisses, sipping his own coffee.

By the time Kyle has to clock in, they've explored the pros and cons of almost every department. The prospects are pretty grim. Maybe being single isn't the worst thing in the world.

He makes a point of spending time with the other nurses for the next month. He goes out for drinks and karaoke, attends a couple of baby showers. Lets on to a couple of gossips that he's looking, tells another that he's not sure he has time to date. Enjoys the conclusion of a project when a racist old bastard finally has the heart attack he can't bounce back from.

And then the nurse coroner flags the death for investigation.

Kyle doesn't panic because technically all deaths in the hospital are investigated. But he is intrigued. His own notes show that the patient's condition was well within the expected parameters of recovery and relapse. His medications were administered appropriately while Kyle was on shift, and the hydrogen peroxide added to his IV would have been nigh undetectable.

In the end, the hospital is not determined to be at fault for the death, and that's all that administration cares about. But the cause of death is changed from heart attack to embolism in the record, and that is intriguing.

"Knock knock," Kyle says, poking his head into the office area of the morgue. He expects to see Dennis, the older gentleman running the morgue unit, who waves back at him. He doesn't expect the new face, sitting across the desk from him.

"Good morning, Kyle," Dennis greets, waving him in. "Been a bit since you've come to see us. Care for some tea?"

"Can't," Kyle says, apologetically. "Just dropping someone off."

"Well, at least let me introduce our new nurse!"

The new nurse gives him a no-nonsense handshake and a nod. They don't say much beyond their name, and Kyle is pleased to put a face to the name on the investigation into his last project. He wasn't exaggerating when he said he couldn't stay long, so he says his goodbyes.

But when his next completed project is flagged for investigation again, he decides that maybe it's time to take an interest.

[sparklingblu]

Pulse

Sohyun X Xinyu

P.S: I'm trying a new style of writing here.

- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

There's something calm and comforting about the crowded coffeeshop. The hissing of the espresso machine, the bustle of human conversation, the clinking of ceramic cups - they all seem to blend together to create a new yet totally familiar world. That's the reason I've come here. To be swallowed by this background noise and extract myself from reality if just for a moment.

I sit in my usual corner, my elbow against a cup of cappucino which has long since gone cold and a textbook opened but largely ignored. I have read the same line for the last thirty minutes but none of it seems to stick. I'm too distracted by the noise and my own thoughts, adrift in this place.

University is supposed to be a place where you "find yourself" but I seem to have lost my sense of direction as soon as I step my foot here. Everyone around me seems so sure of what they are doing, raised chests and energetic steps. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to keep my head down, pretending like I belong while I don't even know who I am yet.

Outside, the leaves are just starting to turn yellow - the afternoon light casting a lazy red glow on them. It's the start of a new season though I barely feel like anything have changed in this new life I'm settling into. It's just a struggle to fit in from day to day.

I bring my lips to the rim of my cofee cup, grmiacing as the bitter taste washes over me. It doesn't come as a surprise. The only reason people come here is for the atmosphere - to mingle and jingle . The cofee is just a necessity to stay.

I glance at the moving world from my seat near the window. A steady flow of students rush past the platfrom on the otherside, their laughter echoing through the glass. It's as if they know a secret I have yet to understand.

I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles, retreating into the soft fabric. Nearby, my phone buzzes with a notification from a group chat that I never have been a part of. I don't bother to check and it becomes one of the many sounds that fills the place.

I used to think university would be different - a total contrast to my mundane high school life. That I'd step into the place and everything will click into place. Like the rest of my life have been a prelude to this. But here I am. Already chickening out in the first week.

I chug down the remainder of my cold coffee, shove my books into the bag and was about to leave when a burst of cool air sweeps through the place, followed by the jingle of the bell above the door. And I happen to be one of those people who instictively gawk at the newcomer.

There she is, waltzing into the room like she owns it. The energy of the outside world seems to radiate from her body. There's nothing loud or brash about her but she draws attention anyway - an easy confidence that ripples through the place. She brushes a stray strand of hair our of her face, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

She stands out naturally,moving as if she's utterly home in her skin, in this place. It's the kind of self-insurance that seems totally foregin to me. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in her shoes. Not like I will have a chance. She's everything I'm not.

Her hair is slightly tousel, falling in loose waves that looks almost intentional. She's wearing a plain white shirt, its crispiness a total contrast to her slouch jeans.

She orders a cofee - espresso, no sugar- and while she waits, she cracks a joke at the waiteress, painting her cheeks red. All this time, my eyes linger on her with a strange sort of fascination, watching like she's the only form of enteratinment I have had in a long time. And it's true in a way.

She takes the plastic cup and the change from the waiteress with a smile. She turns and that's when the trouble starts. I have expected her to leave as swiftly as she has come. Someone like her probably have more important businesses than slothing around.

Her eyes dart around the café and it takes me a moment to realize she's looking for a seat. So she's staying. But luck doesn't seem to be on her side today beacaue every single seat has been occupied. Well, except..

"Hey" she says, and it's casual, like we have been friends forever. "Mind if I sit there?"

She's gesturing at the seat across from mine, which I have strategically left empty to create a distance between me and everything else. I hesistate a tad bit too long before I response.

"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.

She sits, sliding the cup of coffee on the table with a soft thud. I have expected her to pull out a phone or do anything a stranger sharing a table with another stranger would do. But instead, she leans back and scans the room before her eyes come to rest on me.

"I have seen you before" she speaks, offering a slight smile as if she can read my thoughts.

I blink, caught off-guard. No 'hello' s. No 'hi' s. Straight to the point.

"Have you?" I say, sounding awfully stiff.

"Yeah. You have been in the same corner for the last week. You come here a lot?" She sips her coffee, eyes still on me.

I shrug. "Not always. But yeah. It's quiet"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the packed café. "Quiet?" she repeats, half laughing. "Compared to the dining hall, perhaps"

Just then, I realize how rudiculous I must sound. "Well, not today" I admit, lowering my gaze back to the books. "But usually"

She laughs again, but not mockingly so. "I get where you are coming from. Sometimes, it's good to be alone even though you are not truly alone" She couldn't have worded it better.

"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.

A brief silent passes between us. She sips from her cup again. If the cappucino here is strong, I can't imagine what espresso would taste like. But she shows no sign of distaste.

"So, what do you study?" she asks, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

"Literature" I answer, shifting in my seat. For some reason, talking about my major always make me feel like I'm giving something away. Like I'm exposing myself.

"Ahhh Literature" She repeats the word, as if she's trying to decipher its meaning. "That must be....intense. Lots of complicated story about lots of different stuffs"

I nod, still unsure where she's headed. "I guess so. It's more about trying to understand them through their words. Deep fry your brain sometimes"

She huffs. "I can imagine. That's why I try to understand them through their heads, it's less exhausting that way. I'm in psych"

That makes sense. She has this way of speaking, as if she knows what the other party will say before they even open their mouths. But at the same time, respecting their boundaries.

I'm still trying to think of a valid response when she lifts her cup and stare at the remaining coffee like she's studying it. Then her gaze lifts back to me, eyes bright.

"You know, espresso reminds me of people"

I blink, surprised at the strange comparison. "Espresso? Why?"

She beams, leaning in. "Espresso's small right? Concentrated. If you take a sip, there's this rush - sharp and intense. It hits you so intensely that if you are not prepared, it can be overwhelming"

She takes a sip, as if giving me time to register her words. "But if you take it in bit by bit, the taste changes. The bitterness mellows out and you can feel each layer of richness underneath"

I stare at her, my tired brain struggling to understand what she's implying. Why espresso, out of all things?

She leans back and continues. "People are like that. Emotions, life, they come at you in the most unexpected times - swift, chaotic. Sometimes it can be too much to handle. But if you give it some times, let it breathe, you start to see the little parts that makes it up. That's when you start to discover yourself"

I can't help but smile. "You have thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with espresso"

"Not the one here, I hope"

She smiles, instantly getting what I'm implying. It seems she's a regular customer too. "You gotta work with what you have. But you get the point"

"So....people are like espresso? Is that why you study them?" I question as she finishes up the last few drops of her coffee. This girl really likes espresso.

"Exactly" she snaps. I'm not sure if she's joking here. "It has always been my dream to do a thesis on espresso and emotions"

"Are you....?" I drift off and she bursts into laughter.

I feel the slightest hint of joy, like by asking that stupid question, I have contributed to her amusement in some way.

"Serious? No way. I'm not risking my degree for my unhealthy addiction. The last person I explained this to leave the table as soon as I'm done"

"Well, I'm still here"

Does it sound too cheesy?

"I can see that" She glances at the clock on the wall, frowning slightly. "I should get going. I have a class to prepared for"

I nod, feeling that familiar twist that comes with endings. "Right. Of course"

She stands, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you" she says, her voice warm. "You can call me Sohyun"

"Xinyu" I reply. It sounds so much easier to say my name now.

"Xinyu" She lets the word roll off her tongue. "I like it"

"Thanks" She's already walking to the door when I response.

With one last glance, she re-enters the reality outside of this comforting bubble. I feel a strange sense of anticipation, like the conversation I just had have dropped some hint to solve this puzzle called life.

Sohyun and Espresso and People.

How peculiar.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The walk back across the campus was pleasant. The scene that welcomes me when I enter my room is not.

As I enter, I'm greeted by the familiar chaos of Yooyeon's world - clothes draped over the chair, a half eaten bag of snacks spilling out on the desk and music playing softly in the background. The mess have become such an essential part of the space that without it, you doubt you will recognize the room.

Yooyeon looks up from her bed, where she's lounging with her phone. She's dressed causual with a twist as usual - an oversized grey t-shrit with the words "You Shall Not Pass" emblazoned across the front and swetpants of the same color. As soon as she notices me, an infectious grin spreads across her face

"Xinyu! You are back!" She exclaims, eyes bright. "Did you finally make a friend or are you still on a first name basis with the library?"

"Ha ha. Very funny" I retort sarcastically as I shove my bag on the bed. "But yeah. I guess so"

She immediately sits up, her attention solely on me. "Wait, what? For real?"

I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. That's the thing about Yooyeon. It's like she has her own respirator of dopamine. Always on her feet. Not a hint of worry in those blue eyes.

"Her name's Sohyun. We met at the café" I answer, keeping my tone casual. One wrong octave and Yooyeon would immediately detect it.

"Ooooh, a café conversation, huh? Sounds like the opening to a great novel" She laughs, flopping back down to her bed. "What did you two talk about?"

I shrug, though I have anticipated the question. "Just espresso and....people"

Yooyeon grins even wider. "Don't tell me you spill your heart out. Cuz that would be really really-"

"It's nothing like that" I quickly interrupt. "It was just small talk. She's really easy to talk to"

"Easy is good. You need easy" Yooyeon bounces off her bed and start rummaging through her cupboard box of numerous books and posters. It has been a week and she still hasn't bothered to arrange her stuffs.

Not a moment sooner, she pulls out two bright blue mugs. "We should celebrate your burgeoning social life. I have got hot chocolate mix somewhere"

I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"

"Impossibly fun" Yooyeon winks as she pours the hot chocolate mix into the mugs and adds some hot water, the steam curling up. "You are on your way to becoming a social butterfly. Next thing you know, you will be hosting literary salons"

"Sure. After I finish this semester's readings" I reply lightly though the idea terrifies me.

Yooyeon hands me the steaming mug with a triumphant grin. "Here's to new friends and the magic of coffee! If you ever need a social coach to take you on this emotional espresso journey, I'm always available"

I take the mug from her, the warmth of it seeping into my palms. "No thanks"

"Aww come on. I can be the Ron to your Harry. Or the Peeta to your Katniss. Wait, nevermind. That's not a good idea" Yooyeon says, never failing to showcase her obsession with fiction. If Sohyun wants to do a thesis on espresso, Yooyeon would probably make one on Hunger Games. But her dream is closer to being a reality, given how she's in media studies.

"Isn't that the guy....who got like brainwashed or something?" I try to recall the memoies of the movie from time immemorial.

"Yeah. Poor Peeta..." Yooyeon says with a dreamy tone before she brings the mug to her lips.

"Fuck! It's hot" She yelps, immediately recoiling and almost spilling the hot drink.

"Who? Peeta?" I ask.

"No. The hot chocolate. Wait, no. I mean yes. Peeta, not this god awful drink" Yooyeon says while she furiously fans her mouth.

I can't help the chuckle that escape my lips. "I have always liked that Gale guy better"

Yooyeon's eyesbrow knit at my remark. And I already know a debate is headed my way.

"For starters,..."

And so it begins. I participate anyway although I know Yooyeon would win in the end as she always does. I'm not geeky enough for this.

But it doesn't matter. Because she's the only friend I have for now. Debating on fictional man not to be the odd one out doesn't seem so bad of a trade.

Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

I'm up early the next morning. The kind of early that makes the world feels like it's still deciding whether or not it should go back to sleep. I look at the bedside clock - 5:55 am. Ha. I beat the alarm today.

Soft gray light shines through a hatch between the curtains, the world outside still enshrouded in the morning mist. All is quiet except for the occasional footsteps and soft snores of Yooyeon , whose face is half buried in the pillow. I smile, knowing she won't be up for at least an hour. The girl's have been up all night finishing an assignment.

I shiver slightly as the cool air grazes my skin when I pull the covers off. The mornings are getting colder, the first hints of autumn sneaking in. And it means I will have a harder time exiting the warm embrace of my sheets.

The chill in the air clings to me as I head towards the common bathroom. The hallways are empty at this time of the day. Not much early risers here. This building, Bradford Hall, is one of the older dorms on the campus. The floors creak with each step I take and the white paint on the wall have faded with age. For no reason, the place indulges a sense of legacy in me. Like I'm a part of something greater. Maybe it's the smell of chamomile that always hangs in the air.

The walk to the bathroom doesn't take long since my room's on the first floor. There's no burden of stairways. It takes five minutes tops for me to clean up - brush my teeth, wash my face and a couple arrangement of my messy hair that will stay the same way after. I still don't understand how some people manage to spend hours in the bathroom. Making yourself presentable shouldn't be that hard.

When I come back to the room, Yooyeon has tossed over, almost draping off the bed and murmuring something that sounds like a spell. She might be visiting middle-earth, Hogwarts and god knows where.

I cross over to my side of the room, the territory determined by an imaginary line Yooyeon have drawn on the first day. The room is barely big enough for two twin beds, a couple desks and a shared closet. My space is plain, simple. Almost empty except for the small lamp and the stack of books. It works fine by me.

Yooyeon's, however, is a total contrast. Her walls are covered with posters of whatever fictional book or movie you cam name. Not to mention the figurines that line her desk. "They give me motivation" Yooyeon has said. In my opinion, I wouldn't want an inch tall Darth Vader monitoring me all night. I bet Yooyeon would consider that 'hot' too.

I rummage through my closet without any initial dress code in mind. There isn't a need to worry. People wouldn't be up yet. There's no one to impress. I decide to go simple pulling on a bright blue sweater over my shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. I slip on my worn-out sneakers, their familiar creaks greeting me. After a glance in the mirror, I decide to let my loose locks fall freely. I grab my bag and leave, careful not to wake Yooyeon, who's on the brink of falling off the bed.

The campus seems almost unrecognizable at this time of the day - the morning light bathing it in a warm glow that makes everything looks like it belongs to a painting. The air is still, undisturbed by the usual hustle of students. I take a deep breath as I make my way down the brick path.

The clues of autumn are scattered here and there - the air crisp and the leaves tinged with green and yellow like they haven't decided their favorite color yet. To my left, the towering main library roses like a cathedral, fog clinging to its ebony walls. The arched windows reflecting the sun rays.

Further down, the old lecture halls rise up on either sides of the path. They look like relics from the ancient past, a time unbeknownst. The ivy covered walls adding into its timelessness.

They weren't joking about this place being 'old'.

Ahead, the dining hall comes into view, no less younger than its confidants. With the dark wood beams and the high ceiling, it looks almost like a castle. The stone steps leading to the entrance are worn smooth by countless steps and the wooden doors, though thoroughly polished, creaks slightly as I push them open.

Inside, the place is most empty, save for a couple students scattered around. The smell of coffee and pastries fill the air, comforting in a way that makes me want to stay for hours. I grab a tray, throws on a couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. My morning appetite have never been impressive.

I takes my usual place near one of the stained glass windows, spots of light showering on the table. I love this place. It's quiet and peaceful. Maybe except when Yooyeon's accompanying me.

I'm haflway through a cheese sandwich when the door swing opens.

Sohyun.

She walks in with a group of friends, at least five of them, talking and laughing. Their energy seemingly announcing they belong here.

Sohyun's dressed in almost the same way at our first meeting - a loose white shirt and cargos. And she strides across the hall with the same confidence from that day.

I didn't mean to stare but my eyes follow her, weaving through tables with her friends trailed behind. Like maybe our encounter was an interlude to something more.

I know I should go back to my sandwhich but when the soul craves, the body has to suffice. She turns my way just for a split second and without thinking, I give her a small smile. It's nothing special, really - just a 'Hey. I remember you from yesterday' kind of smile.

But Sohyun's eyes sweep over me as if I'm not even there and soon, she's swept up with her friends again, laughing at something they said.

It stings. Though it has no reason to. It's like a tiny blow that leaves you off-balance but not strong enough to knock you off your feet. Before I even realize it, my lips have pursed into a tight line and I'm already staring down at the unfinished plate of sandwiches. Maybe, yesterday was just a fever dream.

I didn't expect much, really. A nod, a wave, a smile - a sign of acknowledgement. Anything. I tell myself not to care. It's rudiculous to yearn for approval from someone you shared a coffee table with. But I can't help the cold weight settling in my chest.

I glance up at her again. She's still at the counter, taking her sweet time choosing her breakfast. The way she holds herself is so natural, like she belongs anywhere she goes. I envy that about her. I have always been needed to prove to earn a place in society while she just waltz through everything without a care.

Why is it bothering me so much?

Maybe I should be grateful for her brief cameo in my life. Or maybe it would have been better if we never met. Then she will just be another student who comes to eat breakfast. Not Sohyun.

But now, it's infecting me.

I take a sip of my orange juice, focusing on the cold liquid that wash down my throat. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's jst a stupid plea for attention. It doesn't matter. I have always been good at finding meanings in small thing but sometimes, small things are just......small. There's no more meaning to them than what they are.

Maybe that's all this is.

I watch her from the corner of my eyes as she settles down at a table with her friends, her laughter ringing out across the hall again. And for a momet, I almost want to laugh. Not because anything is funny but beacause how easily she moves through the world, through life.

And how easily she has forgotten me.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Over the next week, autumn have crept in like a quiet exhale. The trees have turned amber and yellow, their leaves falling in slow spiral onto tbe brick paths. The air has become sharp enough to sting my skin when I go out. It's the season of change, like people say. But this year, there's something unsettling about the sudden shift. Like I'm not ready for new beginnings.

Most of my time is spent surrounded by books and notes. Despite the constant pressure, it's nice to finally have a rhythm to life again. The rhythm that my fear of rejection have indulged. I have recovered quick and Sohyun has faded into nothing but another human whose life happen to cross ways with mine.

It's nothing to dwell on.

I sit at my desk, my table lamp casting a faint glow on the pages of 'Jane Eyre'. The word file opened on my laptop is still in the same state as it has been in the last hour - celan and empty. The syllables for the essay due tonight doesn't seem to be manifesting anytime soon.

I tap my fingers idly on the edge of the desk, glancing at the clock. It's nearly midnight now. The campus has gone still save for the ocassional laughter and footsteps of latecomers from the corridor. Peaceful. Quiet. But still not helping me collect my scattered thoughts.

I'm about to give up for the night and go to bed when the door suddenly flies open with a buest of energy and Yooyeon, in all her chaotic glory, stumbles into the room. She's panting, yet she has this wide grin plastered on her face.

I look up from my desk, startled by the sudden enteance. "Hey"

"Hey" she says, plopping down on the bed. "Guess what?"

I raise an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever dramatic new she has to deliver. "What?"

"Yeonjun wants me to meet him at one of those fancy clubs. And he asked me to bring a friend" She grins even wider. "Guess who that friend's gonna be"

I blink. "Not me"

Yooyeons gives me a look, the kind that says she's not giving up until I give in. "Yes, you. Come on, Xinyu. You have been locked up here for so long. You need to get out"

"I've been studying" It's not enitirely a lie but it's not the truth either.

But Yooyeon's having none of it. "Studying, hiding, same difference. You are coming with me. Plus, it will be fun. Who know? Maybe you will even find a cute boy" She winks, then whispers. "Or a girl"

I'm not quick enough to surpress the blush that creeps up my cheek. "Yooyeon!"

"What? Don't tell me you still can't forget Ms. Espresso"

"This has nothing to do with her" To my surprise, my voice comes out shrill. "I'm just-"

"Blah blah blah. More excuses" Yooyeon cuts me off. "Come on, Xinyu. You will be doing me a huge favour. Yeonjun thinks I have no friends"

"You do have friends"

"Yeah. But no one would be available this late. And I'd rather go with you. You are....less dramatic"

Despite myself, I can't help but chuckle. "You mean 'naive' "

She shrugs, throwing a pillow at me. "You know what I mean. I don't need to worry about you throwing up or passing out or sleeping with the wrong guy"

"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"

"Exactly" Yooyeon snaps. "So, what do you say? We'll go meet Yeonjun, hangs out for a bit. Then, we can come back to your books if you want"

I glance at my laptop, ths text cursor blinking in and out of existence as if reminding me of the marks soon to be lost. It's tempting to stay here but Yooyeon's right. Perhaps, I can take a breather just this once.

I sigh, pushing my chair back. "Fine. But don't expect me to drag your drunk ass back here"

Yooyeon lets out a triumphant squeal, practically bouncing off the bed. "Yes! You won't regret it"

She's already heading to the door when I throw a sweater over my shoulder. Yooyeon's dressed in her usual fit - jeans and a Lord of the Rings shirt, the one that says "You shalll not pass".

"Seriously? You are wearing that shirt again?" I ask, eyeing her.

Yooyeon shrinks away in mock offense. "Excuse me? Have some respect for the classics. Everybody loves Gandalf"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Let's go"

As soon as we step out of the building, we are hit by the cool night air. The campus is fast asleep, the street lamps casting long shadows across the brick paths. It feels peaceful, almost serene.

Yooyeon immediately starts chattering about this new Draco-Harry fiction, her hands waving animatedly as she speaks. I listen, half-distracted, my thoughts finding their way back to a topic unexplored for some times - Sohyun.

Maybe that morning in the dinining hall doesn't mean anything. It's jut a moment, and moments pass.

Despite the countless convincements, a part of me still wonders. What if she had smiled back? What if things have happened differently?

"Earth to Xinyu. Helloooooo" Yooyeon's voice break through my thoughts and I realize she has been talking to me this whole time.

"Sorry" I mumble, recomposing myself. "What were you saying?"

"I said, what do you think of Yeonjun?"

"He seems...nice" I answer, though I barely remember the guy.

Yooyeon grins, clearly pleased. "I know, right? He's the sweetest. And he's really into Harry Potter too, so that's a bonus"

I hum in agreement. Yooyeon's world seems so simple - vibrant, full of energy. Meanwhile, mine feels like the polar opposite. I'm always overthinking, second-guessing.

"Hey" Yooyeon nudges me with her elbow. "You are being all broody again. Stop it. We are going to have fun"

"Yeah, okay" I say, offering her a small smile.

I breath in the autumn air, hoping that mayb, I can stop cllinging onto a loose thread.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The club is a short walk off campus, tucked into a narrow street line with food trucks and cafés that come alive at night. As me and Yooyeon approach, the distant music grows louder, the rhythmic bass reverberating beneath our feet.

A small line of people snaked out of the entrance, marked by a neon sign displaying its name "The Tavern". The building itself is unassuming, with dark brick walls and small windows dimly lit from the inside.

When we step in, the place opens into a large space with low lighting. The bar run along one side while the rest of the room is a dance floor, dotted with tables around the edge. The air is buzzing with music and energy - people pressed close together, shouting whatever on their mind over the DJ's beat. It's an enitrely different world from the quiet, orderly campus.

"There he is!" Yooyeon yells over the music, wavibg wildly at someone near the bar. I follow her gaze and find a guy leaning against the counter, already grinning like a madman. Yeonjun. I recognize him from the first (and the only) time Yooyeon introduced me. He seems to reflect Yooyeon's restless vigour - a match made in heaven (or Hogwarts, whatever).

"Yeonjun. You remember Xinyu, right?" she says, taking her place next to him. He offers me a smile, not too over the top, but friendly enough. "The one who's always drowning in books?"

I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"

"Nice to meet you again" He says, his voice smooth. "Yooyeon's always talking about you"

"Only good things, I hope"

He laughs. "All good. Don't worry"

Yooyeon reaches for Yeonjun's half-finished shot of whiskey on the counter but get stopped by a firm grip on her wrist.

"Eh eh eh. You are ordering your own drink, miss"

Yooyeon pouts at Yeonjun's remark. "You don't even want to share a drink with your girlfriend?"

"You see. The reason it's called a 'shot' is that it's meant to be savoured by a single individual" Yeonjun's voice has gone unsettlingly serious.

"And they say Xinyu's the smart one" Yooyeon says, punching his arm.

"And they say men are the agressors" Yeonjun retorts. "How do you even deal with this witch, Xinyu?"

Before I can think of anything to say, Yooyeon grabs his arm. "Before I cast a casual Crucio on your sorry ass, we should get to the dance floor"

Yeonjun didn't argue with that. The banter is just their way of communicating. "Xinyu, you should come too" he invites.

"Uh.....no. I'm good. You two go ahead"

"Are you sure?" Yooyeon asks, despite knowing nothing can budge me. "It wil be fun, I promise"

I shake my head, smiling. "I will pass. I think I will just....get a drink"

Yooyeon is silent for a moment, then she's off, dragging Yeonjun into the sea of bodies. I watch them disappear, Yooyeon's laughter echoing back, carefree and loud, like she's exactly where she belongs.

Me, though? Not so much. So, I head to the bar,sliding onto one of the stools and order a Coke. There's no need for anything stronger. I can barely tolerate anything that have the slightest bit of alcohol and that's speaking from experience. The bartender barely looks at me as he hands it over, already moving on to his next order.

I take a sip and glance around. The place is packed, bodies moving in rhythm, couples tangled up in each other and some loners who are just swaying, lost in the music. It's loud, chaotic and I feel totally out of place. It's not that I don't want to have fun - I just don't know how to in place like this. Maybe my definition of 'fun' is different from everyone here.

I lean back against the bar and take another sip. The girls here are all glitter and glamour - tight dresses, high heels and bold colors, shimmering under the disco light. Like the night is made for them.

And then there's me in my oversized sweater and faded jeans. My white sneakers seems an imposter to their sleek heels. I have been so eager to get out of my comfort zone for once that I forget to do the necessary preparations.

I search for Yooyeon's familiar face in the crowd, but she's lost in the restless horde, probably twirling around with Yeonjun. I'm happy for her but all I feel is...detached. It's pathetic. I know. I'm too old not to know my constant fear of being the outsider, of being denied.

I'm halfway through my coke when I feel someone slide into the seat next to me, the barstool creaking under the weight. I didn't look up, hoping that it's just another stranger who comes to mind their own business. But then, he clears his throat, loud enugh for me not to ignore.

"Hey" a voice rings out, smooth but with a cocky edge.

I glanced over and there he is - perfect hair, gleaming jacket and a gold chain around hid neck. I might not be the best at socializing but I recognize the type immediately - the kind that's used to getting everything he wants. I can see it from his look, like he spends too much time in front of the mirror. He gives me a lazy smile, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come here often?" He ask, leaning a bit too close. His cologne is strong and mixed with the sour stench of his breath, it's impossible not to flinch

"No" I say flatly, taking a sip of my coke.

"That's a shame. You should. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone"

I bristle at that, the compliment feeling more like an insult. "I'm not really into clubs" I reply, my lazy tone desperately showing my lack of interest.

He either doesn't know or care. Instead, he leans closer, his elbow casually resting on the bar next to me. "You just haven't found the right sort of people. I could show you a good time, you know"

I swallow a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, thanks"

But he only smiles wider, as if my rejection is part of a game he's used to playing. "You sure? Cuz I don't see anyone with you here. How about I buy you another drink? Something better than coke"

"No, really. I'm good" I say, more firmly this time, hoping he will get the message. But the bastard won't take his eyes off me.

"You are playing hard to get, huh?" He tilts his head. "You wouldn't believe how many girls like you I have seen. Acting all tough, only to end up in my bed at the end"

That did the job for me. I straighten up in my seat. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, come one. I'm just-"

"Fuck off, Taeil"

A voice cuts through the tension and I instinctively turn my head toward the source. Sohyun stands a few feet away, arms folded. Her shirt has been tucked into her dark jeans, casual but sharp. Her eyes narrow onto the guy who is now known as Taeil, as if she's used to seeing the scene plays out.

Taeil straighten up, his smile wavering. "Relax. We are just talking"

"No, you are not" Sohyun steps closer, gaze hard and unblinking. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are going to walk away and leave her alone.

Taeil's smirk returns but it's not so sure as before. "And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"

Sohyun's lips curve into a smile, one colder than any I have seen from her. She pulls out her phone, holding it up for him to see. "Let's see. I don't think your parents will be so happy to see their son acting like a druggie. Plus, it wouldn't be good for either you or your parents if the video end up in the wrong hands"

All the color drain out if Taeil's face, leaving him gaping. "You are blaffing" He protests, though the panic is clear as day in his voice.

"You know I'm not" Sohyun smiles like a predator who has cornered its prey. "So, fuck off"

For a moment, there's silence, the music filling in the temporary gap. Taeil shifts on his feet, his confidence all gone and finally, he lets out a sharp breath. "Fine. Whatever" His eyes flash with fury. "But this isn't over yet"

Sohyun gives him a mock wave, wriggling her fingers as he strides out of the club.

I exhale, realizing I have been holding my breath. I look over at Sohyun, who's still standing there with her phne. A neutral look has returned to her face. Like the Sohyun just a moment ago was a totally different person.

"You ok?" She asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I - yeah. Thanks" I reply, still a little stunned.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile, genuine this time. "That guy's a creep"

I nod, processing everything that has happend in the last few minutes. Sohyun, the psychologist. Sohyun, the saviour. What isn't she?

She pulls up the stool next to mine, the one Taeil has occupied just a moment ago and settles in. I shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of her presence, of how close she is. The bar light cast little shadows on her face, illluminating the little details on her face I haven't noticed before. The tiny mole on her nose catches the light first, then the one under her left eye. They are so small, barely there but they stand out now that I'm seeing her up close.

"First time here?" She asks. How she knows, I have no idea. Maybe it's my my clothes that give it away.

"Yeah" I admits, a little sheepishly. "It's not really my kind of place"

Sohyun raises an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Yeah, I figured. You don't exactly look like you are having the time of your life"

I let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

She smirks, her eyes flickering over to my outfit. "Just a little"

I glance down, fidgeting with the edge of my sweater, suddenly even more aware of my appearance. "It's not really.....I don't usually go to places like this"

"So, not a party person?" Sohyun's voice is more curious than judegemental.

"Not really" I admit. "I'm more of a...stay-in and read type"

Her smile grows and for a moment, the chaotic sounds of the club faded as if we are alone. "Well, you are here now. So might as well try to enjoy it"

She's so easygoing, so at ease with herself it makes me want to throw caution to the wind too. But then, I remembered that morning in the dining hall and my stomach twists. The memory is still nagging at the back of my mind. I bite my lower lip, debating whether or not I should bring up the subject.

Sohyun takes a sip from my nearly empty can of coke and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. "I saw you the other morning. At the dining hall"

Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"

"I smiled at you" I say. "But you didn't see me"

Or act like you don't, I thought.

Her eyes widen for a moment before she speaks."Wait, really? Xinyu, I'm sorry. I didn't see you"

I blink. "You didn't?"

She shakes her head. "I swear. If I'd seen you, I would have smiled back. I promise. I guess I was just in my own head then. I'm sorry"

Her words are soft, delicate and sincere. It unravels the knot in my stomach I have pretended to be non-existent. Still, she could be lying but I decide to trust her,realizing how much I care about what she thinks of me.

I galnce away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "It's okay" I mumble, sipping from the empty can of coke. "I just thought....maybe I'd misread things"

Sohyun gives me a small, warm smile. "You didn't misread anything. I'm sorry if you feel like that"

She's apologizing too much now it's starting to get uncomfortable. So I dismiss it with a nod.

Sohyun shifts in her seat, her eyes flickering down to my sweater, which have bunched up awkwardly from the way I have been sitting. Before I can fix it myself, she reaches over. Her finges gently tug at the hem of my sweater, smoothing it down without a second thought.

"There" she says, her hand lingering a moment longer more before she pulls it back.

I'm still processing the gesture when almost absentmindedly, she reaches out and brush a stray strand of my hair out of my eyes. Her fingertips skim the side of my face and for a moment, time slows down - just enough for me to notice the way her eyes soften.

"There you go" she says, leaning back. "Now you are perfectly suited for the night life"

We both smile at that and for a heartbeat, I swear I can feel something shift between us. Something I can't quite name. Something that might as well be a misinterpreted signal.

The air settles into a quiet lull, the ghost of her fingers still tingling on my skin. The warmth of the moment hangs awkwardly between us and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, actuely aware of the silent between us.

"So..." I clear my throat. "Do you come here alone too?"

The corner of her mouth quriks up like she finds my question amusing. "Alone?" she repeats. "No. Not really. I'm here with my friends most of the time"

I nod. "So, are they here tonight?"

She glances towards the dance floor. "Yeah. They are somewhere out there" she says with a small laugh. "I kinda slipped away for a bit. Needed a break"

A break. From what, though? The noise? The people? The club?

I hesistate for a second. "Not really your scene either?"

She gives me a sideway glance. "It's fun but...sometimes, I don't know. It can geta little old. Same people, same music"

"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"

She taps her fingers against the bar, thoughtful for a moment. "What about you? Do you come here yourself or did Yooyeon drag you here?"

My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"

Sohyun chuckles softly. "We are friends on instagram. She followed me first, I think? She seems fun"

I can't help but laugh at that. "Yeah. She's definitely fun"

Sohyun tilts her head, as if searching for Yooyeon in the crowd. "She told me she's your roommate when I mentioned I see you in one of her stories. She's been hyping you up"

"She -what?" I stare at her, feeling the panic rising in my chest. "Hyping me up?"

Sohyun greans, leaning in just close enough for me to catch a faint scent of her perfume. "Yeah. She says you are a lot cooler than you let on"

I shake my head, laughing under my breath. "That's Yooyeon....being Yooyeon"

"Well, she's not wrong" Sohyun adds, her eyes catching mine for a split second before she goes back to staring at the dance floor.

The silence settles in again, like an early intermission. Sohyun's eyes flicker back to me and I try to ignore the way she's watching me like she's considering something. I sip at the can of Coke that has been emptied long since.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" She asks so casually, like it's something she asks anyone alone in a night like this.

"What?" I ask, unsure if I've heard it right over the loud music.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's too loud. And hot. Let's do something fun"

I hesistate, unknowingly squeezing the coke can flat. "Like what?"

Sohyun gives me a small smile, laced with certainity and mischeif. "Trust me. You will like it"

There's something in her voice that disarms me. Perhaps it's because this night has already been so surreal, with Yooyeon dragging me here, the drinks, the noise and then Taeil's annoying persistence. And now, Sohyun, who had seemingly ignored me is suddenly offering to whisk me away. It feels like too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

I find myself nodding faster than my brain can catch up. "Okay"

Sohyun stands, sliding a couple bills on the counter before I can protest. She doesn't say anything, just gestures towards the door, and I follow her out of the club.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The air outside is sharp and cold and for once I'm grateful for my out of place sweater. Sohyun, however, doesn't seem to be fazed. If not, she seems to be enjoying it.

The music fades into the distant as we walk in silence, winding through the quieter streets near the campus. I don't ask where we are going and she doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, we fall into step beside each other, our shoulders brushing ocassionally. My pulse is still racing, though I don't know if it's from the club or from the cold.

Sohyun's pace is unhurried, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and I keep my arms wrapped around myself, pulling my sweater tight. After a while, we reach one of the taller campus buildings, its ivy covered walls bathed in the moonlight. During the day, these buildings always looks heavy, weighted down by unknown legacies. But under the silvery gloom of night, it has all been replaced by a strange sort of calm.

"Come" Sohyun gestures towards the side door as she leads me in. The hallway is dim, lit only by the low, humming lights overhead. She doesn't say a word as she climbs up the stairs, up and up until we reach the top floor. I'm breathless by the time we come to a stop in front of an old, rusted door, with a faded sign that reads Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only.

Sohyun gives me a quick wink as she pushed open the door with a soft creak. "Not like anyone ever come here" She mutters to herself as she steps out into the night.

I follow her onto the roof, and for a moment, I'm stunned. The sky stretches out above us, a blanket of stars scattered across the black canvas of night. The city lights flicker below and I can still hear the distant sound of traffic but for the most part, it's quiet. Like the rooftop itself is another world within this world. The wind tugs at my sweater and I pull it even tighter around me, bracing against the sudden rush of cold.

Sohyun is already sitting at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over the side, her gaze fixed on the stars. She pats the spot next to her and I sit, careful to keep a distance between us.

I tilt my head up, admiring the stars, feeling the enormity of the night settling down on me. "You come here often?"

"Yeah" Sohyun says, her voice soft. "Whenever I need to think. Or when I just need a breather"

I nod, unsure what to say. This isn't what I expected when she said something fun. But in a way, it's better.

We sit in silent for a moment, the only sounds the wind and the distant hum of the city below. This calm, it's peaceful and stirring at the same time. As if there's a deeper meaning to it that I can't quite grasp.

"It's funny" she says. "Back in the country, I used to lie out in the fields and just....watch the stars. Sometimes, I would stare at them for hours. It never fails to soothe me"

I watch the way her eyes trace the sky as if she's searching for something. To be honest, I have expected someone like her to be from a big city. An image of her anywhere else is unimaginable.

"Must've been nice" I murmur. "Being able to see them so clearly"

She nods. "Yeah. It's not the same here. The city kinda takes over. Light pollution and all"

I can hear the nostalgia in her voice and for a moment, I imagine her as a little girl lying under that wide country sky, her face lit by starlight. There's something tender about it, something that makes me want to reach for a fragment of her from a different time.

After a pause, I point up at the sky. "Well, we've got stars here too. Not as bright, but they are still there"

Sohyun tilts her head, following where I'm pointing and I can't help but smile a little. "Okay, bear with my nerdiness for a second"

She chuckles. "Go for it"

I lift my hand, tracing an invisible line through the air. "That's Orion. See the three stars right there, in a row? That's his belt"

Sohyun squints, trying to follow. "Oh, I think I see it"

"Orion was a hunter" my voice dropping slightly as I tell the story. "A really good one too. Some says he fell in love with the goddess Artemis but her brother, Apollo, wasn't too happy about it so he tricked Artemis into killing Orion" I pause. "She realized her mistake too late and heartbroken, she placed him among the stars so she can always see him"

The story hangs in the air when I finish. I glance at Sohyun, her face bathed in a soft glow. She's quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

"That's kind of sad" she says quietly.

"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"

I shift slightly, turning to face her and she does the same. Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world stills. I notice the way her hair flatters with the breeze, the city lights reflected in her eyes and the faint smile tug at her lips.

"You are really something, you know that?" she says, her voice low. "Is this your revenge for my espresso lecture?"

I blink, then smiles, feeling the tension melt away. "Maybe" I say, my voice almost teasing. "But instead of coffee, I use tragic mythological hunters"

Sohyun tilts her head, her smile widening. "Touché. You really know how to open-up someone"

"It's a natural talent" I shrug, although my sarcastic tone gives away the bluff.

"So, this is how you get back at people?" She continues, her voice still teasing. "By making them feel guilty for their ignorance about constellations"

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Please, you are not the first person to endure my mythology rants. Consider yourself lucky it wasn't longer"

"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"

It's like we are back in the café except that now, I'm the one doing most of the talking. But we are still the same two people with their own crazy obsessions.

Then in the lightest of gestures, Sohyun reaches out. Her fingers find the sleeve of my sweater, gently tugging at the cuff, as though fixing it, like she did earlier. She looks at me, eyes warm and amused.

"Revenge or not" she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I think I like your stories"

I swallow, trying not to lose my footing in the closeness of the moment. "Well" I managed to say, my voice uneven. "Next time, I will make sure to pick a happier story"

Sohyun chuckles, leaning back, although her eyes never leave me. "I will hold you to that"

The air around us suddenly become charged with something unspoken. There's a quiet, almost reverent pause in the conversation as if neither of us wants to break whatever delicate thread is holding this moment together.

Sohyun shifts slightly, inching just the slightest to my side. The stars seem to burn brighter, and I find myself leaning into the silence, into the space between us that feels both heavy and light at the same time.

"Do you ever feel like....." Sohyun starts, her voice quiet, like she's speaking into the night as much as to me. "Like everything around you is waiting for something to happen?"

I blink, her words sinking into the stillness. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze flickers back to the stars. "Like....right now, for instance" Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something in her expression, like she's trying to find the right words. "It's like we are on the edge of something"

Her words send a shiver through me, not from the cold but the hidden meaning underneath. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's one I've been pushing aside ever since we met. The strange pull towards her, a quiet fascination that has grown into something else entirely, something that's so wrong and so right at once.

I glance at her and find myself staring at the mole under her left eye, like I'm seeing her for the first time.

"I know what you mean" I finally say, my voice almost too quiet like I'm afraid to break this fragile peace between us. My hands tighten around the railing and I glance down for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like.....something have changed"

She moves an inch more closer, the space between us nearly non-existent now. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat now. My breath catch in my throat as she leans in, enough to cover the remaining space distancing us.

"You are right" she says softly. "Something has changed"

It's so quiet, her voice almost swallowed by the night. MY gaze flickers to her lips for a second - a brief unintentional moment that I quickly pull back from. But I wasn't quick enough.

Sohyun notices. I can see it in her way her expression shifts. And she knows that I know that she knows. Her hand, resting casually on the railing, moves slightly, her fingers brushing against mine in the lightest of touches. It's barely a graze but it's enough to send electricity tingling through my nerves.

The moment stretches, suspended between us, as if we're waiting for something to happen or maybe just waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable now, not uncomfortable, but thick, charged with possibility.

I can't tell who moves first, or if we even move at all. It's like an invisible force has suddenly drawn us together. Her face is so close now, I can see the way my breath mingles with hers in the cool night air.

Then slowly - so slowly it feels like the world is holding its breath - Sohyun lifts her hand. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my sweater, smoothing a wrinkle near my shoulder like she did the last two times. But this time, it's different. There's an unspoken intentionality to it that makes my breath quickens.

Her hand lingers, tracing the fabric for a moment longer than necessary. And then, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her other hand, gently tucking a strand of stray hair way from my face and tucking it behind my ear. The tender touch send a warmth through me.

Suddenly, everything feels sharper, more vivid - the sound of the wind, the soft glow of the city lights, the way her fingers linger near my cheek, as if she's waiting for my permission to go further.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm trying to say, but needing to say something, anything, to break the tension between us.

But she doesn't move. She just watches me, her eyes searching mine, her hand still resting gently on my cheek. "Is this okay?" she asks as if it's a secret we only know.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak without stuttering, unable to think of anything but the way her breath feels against my skin.

And then so so slowly, it feels like time has stopped, she leans in.

Her lips brush against mine in the lightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, more like a promise, like she's testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to tell her to stop.

But I don't. I won't.

Because in that moment, everything have ceased to exist - the city, the stars, the quiet night around us. All that's left is the warmth of her lips, the way they press against mine, gentle but certain.

I kiss her back, just as softly, just as tentatively. And for a moment, it feels like my life has reached its epitome.

Sohyun's hand, resting near my cheek, slides down to cup my jaw, her fingers warm against my skin. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly against mine, and I feel a soft sigh escape me before I could stop it.

My hands, awkward at first, find their way to her waist. I hold her there, not too tight, but enough to feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. She responds by pulling me closer, her fingers slipping into my hair, tugging me gently, deepening the kiss.

Her hands move from my jaw, sliding down my neck, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. My heart is pounding louder than the wind around us, around the city below. The kiss becomes more insistent, more desperate, as if we are trying to say something through it, something words can't describe.

Sohyun's lips parts with mine and for a moment, I think she's finally pulling away. But instead, she moves closer, her breath ghosting against my jawline. A soft shiver runs through me when I feel the first press of her lips against my neck, light and teasing.

Her mouth moves slowly, gently exploring, like she's savoring the taste of my skin. Her lips trail down the side of my neck, and when she presses a firmer kiss jut below my ear, I can't stop the quiet gasp that betrays my lips.

Sohyun hears it. Of course, she does. And I feel her smile against my skin.

"You are so sensitive here, Xinyu" she whipsers before her lips continue their path lower, her hands finding the back of my neck.

When she presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my neck, her tongue barley flicking against my skin, I feel my whole body tense with the intensity of it. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer, yearning for more.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice and her response is to kiss me harder, her lips hot against the sensitive skin of my neck.

The world won't stop spinning, I reduced to nothing but the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine and the quiet, breathless sounds that fill the space between us. It's overwhelming and yet, I can't imagine it stopping anytime soon.

When it finally does, I can still feel the ghost of her lips lingering on my skin. I feel her breath, close to my neck for a second longer before she pulls back. The cool night air rushes in where her lips had been, but the heat she left behind stays, radiating beneath my skin.

I open my eyes, barely realizing I have closed them and glance at her. Sohyun doesn't say a word. She just leans in, her dark locks scattering as she rests her head on my shoulder. Her gaze is fixed on the stars, unblinking as if she's trying to imprint them to memory.

But then, without looking away, she lets out a quiet breath and says, so softly I almost miss it.

"Fucking Apollo"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[lizardsfromspace]

Screencap of a tweet by a white teenager: Damn. Jim Carrey's The Grinch be the Rizz King, no cap

An English major on Tumblr: No but do you ever think about The Grinch? All alone on his mountain. Cold. Windy. His heart is small but the heart of the Whovillians who hate him without knowing him are smaller. Cold. Their love is selective, based in material things. The tragedy is that the Grinch stole their Christmas, but they always stole his Christmas. Did they know? Did they know they were consigning him to a cold death on that mountain? The death of a heart......

Cottagecore blog with Taylor Swift lyrics URL: I never thought about that before...it's so true. This is what capitalism is doing to us...the Instagram effect...

Twitter transplant: lol it's not that deep

15 year old with thoughts on fanfiction: No but the Grinch is the VILLAIN. Don't you get that?

42 year old "fandom mom", writing a Horton Hears a Who coffeeshop AU on her lunch break at Raytheon: Um, sweetie, he may be a villain but I still wanna know what else grows five sizes ;)

LicentiousGisela: Come do chat of the sex with the ⛑️ BRAVEST 🥫 MOST BREEDABLE 🥫 CLAIMS ADJUSTER 🎳 IN NORTHEASTERN OHIO 🇻🇨😜

[reshinless]

hiii! i really love ur blog and ur writing so i'd like to request smth if it's okay ^^ i recently got into jjk and i just saw that you also write for it, so could i request what it's like waking up w/ gojo and nanami (separately) or like morning routines with them please? 🫶

──── what a wednesday

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. in his warmth, bask in it for as long as the sun is still rising.

𝜗𝜚 pairings. nanami, & gojo x gn!reader (seperately)

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. OOO finally a jjk req i can do :3

waking up next to nanami is waking up in his scent. it's gentle, and brief each time you breathe it in. but it'll never be a scent you'd forget.

nanami who's still in your arms, while his are wrapped around your waist. his hold is firm, yet soft as he snuggled a little closer to you.

nanami who's only just woken up, his voice husky, different from the one who always greets you good morning in the kitchen. kissing around your neck so gently, just enough not to startle you, but enough to feel you for himself.

as small shivers escaped from your body, his laugh hoarse, and rough. nanami who calls you sweetheart, fitting his head into the space near your neck like the last piece in the jigsaw puzzle

loving nanami is like a warm cup of coffee, one you'd have everyday, the same one you'd order every time you'd order at that little coffeeshop you like.

or maybe if you don't like coffee, loving nanami is like a piece of art in a museum, it'll never get old how many times he's praised you, and how flustered you'd get over his words, no matter how many times he'd tell you.

kento who still isn't used to you calling him 'ken' quite yet. not because he hates it, he loves it so much it makes him flustered.

kento who hugs you from behind on those saturday mornings where there's nothing to do but admire you, and watch you cook breakfast.

or maybe he would cook breakfast instead )

kento sneakily placing kisses on your shoulders and trail them down your back, before going back up to kiss you on the cheek, walking away to make you both cups of coffee (or tea if you don't like coffee!!)

gojo who's already awake as he holds you closer, almost smirking as he place his lips on your cheeks briefly

gojo who whispers a 'good morning, love', knowing how raspy, and thick his voice was, you couldn't lie how pretty he sounded.

kissing you on your lips, and trailing down small pecks onto your neck, gojo calls out your name oh-so delicately

gojo who loves to smile through your kisses, clearly feeling it on your own skin, he knows how much you fluster because of it.

another peck to your neck- a shudder comes through. as of now you've only fully woken up, cupping gojo's cheeks with your palms, planting a kiss on his forehead.

loving gojo is like reliving your childhood. he makes sure you have fun with him all the time. but at the same time he knows when to be serious with you.

at the same time.. loving gojo is like breath of fresh air, he keeps you on your toes! or maybe its similar to a garden. whether if it's the flora, or the fauna, it's always interesting how the little things matter the most.

satoru who loves hearing the small mutters of the little nickname you gave him when he teases you in bed (after waking up, nothing dirty >_o)

satoru who can't help but tease you more, hearing 'toru.. stop.' and a lazy push is given to him with a smile on your face.

satoru can't resist hugging you from behind, while he talks to you idly about his coworkers, or his day yesterday, or maybe how he wants his breakfast (all jokes of course). he'll lovingly accept whatever you cook.

let me cook chat (reqs open stil :3!!)

[1hot-mess-express1]

Ex-Husband!Nanami knew you deserved more. He was cold and distant after leaving the world of Jujutsu. Drowning himself in his work to avoid the constant nagging in the back of his mind, he lost sight of what really mattered, the one piece of that world that followed him wholeheartedly into the unknown. The nights when he did come home, you were perched at the dining room table, food long forgotten and head resting peacefully on the shiny oak. He runs a large hand down his weathered face, rubbing at the creases in his brow and cursing himself a little. How did it get like this? 

Ex-Husband!Nanami knows it’s over when he returns to see that same dining room table empty, save for the meal you had prepared that had long since gone cold. He doesn’t bother to check the rest of the house; instead settles himself on the couch, head in hands, wondering why he felt happy for you; he should be consumed with distraught, but the thought of you getting all of the love and care you deserve brings a crestfallen smile to his features. 

Ex-Husband!Nanami doesn’t expect to see you again. He fancies the idea of strolling into a coffeeshop, looking over, and seeing you curled up in the booth, entirely too comfortable for a public place, nose deep in a book, but he knows that won’t happen. He likes to think that you’re tucked away in the lavish home of some rich man, surrounded by beauty and poetry, the likes of which come second only to you and the warmth you radiate. Imagine his surprise when he walks past a veil and sees your beautiful ear-to-ear smile as you chat away with a manager. You looked so much younger than when he last saw you; your skin was radiant, and your eyes weren’t sunk in; your posture was befitting of someone like you. You looked nothing like the shell of a person he had left behind. 

Ex-Husband!Nanami returns to Jujutsu tech the next day. He tells himself he’s doing it to protect you, that he couldn’t live with himself if you died on some mission while he was blissfully unaware, off-playing salaryman. He knows this isn’t true; he knows that you were a much better sorcerer than he ever was. Nanami knows that you were made for this life, unlike him, always the hero donning a sweet smile and preaching about the importance of sorcerers in a curse-filled land. He knows that the reason he returns is entirely selfish, that he wanted to peer at that beautiful soul he nearly let wither away at his dining room table. He would be happy to lay down his life in this world if it meant that he could watch you bloom. 

Ex-Husband!Nanami knew you deserved more, but deep down, he was a selfish child and he was going to indulge those youthful desires once more. He had grown old at much too young of an age, but seeing you like this made him feel young again.

[diazsdimples]

bucktommy + coffee shop au

Ngl I had to google what these were cause I've never read one. Anyways!

Buck works as a barista in a small coffeeshop not far from the 118. Tommy stops in before his shifts and usually orders the most boring long black (americano but stronger) that he can. He's initially a little withdrawn, not reciprocating Buck's blatantly obvious flirting, but Buck is determined to crack him.

After a few months of chatting (generally one sided but Buck doesn't care), Tommy begins to be a little more open with him. Buck learns his boss is a bit of a dickhead and he doesn't want him to know about his sexuality, so he usually keeps his head down when he's this close to work. Buck understands and dials back on the flirting, instead turning his attention to finding Tommy a different type of coffee with "more flavour and not just dark like Tommy's soul" (Buck's words)

Every time Tommy comes into the cafe, Buck makes him his coffee, but he also makes a smaller option, of whatever flavour is most popular that week. He gets creative too, mixing in different pumps of syrup, adding some spices, but also sticking to the favourites like pumpkin spice lates, peppermint mochas and the like. Tommy declares all of them far too sweet, but Buck can see from the twinkle in his eye that he's secretly enjoying it.

One day Tommy comes in with another couple of men, and Buck can instantly see a change in him. They're all wearing firefighter's uniforms and when Buck catches Tommy's eye, the guy shakes his head imperceptibly. Getting the hint, Buck acts as though he's never met Tommy before, being perfectly cordial to him and the other men. One of them is much older and has terrible manners, and Buck assumes this is the dickhead boss. In a spur of the moment decision, Buck writes his number on the bottom of Tommy's cup, with a short message saying "if you need to talk". He taps it as he hands the cup to Tommy, hoping he understands.

It isn't for a couple of days that Tommy calls. He hasn't come to the store before then and Buck is starting to get worried. Tommy asks if Buck would be willing to meet somewhere and chat for a bit. Buck readily agrees, and he and Tommy (ironically) meet for a coffee, where Buck judges the way Tommy's coffee is made and reckons he could do it better. Tommy tells Buck that after the other day, his boss was fired and it was like a huge weight was lifted off his chest. He feels more comfortable being himself around his coworkers, and says he's liked Buck for a while now and would really like it if they could go on a few proper dates together. Buck, who hasn't been at all subtle about his crush on Tommy, readily agrees and their relationship begins.

Send me a ship and an AU!

[theactualsunshinechild]

Can I just say the straight line style polycule that is Hu Tao x Furina x Neuvillette x Zhongli never stops being top tier comedy to me and it feels like no one talks about it.

Like, come on guys, it's got everything you could possibly ask for!

Newly mortal girl finally getting to live her own life after centuries of playing a role meets super chill and supportive funeral parlor director who can ease any worries she may have about death as a concept and also play pranks on her, drag her fun places, and help her make up with her long term situationship Dragon Sovereign who is deeply devoted to making her happy.

Honestly this is already fantastic; Neuvillette gets Gremlin (beloved) and Gremlin (mischievous) in his life! He brings Furina flowers after her performances and has a collection of autographed photos from each in his room. Hu Tao comes by to hang out in his office and bother him about marketing her funeral parlor, and he has to explain advertisement laws in Fontaine and how several of her ideas would get her arrested and that this would make Lady Furina quite upset. She teases him for "being a simp" and it slides off him like water.

Furina has a collection of pressed flowers from each of Neuvillete's bouquets in her room. Hu Tao taught her how to press and preserve flowers after her sopping wet meowmeow of a girlfriend cried in her arms about that first bouquet starting to wither.

Hu Tao drags both of them into playing TCG with her any time she can, and is always putting in word with local and visiting theater troupes about her girlfriend's acting talent and excellent director services. She loves seeing Furina squeal at the sight of a ghost, but usually shoos them away unless she's trying to spook her on purpose. Sometimes she runs her poetry by Neuvillette before going to recite it to Furina because she finds he has a good eye for it, and sometimes is able to convince him to put his own feelings into words through poetry as well.

Fontaine is full of tabloids arguing about who Fontaine's superstar is Actually Dating, and no one is certain! She is seen on the beach walking hand in hand with the Iudex merely two days after having publicly ordering the couple's special at a renowned coffeeshop with a strange Liyue girl. She has not denied dating either of them, nor has there been any indication of a breakup??? The two suitors have been spotted out purchasing her favorite sweets together, so they don't appear to be on bad terms??? The papers have no idea what to do with this and it is hilarious.

And then Zhongli enters the picture. Mysteriously absent any time Neuvillette comes by with Furina, but always there to chat and provide wild trivia when it's just the girls hanging out. And the girls have caught on. Hu Tao has a pretty good idea of what's up, but Furina?

Furina convenes with her girlfriend and is like "I think that employee of yours, Mr. Zhongli, might have a thing for Neuvillette? I've seen many dramas in my lifetime, but this is still the most obvious crush I've seen in centuries. Any time I mention Neuvillette he gets stiff as a board, turns seven different colors, and starts avoiding eye contact like the plague! It's like he thinks someone is going to bite his head off if he so much as thinks about the man! A shame too, they seem like they'd get along so well..."

Hu Tao, fighting for her life to not fall into fits of laughter: "We should set them up on a date"

Furina gets super excited about it! This is just like in one of her favorite plays!! Hu Tao adds fuel to the fire by teasing Zhongli about his "crush" in front of Furina one time, and he politely denies having any such thoughts about the reputable and honorable Iudex. Furina just becomes further convinced she's correctly judged the situation. Hu Tao knows exactly what she is doing and is reveling in the situation she is putting her consultant into.

Furina has all the details meticulously planned out, she is vibrating with excitement to matchmake her partner with someone so well suited for him. Hu Tao helps her find a suitable location in Chenyu, (near Fontaine, excellent tea, the perfect place to set a trap- sorry, date) They talk to the staff and the staff is excited to help.

Neuvillette keeps hearing from Furina about this charming man he simply must meet and how "he's exactly your type" and "is totally crushing on you" and he's a little nervous, but agrees to try and attend this blind date because he trusts Lady Furina's judgement, and he can't deny he IS curious to meet someone who can allegedly distinguish where an ore comes from on sight and taste minute differences in the mineral concentration of the tea water the way Furina claims this man can. Neuvillette arrives to the teahouse knowing only that he is going on a date with someone who is "secretly harboring feeling for him".

As for Zhongli? He knows something is up, but can't quite tell What exactly Director Hu is planning. When he's given some pocket money and told to attend a very important meeting in her stead at the teahouse, he goes, if only out of curiosity. (And of course, who would miss out on such quality tea?)

When the Iudex of Fontaine walks in and zeroes in on him and his table with slitted eyes, Zhongli seriously considers whether or not he can get away with faking his own death a second time on such short notice.

The answer of course is No, but he discovers he doesn't Have To, at least not yet. The Hydro Dragon Sovereign power walks up to the table, looking to be on the verge of attempting to drag Morax back to Fontaine for judgement by the scruff of his neck if necessary, but then seems to pause to properly look at the other man and consider the spread of tea and appetizers peacefully sitting in front of him. He throws a glance around the room, catching the interested looks the staff is poorly hiding, then catches and holds Zhongli's gaze as if searching for something in it. Celestia only knows what he's trying to decipher, and Zhongli can only clench his teacup and pray that whatever he finds is enough to convince him to let this go for the moment. He can feel the heat climbing up the back of his neck, his tie feeling a bit too tight for comfort, but he swallows down the nerves and tries for a pacifying smile.

(He's pretty sure it comes out a bit more tense than intended)

((He's also pretty sure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign can hear the pounding of the blood rushing in his veins, probably even sense the sweat building up under his collar))

(((The way his eyes flicked to watch his throat as he swallowed gives the impression of a creature considering the ease with which that throat can be torn out with its teeth)))

"You've come all this way; would you care to try the tea, Monsieur Neuvillette? It is a local specialty of this region, meticulously hand picked and dried using traditional methods passed down for generations. I am quite confident you may find it to your liking, though the local water is also quite distinctive, and I'm sure we can get you a glass if that is what you prefer. Had I known to expect your presence I would have requested one already," He keeps his speech calm and measured, even as his heart tries to climb out of his chest from the tension. No need to worry. If it comes down to it, he's has seen his fair share of war and battle. He can take him. Or at least could have taken him... a fully fledged Dragon Sovereign is a battle he would much rather simply not engage in. There is wisdom, after all, in not picking fights where mediation and contractual obligation can suffice. And social contract is as much a form of contract as any other. Surely the esteemed Iudex understands this...

Neuvillette relieves Zhongli of his intense stare and sits down without so much as a threat. The tension leaks out of Zhongli's posture ever so slightly as Neuvillette picks up the cup of freshly brewed tea that had been presented to him. Seems whatever he found sufficed to stay his hand for now.

Neuvillette is too busy reeling, trying to come to terms with the notion that an Usurper he is determined to judge for his sins has apparently developed some kind of romantic interest in him. He will still be judged, of course, it is only right. But... that doesn't mean that such tender feelings must be cruelly rejected without even having been given a chance. Furina believes in this man's suitability, after all, whether she knows his archon nature or not. And he would be remiss to overlook her opinion. She had always held deep insights into people's natures that Neuvillette himself never could quite grasp as thoroughly. Her incredible humanity and understanding is something he values dearly, and she was technically an Archon herself at one point after all, and yet, he loves her all the same. The cup wafts with a pleasant warmth and the taste of tea infused mountain spring water lingers on his tongue, as gold eyes observe him attentively, looking for his reaction. Yes, it is only fair. He will make an honest attempt to view this man before him as more than just an Usurper, and judge his eligibility as a romantic partner as a separate case.

For the entire rest of the "date" Zhongli is stressed, making conversation like his life depends on it, throwing in some flattering comments here and there to feed the air of polite goodwill he's trying to foster, and trying his best to read Neuvillette, who remains remarkably inscrutable. In the meantime, Neuvillette is just politely allowing himself to be rizzed up.

Neuvillette goes home pleasantly surprised by the experience.

Neuvillette: "You were quite right about him Lady Furina, Mr. Zhongli is indeed a terribly charming and intelligent man with refined tastes and a dignified manner. I'm afraid you have accurately predicted that I could indeed become quite fond of him. A shame I will have to judge him someday, but as you've experienced, I do not allow myself to be biased in formally judging individuals I have feelings for. Nevertheless, it really is quite insightful of you to have me get to know the Geo Archon outside of a courtroom setting."

Furina: "...............the who"

Zhongli is dragging himself home worn out from the encounter, feeling his age in his bones and wanting nothing more than to lie down and not think about the Next Time he was assured he would be contacted about.

Hu Tao, standing at the door, grinning: "soooooooo.... how was your hot date with the Iudex?"

Zhongli: "...............my what"

Hu Tao: "Ayah~ Surely you realized it was a date? Furina has been so excited to set this up for you since you seemed like you were going to avoid it forever! She told her boyfriend aaaaall about your little crush on him and told him to give you a shot! Surely you didn't fumble him that bad?"

Zhongli, suddenly reevaluating every single thing that happened during dinner in a brand new light: "I am not sure what the best term to describe what occurred is, but he did ask to see me again."

Hu Tao: "My my, who knew my consultant could be such a rizzler! A bet lost/ A prize won/ A love found/ A heart surrendered!"

Zhongli: ".....You bet against me?"

Hu Tao smoothly avoids answering that by handing him some paperwork, leaving some instructions and skipping off to go about her business.

[engie-ivy]

@wolfstarmicrofic 5th: Cupid💘

817 words

When Remus let James Potter set him up on a date with his best friend, Lily had hoped that at least he would find out dating really isn't that terrible, and finally start allowing Lily to set him up on dates as well.

Not Sorry

Lily stumbles a little as she walks over to Remus, because damn those bloody heels.

Remus turns towards her from where he's standing at the bar and arches an eyebrow. “Lils, you might want to go easy on the wine.”

Which is ridiculous. Lily has only had three glasses. And some champagne before that. And maybe a cocktail at some point.

“Don't change the topic!” Lily says, even though they hadn't actually been talking yet. She jabs her finger at Remus’ chest. “I'm still mad at you!”

“Oh, come on, Lils," Remus chuckles. “You're going to have to get over it at some point.”

“We had a deal, Lupin!”

“I know, Lily, but-”

“A deal! All I ever wanted was to get you this fun and exciting dating life,” Lily sighs wistfully. “So you could have handsome men take you out and boost your ego like you deserve, and we could share dating stories and laugh about weird guys together. But did you allow me to set you up on a date ever?”

“I did not,” Remus admits.

“You did not!” Lily exclaims, as if Remus didn't already just admit to that. “It was all ‘No, Lily, I'm just the sort of person who's better off by himself’, ‘No, Lily, I'm not looking for anything’, ‘No, Lily, I'm too independent and need my alone time’, and yadda yadda.” She rolls her eyes. “But then what happened? You allowed your new coworker to set you up on a date with his best friend!”

“It's just very hard to say no to James,” Remus defends himself.

Lily scoffs. Although, while she has only met James Potter a few times, if she's honest she can kind of imagine. When Potter is looking at you with those puppy eyes of his, giving you that hopeful smile, all bright and eager and- Lily shakes her head. She's getting off track. “But we came to a very clear agreement,” she continues, placing her hands on her hips. “If you would learn that going on a date is actually not such a dreadful experience as you seemed to think, you would finally start letting me set you up on dates as well. And was the date dreadful?”

“No, it wasn't,” Remus sighs.

“And did you let me set you up on any dates afterwards, as you promised?”

“No, I didn't,” Remus sighs.

“No, you didn't!” Lily mimics. “Not one date, nothing!” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “And I had so many ideas… That cute redhead from the coffeeshop, that fit bloke from my yoga class, the hot guy from accounting… It would've been so fun, so exciting, maybe we even could've gone on double dates at some point!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sirius appears at Remus’ side, sliding an arm around his waist. “But as much as I enjoy bonding with your family– our family–,” he corrects with a smile. “Your Aunt Joy has been telling me about her bad knee for half an hour now. The sooner you get that woman some wine, the better.”

“And you!” Lily says, turning her attention to Sirius. “You're to blame as well, you know!”

Sirius blinks at her. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily jabs her finger at Sirius’ chest now. “You just had to snatch him off the market right away, didn't you?”

Sirius blinks again, and then barks a laugh. “Well, can you blame me, Lils? I couldn't risk letting this one get away, now could I?” He presses a kiss to Remus’ cheek. “I had to lock it down as soon as possible.”

Lily purses her lips, because, well, no, maybe she actually can't blame him for that.

“I'll be right there, babe,” Remus says, squeezing Sirius’ hand.

Sirius nods and walks off to deal with Remus’ aunt.

Remus looks at Lily and shrugs. “What can I say, Lils? James just struck gold the first time. If you want me to apologize, I'm going to have to disappoint you.” He looks over at the other side of the room while touching the brand new golden ring around his finger, to where Sirius is chatting to his aunts. Sirius catches his gaze, and the forced smile on his face turns into a soft, genuine one. Remus smiles as well. “I'm really not sorry at all.”

Lily watches Remus and Sirius make their way through the room to chat with all their guests.

They do look awfully good together, she thinks sourly.

Then she turns on her heels, having decided to go look for James Potter and give him a piece of her mind. Stupid Potter, thinking he can play Cupid and set their best friends up for their happy-ever-after! Like, who does he think he is? Making Remus so bloody happy, making her bloody cry with that stupid best man speech of his, and looking so bloody handsome in his stupid suit!

Yes, she'll tell him alright.