#compared to how often they report people

[edelgarfield]

it's all "be gay do crime" until someone posts a link to their ko-fi on ao3.

[dzozef]

i can not even begin to explain how stressful the last two days have been at work

[sooniebby]

The idea of a singer being a stalker instead of them being stalked is something that needs to explored more. Bonus, if the person being stalked isn’t particularly scared about it.

More specifically, the stalker being the reader. Bottom male reader.

A reader who’s always been watching his classmate since junior high school (middle school). The classmate wasn’t anyone special to others, average grades with average looks.

But you didn’t mind, him being average meant you didn’t have to fight for his attention. It was small things, just paying attention to his favorite foods and leaving them in his shoe locker.

Then slowly it blossomed. You made sure he got home safe. You found out what cram school he visited and made sure to leave snacks for him, can’t study on an empty stomach!

Increasingly, you noticed he began to get a bit paranoid, always looking behind himself. But he never made any effort to report you to the police or anything. Even when his friend suggested it at first, he practically shot it down fast.

However, after graduating to senior high school, you soon realized he wasn’t paranoid over you. He was getting bullied.

It didn’t take you long to handle it. Despite being a loner and a bit on the shorter side compared to the bully. There’s nothing a bully can do against castration. It’s quite easy to incapacitate someone who drinks a lot.

After, you expected him to act the same. And while he did—you noticed that he would look over at you in class. The first time it happened you practically had a panic attack and ran out of the classroom. He’s never looked at you at all despite the two of your being in the same class for four years straight.

You briefly wondered if he knew. Certainly acting like that would’ve confirmed his suspicions.

Luckily for you—he seemed to never look your way again. You’d know, you spend most of the day staring at him. When you finally graduated, you couldn’t be happy at all.

You’d failed to get into the university he applied to. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to school. You were about to just come up with a back up plan when your sister said she wanted to go somewhere with you.

Just your luck, she tricked you in attending an audition at a music competition. You and her used to sing a lot as kids but you had stopped to focus on him. Of course, the devil was out to get you when you both managed to last until the final round.

Privacy wasn’t a thing for you after that. Your sister persuaded you to get signed at a company. Your parents as well since you technically had nothing else going for you—you did fail the exam for each college you tried at. (That was a lie, you had only applied to one)

Before you didn’t need to dress up to stalk him. You were pretty average as well—but now people recognized you. Especially because the company loved to advertise you as a “emo boy.” You took offense to that—just wearing black didn’t make you an emo.

But in any case, you had to start wearing clothes you wouldn’t be caught dead in. Watching him was harder this time… because he was surprising popular at his university. Everyone talked to him more often and invited him to hang out.

You didn’t understand, he didn’t change how he looked. In any case, you thought he was handsome first. You had dibs. It was getting increasingly difficult to just standby as men and women flirted with him.

Then your worst nightmare happened—he had a date. You stalked it, of course. Dressed in a bright pink shirt with white pants. Hair styled nicely compared to the mess you usually kept it. People really didn’t recognize you when you actually put effort into your looks.

You played with your knife as you watched them chat at the table across from you. The blade was too dull for your liking. Though you had only really used it to castrate that guy. And maybe… to scare off a few people in high school… but you’d never kill—seemed pointless.

As the date finally ended, you were pleased to see him turn down the girl’s offer to come to her place. You watched in satisfaction as she walked away dejectedly. She’s a pretty girl, she’ll find someone else.

You were too busy watching that you hadn’t even noticed someone behind you.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Your body froze. You couldn’t move at all. A laugh left him as he tapped your shoulder.

“Are you going to run away again? I didn’t think you’d still stalk me after becoming a singer. You’re…”

You expected him to cuss you out but to your shock he said.

“Dedicated. Really dedicated. It’s cute.”

“A…what?” You whispered, slowly turning around to face him.

He was smiling at you. Smiling as if he was talking to a friend and not his stalker for over seven years. Was he insane?

Well you weren’t one to talk.

“Cute. I’m glad you didn’t run away this time. Here, gimme your LINE ID.” He said, pulling out his phone. You could only stare at him as he waved his phone. “C’mon, I’m speaking Japanese, yeah?”

“I… wait… are you—? Don’t you know I’ve been stalking you for almost eight years?”

“Mhm.”

“And that I almost followed you to your university? It wasn’t even a university I wanted to go, i don’t even know what I wanted, only if it had you.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you listening to me? I castrated a guy for you.”

“So that’s what you did… he wouldn’t tell me what happened at all,” he muttered, effectively ignoring everything else you did.

“….I followed you on a date, why aren’t you…” you couldn’t help yourself and grabbed his shirt, shaking him a bit. “This can’t be real. Why aren’t you scared?”

“You’re telling me things I already know.” He gazed down at you, his hand reached up and grasped the back of your head. “Why would I be scared if I liked it all?”

You blinked just as he kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his lips.

“You’ve watched me for this long,” he whispered, his hand slowly reaching down to grab your chin as he forced you to look up at him.

“But didn’t seem to notice that I was watching you too, (Name)-Chan.”

I’m bored so I made this longer than necessary. I always thought the idea of someone always having known they’re being stalked—making it easier for their stalker to learn stuff about them. That’s what he’s implying, btw. He didn’t stalk you, he just always noticed when you were watching him.

Reader isn’t a reliable narrator.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @remdayz @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @cherry-blossoms-187 @smellwell @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi @love-kha1 @secretivemessenger @mooncarvers-world @bensontrechic @yuzuukix @anchoredphoenix @roi-henri-xxii @m00n-b4b3 @ning1e

[aeluteria]

Pillows and glass walls

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆ summary: you develop a habit surrounding yourself with pillows when you sleep — as if trying to replicate certain someone's presence. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆ pairing: MC!reader x Caleb ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆ word count: 1,666 ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆ general info: hurt/comfort, fluff, not established relationship, longing Caleb if you look really close act surprised here ────── ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆ notes: proofread four times and all but it's possible there's still some mistakes since English isn't my first language. Enjoy!

After Caleb’s death, you’re haunted by nightmares, and you get used to sleeping surrounded by pillows. There’s something comforting about the way they press against your body from all sides, almost wrapping you in their softness. The pretty spacious bed narrows down to about half a meter all thanks to at least four pillows around you. One under your head, one in front of you, one under your arm, and one behind your back. The desperate longing for the phantom sensation of something's — someone's — presence is almost unbearable.

When you and Caleb used to stay up late watching yet another late-night show, he would often fall asleep next to you, allowing you to throw your arms and legs over him, even if it meant he’d have to spend the rest of the night in the same and probably — definetely — not so comfortable position. He knew he would wake you up the moment he tried to move away. Back then, you shared the narrow seat of the sofa in the gran's living room, squeezed together with your limbs intertwined.

Now, you try to recreate that feeling by placing a pillow behind your back, nearly trapping yourself between it and the one you so habitually throw your arm and leg over. The pillows are too soft; they don’t compare to Caleb’s strong, toned body, which you remember so clearly in your embrace. But… it’s something, at least. 

It becomes your ritual — a small tradition you follow almost religiously, day after day.��

One pillow goes under your head — as it should, just like most people sleep. 

The second one is tucked behind your back — a barrier, a false sense of protection, because you don’t like to sleep with your back exposed. 

The third one you hug, throwing a leg over it, pressing it as close as possible in an attempt to recreate that warm, familiar embrace. 

The fourth, the smallest, goes under your free elbow, covering your side and chest. 

You pull the blanket over yourself, hiding beneath its soft folds. And finally, you allow the warmth and weight to lull you to sleep.

The same ritual every night. 

A quirk that has become a necessity. 

Sometimes you wonder if it should be the first and only thing on your list of bad habits.

──────

After Caleb’s return, you continue sleeping surrounded by pillows. Caleb notices. Of course he does — how could he not? — and silently buys you a few more pillows, leaving them in your room in his Skyhaven apartment. He doesn’t ask where you got this habit from, but you feel like he’s already figured it out. Staying over at his place, you don’t change your ritual, turning the huge bed into a plush-pillow sanctuary. 

Caleb is back, but it feels like he’s further away from you than ever. The bed sheets and blanket smell of his cologne — fresh, familiar — and in those fragile evening moments, you desperately want to believe that you and Caleb are truly home again. 

That the muffled muttering from the living room isn’t reports and endless briefings that follow Caleb even outside of work — but the forgotten TV, its volume turned down to a minimum. 

That the lights of the city breaking through the curtains are in fact soft moonlight, cradling the summer night in its embrace. 

That you’re not in this big, almost lifeless apartment desperately clutching a pillow — but on a couch in the not-so-big gran's living room holding a drowsy Caleb, wrapped in the warmth of summer that you’ll spend together.

Caleb has returned to your life. But now, it feels like there’s a glass wall between you — right where the warmth, the tenderness, the infinite trust used to be.

It’s starting to crack. And behind the cracks you can sense all these familiar feelings and emotions trying to break through. But it’s not enough. 

You’re afraid that this glass wall will never shatter.

Even after Caleb’s return you’re still haunted by nightmares. Waking from them in the quiet of your own home became familiar long ago. But in the silence of the room at Skyhaven screaming in desperation and fear feels almost like a crime. You cover your mouth with your palm, your fingers tremble. The bed is a mess, pillows scattered across the floor except the one under your head. The nightmare’s grim reality still flickers in your mind, and you blink rapidly, trying to push it away. You don’t hear hurried footsteps down the hallway, only noticing them when they stop with the sound of a door opening. Caleb is standing in the doorway — disheveled from sleep, but alert and tense, like a spring ready to snap at any moment. He quickly scans the room, and finding no danger, softly approaches the bed, sitting on the edge. The mattress dips under his weight, and you hurriedly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, brushing away the tears. But Caleb still notices.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is slightly hoarse from sleep, and a wave of shame and guilt rises in your chest and washes over you. You nod quickly — too quickly for it to seem truly sincere.

“Yeah, I just… just had a nightmare. Sorry for waking you.”

Caleb reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It takes a lot not to lean into his touch, seeking comfort. Caleb notices — he himself touches your cheek with his palm, and you press into it, closing your eyes for a moment to catch your breath. Caleb caresses your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the damp trails of your tears. 

For a moment, it feels like the world narrows down to the two of you sitting across from each other. 

Almost like before, almost like in the past. 

Except that now everything feels completely different.

“Don’t apologize, pipsqueak. Want me to make you some warm herbal tea? It’ll help you calm down.” 

You know there are only a few hours left before his alarm goes off, but despite that he’s still willing to spend those precious minutes with you. You swallow the lump in your throat and shake your head with a faint smile.

“I’m fine, really.” “You’re still crying.”

Caleb traces a finger up your cheek to the corner of your eye, wiping the tear with his thumb. In his gaze you see familiar concern, warmth, and endless tenderness — and for a moment it feels like nothing has changed. 

Like you’re back on the narrow couch in the gran's living room, lazily debating who will fall asleep first. 

Like you're back in those carefree days when the biggest problem was deciding which flavor of ice cream to choose.

Like you’re back together for the whole summer, and even the coming separation when his vacation ends won’t overshadow this precious time. 

You reach out to him, wrapping your arms around his chest in the familiar gesture, nuzzling your face in the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower gel and closing your eyes. You feel him hold you back almost immediately. Like he was waiting for this. His breath catches for just a moment, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat quickening by a dozen beats per minute. Your heart seems to echo his.

“I dreamed that you…” “Shh, don’t think about it.” 

Caleb strokes your back, and you feel the warmth of his hands even through your clothes. 

“I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

He briefly kisses your forehead, touch almost ghostly on your skin.

“Caleb?..”

He pulls back slightly, looking at you with those impossibly beautiful sunset-colored eyes, and your heart tightens with unbearable tenderness. You gently touch his cheek, almost as if trying to make sure he’s real, that he’s really here, that he’s truly not going anywhere. Caleb turns his head and softly kisses the center of your palm.

“Stay with me tonight. Please.”

His eyelashes flutter as he blinks in surprise. In the dim light of the room you see his lips curl into a smile, the features of his face soften, and the worry fades from his eyes. Caleb lies down beside you, like he’s done so many times before, pulling you closer and holding you tight. His chest rises and falls, and you rest your hand on it. The cool metal of his pendant brushes against your skin, and you gently trace its contours with your finger. Caleb slowly runs his fingers through your hair, and you feel his breath on your forehead.

“I’ll stay with you forever. Just ask me.” 

He slowly strokes your back. 

His touch barely there, almost hesitant — as if he's afraid to disturb the fragility of the moment.

“...stay with me forever.”

You echo, closing your eyes as sleep takes over. Caleb pulls the blanket over both of you, and the warmth surrounds you completely. You finally let go, surrendering to sleep.

You don't realize that for the first time in many nights you didn’t even think about the pillows scattered on the floor.

You won’t need them tonight. 

And something in you wants to believe that from this very moment you’ll never need them at all.

The glass wall between you and Caleb seems to crack once more — and this crack is deeper than all of those before.

And through it, that familiar and long-awaited warmth breaks through, almost searing in its wake.

“No one will dare to separate us. Never again. I promise.”

He kisses your forehead briefly and his lips linger on your skin just a little longer than necessary. Then they slide down, brushing your cheek, teasingly touching the tip of your nose. Finally, they come to rest near the corner of your mouth.

You’re absolutely sure this warm touch of his lips so dangerously close to your own was just a dream.

And just as absolutely, you’re not sure you’ll ever admit to yourself that you don’t mind these kinds of dreams at all.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Anthony Robledo

The side effects of newly discovered COVID-19 strain XEC might not be as severe, but is part of the more contagious variant class, experts say.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) defines XEC as recombinant or hybrid of the strains KS.1.1 and KP.3.3., both from the Omicron family that became the predominant strain in the U.S. late December 2022.

The variant, which first appeared in Berlin in late June, has increasingly seen hundreds of cases in Germany, France, Denmark and Netherlands, according to a report by Australia-based data integration specialist Mike Honey.

XEC has also been reported in at least 25 U.S. states though there could be more as genetic testing is not done on every positive test, RTI International epidemiologist Joëlla W. Adams said.

"We often use what happens in Europe as a good indication of what might happen here," Adams told USA TODAY Friday. "Whenever we're entering into a season where we have multiple viruses occurring at the same time, like we're entering into flu season, that obviously complicates things."

What is the XEC variant? New COVID strain XEC is a recombinant strain of two variants in the Omicron family: KS.1.1 and KP.3.3.

The hybrid strain was first reported in Berlin late June but has spread across Europe, North America and Asia with the countries Germany, France, the Netherlands and Denmark leading cases.

Is the XEC variant more contagious? While there's no indication the XEC strain will increase the severity of virus, it could potentially become a dominant strain as Omicron variants are more contagious. However, current available COVID-19 vaccines and booster shots are particularly protective against XEC as it is a hybrid of two Omicron strains.

"These strains do have the advantage in the fact that they are more transmissible compared to other families, and so the vaccines that are currently being offered were not based off of the XEC variant, but they are related," Adams said.

Like other respiratory infections, COVID-19 and its recent Omicron variants will increasingly spread during the fall and winter seasons as students return to classes, kids spend more time inside and people visit family for the holidays, according to Adams.

How can we protect ourselves from XEC and other variants? The CDC continues to monitor the emergence of variants in the population, according to spokesperson Rosa Norman.

"At this time, we anticipate that COVID-19 treatments and vaccines will continue to work against all circulating variants," Norman said in a statement to USA TODAY. "CDC will continue to monitor the effectiveness of treatment and vaccines against circulating variants."

The CDC recommends that everyone ages 6 months and older, with some exceptions, receive an updated 2024-2025 COVID-19 vaccine to protect against the virus, regardless whether or not you have previously been vaccinated or infected.

Norman urged Americans to monitor the agency's COVID Data Tracker for updates to new variants.

KP.3.1.1:This dominant COVID-19 variant accounts for over 50% of cases, new CDC data shows

What is the dominant strain of COVID in the US? COVID-19 variant KP.3.1.1 is currently the dominant strain accounting for more than half of positive infections in the U.S. according to recent CDC projections.

Between Sept. 1 and Sept. 14, 52.7% of positive infections were of the KP.3.1.1 strain, followed by KP.2.3 at 12.2%, according to the agency's Nowcast data tracker, which displays COVID-19 estimates and projections for two-week periods.

KP.3.1.1 first became the dominant strain in the two-week period, starting on July 21st and ending on August 3rd.

"The KP.3.1.1 variant is very similar to other circulating variants in the United States. All current lineages are descendants of JN.1, which emerged in late 2023," Norman previously told USA TODAY.

COVID XEC symptoms There is no indication that the XEC variant comes with its own unique symptoms.

The CDC continues to outline the basic COVID-19 symptoms, which can appear between two to 14 days after exposure to the virus and can range from mild to severe.

These are some of the symptoms of COVID-19:

Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache Loss of taste or smell Sore throat Congestion or runny nose Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea

The CDC said you should seek medical attention if you have the following symptoms:

Trouble breathing Persistent pain or pressure in the chest New confusion Inability to wake or stay awake Pale, gray or blue-colored skin, lips, or nail beds

[crsssie]

a pathological people pleaser

word count: 4.4k

warnings: smut || pt 2 to and i wouldn't marry me either

summary: Jinshi's getting desperate to bed you.

夏

Jinshi contemplates what kind of a ring to get you. He really does. He looks through the designs that had been initially made for your marriage, but he finds inspiration in none of them. You would suit a ring that's crafted with only the finest of materials, not a ring that was just bought from the streets. Though, you had been going out with Maomao more often with some guards to have fun and buy food. At some point, the palace chefs are going to need to learn how to make a roujiamo that tastes like the ones on the street and not the fancy food that you had grown used to having.

He calls Maomao and Gaoshun for help picking a ring, but ultimately neither of them come up with something that would suit you. (He even asks his mother, but she is no help either.)

So, he rots in the confinement of your shared office, head spinning as he sketches more and more ring designs. The one of the current empress is nice, but it is not something of your style. The one that his mother had received was pretty as well, but not something that he desired to put on you. Perhaps a simple jade ring of your size would do better, but it seemed too plain compared to the kind of treatment he was supposed to give you. A simple jade ring would be fitting for him, but not necessarily for you. He would give you gold, but he wasn't quite sure what kind of a ring design would fit you.

He's gonna age from this, he swears.

Yet, he continues sketching at it between his paperwork, frowning at how big of a demand there are for eunuchs. The lower ranking concubines were still desperate, he finds. Perhaps especially with the announcement of his marriage... not announcement. He was married, but with the revealing of his marriage, it seems some concubines are getting desperate for some sexual release. Jinshi... really is no better than they are. He finds that he can't sit still around you these days.

He's... desperate. Yeah. Desperate is the right word.

"Rotting in here again?"

"You know, I'm starting to think you're actually Diu from your actions." Jinshi grumbles from his desk, shoving the paper with the ring designs to the side, catching your eye.

"To be fair, I am him, and he is me." You pick up the paper, tilting your head at the ring designs. "Designing rings for me? How sweet of you. Why not just use one from the treasury?"

"You deserve a new one." He groans. "I wanted to design one for you."

"Why not just gold?" You hum. "And then thread a pearl and jade orb through them."

"A jade ring would be nice." Jinshi hums, staring up at the pin in your hair. "To match your pin."

"Whatever you design." You hum. "I'm sure I will be satisfied."

"It has to be perfect." He mopes. "Or else I will not forgive myself."

"That's rather harsh on yourself." You hum, reaching for his brush as you sketch a design. "I liked the ring presented to the empress."

"The blue gem?"

You tap your chin. "Though, the gold isn't my favorite combination." You finish your sketch, noting down the color scheme, and Jinshi blinks at the choice.

"You just want a plain jade ring?"

"For the wedding ring." You blink. "The westerners are quite intriguing with the tales they tell. The women there boast many rings."

"You went to the west?"

You shrug. "A season is plenty of time to explore."

"She went to a port city." Maomao speaks up from the door. "Gaoshun is asking for the report."

"I sent it to him already?" You raise a brow.

"The one regarding the ceremony in the winter."

"Ah." Jinshi's fingers slide down the stack, pulling out a booklet between all of it. "Here."

Maomao nods, pausing as she catches wind of the ring design. "How about a ring with the royal family's seal?"

"I'm not becoming crown prince." Jinshi grimaces.

"I am sure the emperor would allow it regardless."

"I don't want a ring like that." You pause. "though, it would be quite a statement to wear it on the pinky."

"You want a divorce?!" Jinshi cries, heartbroken as Maomao leaves the room with the report.

"No." You shrug. "I might if you keep putting off the concubines' requests."

Jinshi jumps in his skin as he goes back to the papers, and you glance at the ring you've drawn.

"Carve a jade ring with a phoenix for our wedding ring. I do not desire gold." You hum. "And you are to have a dragon on yours."

Jinshi looks up at you, eyes gentle as he drinks in your figure under the setting sun, summer wind rustling the leaves outside, heat not too much to handle either. There is something delicate and breathless about you to him. You are worth so much, yet he had to spend such little time compared to the age of the universe to prove that you are his only one. Time is suck a fickle thing when it came to the clouds and sky. He supposes that's more a reason to treat you well and make up for time lost.

"Is that all you want?"

"What else would I want?"

"How about a jade pendant?"

"With the royal family's seal carved into it?"

Jinshi laughs. "Why not my last name?"

"Sure, pretty prince."

Jinshi flushes.

秋

You have tea with Ah-Duo a lot during fall. The weather cools bit by bit, and you sit in your yard, peeling the sugarcane as she looks through the files, humming at your writing, each stroke nice and clean. She puts the papers down, a maid rushing over to take them to your study, and she glances at the sickle and cane in your hand. It seems you have found new talents outside of the palace walls. It fills her with a sense of warmth, almost.

"How do you feel about the new eunuchs?" She hums.

"Some of them are rather attractive." You hum, not paying much mind as you cut off a piece for the lady.

"Is that so? Yue would have a heart attack if he heard you say that." She takes the piece, popping it in her mouth as she chews, humming. "It's sweet. I like it."

"That's good." You laugh. "I had the chefs just hand me whichever one." You continue to hack at the crop with the sickle. "Jinshi would be fine."

"I doubt it." She hums, spitting out the dry cane into the bowl prepared beforehand by the maids. "He is rather protective when it comes to things he desires... you included."

"It is only recently that he has become protective over me." You hum, putting a piece into your own mouth as you chew. She was right. It is sweet. "Which is also why he refuses to become the imperial prince."

"You would make a great empress."

"I would." You chuckle. "I have been raise for the role, after all."

"Though, this is better." She smiles. "You are happier like this."

"Oh, well as empress, I suppose I would not do too much. Jinshi, though? That poor man."

"He would have quite the work set out for him." She hums. "Though, you would be there to support him."

"I suppose." You hum. "It would be better had you been ascended to the position of empress."

"What is done is done." She hums. "I find it more amusing that your talk with the emperor of letting me visit worked."

You snort. "I saw the chance and took it. It would be a shame to not host you at least once in a house that is now warm."

"I suppose so." She smiles. "Does it not hurt to cut the sugarcane yourself?"

"It does not." You hum. "My hands are stained with sugar, and I work up a good sweat. I find it fun."

"Fun?"

You snap the plant in half, handing the peeled half to Ah-Duo as you continue with the unpeeled half.

She bites it, humming. "It is good. Is there a reason to cut it? I no longer remember."

"It's so you can get the most of it." You offer her one of the knives on the table. "Be careful not to cut yourself."

"I will." She nods. "Have you learned anything else?"

"A foreigner showed me how to peel a pomegranate." You pause. "Oh, and I have developed a strange talent for peeling oranges. It is incredible how clean it can peel with the right tools."

She nods, popping a piece into her mouth.

"How are the children?" You tilt your head, cutting another piece to put in the central bowl.

"They are faring well." She hums. "They are children, after all."

"I suppose." You mumble. "Jinshi went a little insane on their family."

"Not to mention he had full right, holding the army seal." She chuckles. "I heard from the maids that the imperial court threw a fit upon the realization that you had been holding onto something so precious and had just casually given it to Jinshi in order to save a maid."

"Not just any maid at the time." You snort. "Jinshi's dear maid."

"Of course." She smiles. "Though, he had been in love you. He had simply pushed it down."

"Like father like son, I suppose." You mumble. "Has the emperor visited?"

"Not yet." She pauses. "Is he planning so?"

You turn your head at the sound of footsteps.

"Jinshi." You hum, smiling.

He steps over to press his lips to your forehead, smiling fondly at your juice-stained hands, only freezing when he remembers his mother is with you. "...niang."

Ah-Duo waives her hand. "How cute."

Jinshi flushes, and you chuckle, pinching his cheek.

"You needed something?"

"The emperor is coming for a visit, niang." He pauses. "To our residence. He will be visiting the tearoom."

You raise a brow at Jinshi.

Jinshi shakes his head at you.

"Very well." You grin, shaking Jinshi off of you as you peel the sugarcane with eerie accuracy, cutting the rest into bits for the late consort to enjoy. "You can take the bowl."

"None for me?" Jinshi pouts.

"The emperor matters more in this case." You shrug. "I shall send some maids to accompany you."

"Alone will be fine." Ah-Duo nods. "Thank you."

You smile as she leaves, and Jinshi takes her spot, pouting at the sugarcane she had left behind.

"I want a bite."

You take the plant from him, cutting pieces off for him, watching as he chews, reaching for his throat as he threatens to swallow. This fucking dumbass.

You pry his jaw open, ignoring the fact that your hands probably taste like some sort of sugar, ordering him to spit it out. He listens, dry cane spat into the bowl you've held before his mouth, and his spit slides down with hit, the poor male panting like some bitch in heat. You let go of his mouth, exhaling as you mumble. "Good boy."

The words ring in Jinshi's head and shoot straight to his dick, and he licks your fingers unconsciously, eyes half-lidded as he tastes the sugar on them. Wait.

fuck.

He was NOT supposed to do that.

You freeze as something brushes your knee, and you stare into Jinshi's eyes as he stares back up at you, blinking rapidly, praying you wouldn't point it out. The two of you meet eyes, and you back up, sitting back down as the two of you wait for the other to speak up. Jinshi refuses to speak up.

You break the silence. "I'll wait."

"Thank you." He mumbles, cheeks red in embarrassment as he rushes off to somewhere private.

This is awful.

冬

some days you wonder how long Jinshi went without sexual release.

It's a strange thought, really. So, when you and Jinshi are wedded and you're waiting for him on the wedding night in your shared bed, you don't know what to think. Alright, wedded is the wrong word. The two of you are rewedded, and you are dressed in the robes the late empress had prepared for the two of you to sleep together in. You think it's too little, but apparently it's supposed to rile Jinshi up. Speaking of Jinshi, you wonder how he's dealt with getting boners. He... can't sleep with someone because he's a eunuch, but he can't just leave himself hard forever.

Jinshi stares at you from the door as you're lost in thought.

Skin. You're showing skin. He feels rabid at the sight— as though he were some carnivore in the wild, grew before his eyes. He feels as though he would go feral if he were to get his hands on you, so he stands there, collecting himself. He can't scare you off. He finally has you in his hands again, this time treating you properly, and he can't just scare you off because he's wanted to touch you for ages but couldn't.

"Jinshi?" You tilt your head at him, and he musters up a smile.

"I don't want to scare you." He pauses. "But I fear the maids did a little too good of a job with you."

He offers you a drink, and the two of you down it before you lick your lips to speak up.

"Why? You want to defile me?" You lean forward, almost as if to emphasize your point, and Jinshi flushes red.

"I really wonder how you learned to flirt like that when you were Diu." Jinshi sits next to you, fingers pushing your hair back as he leans in. "This is fine, right?"

"Would be funnier if I were Diu right n-" You're cut off as Jinshi presses his lips to have you shut up. He loves you, but god, were you infuriating sometimes. It was as though the winter and spring without him had changed you into a different person— not that he minded. You're charming no matter how you act or react. Your hair scrunches between his palm and fingers, and you tilt your head to give him better access, passion and longing staining your face as he presses his lips to yours and his fingers bloody with something he's wanted forever. Some sort of twisted passion beats from his chest to yours, a whimper spilling past his lips as you thread your fingers through his hair.

He only pulls away when you soften against him, chest pressed to his as he feels your muscles tensing from the lack of breath.

"You still with me?" He moves his hand out, your hair slipping between his fingers as you hang your head to breathe.

"I sure wish you weren't good at everything you did," You keep your head hung, unraveling his robes with ease, palming his cock through the fabric wrapped around his waist. Jinshi's hips shift slightly for more friction, and your hand presses down on his hipbone, forcing him to still as you pull on the strand to free him, licking your lips at his length. "I don't think you're going to fit, pretty boy."

"We'll make it fit." He hisses out as you let the spit on your tongue roll onto the tip of his cock, smearing the precum with your saliva, your fingers smooth against his length as you spread it. Jinshi whimpers as you do, the ring around your finger cool against his skin, and you lean in to stare up at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip as your hand speeds up. Jinshi whimpers, hand flying to wrap around your wrist and hold you still, and you tilt your head, yelping as he takes your lips pushing you back into the mattress. You lean into the kiss as he tugs on the bow, string coming out and top falling off with ease as his fingers brush your tits, thumb pressed to your nipple, humming into your mouth at the feeling of it hard. "Let me take care of you tonight." He huffs, pulling from you as he forces your tits up with his hands, pinching your nipple to catch a wince from you.

"Mean." You pout, no real annoyance on your face, and Jinshi busies himself with your chest, lips pressing a kiss to the meat of your chest, biting down— almost as though to mark you as his territory. It irks him some days that the maids still have lingering crushes on you from when you were Diu. So, his bites trail up from your chest to your neck, canines crazing over your pulse point as he bites down, hands sliding down to hold your waist as you crane your neck and whimper. Jinshi leans to force his chest to yours, and your fingers curl uncomfortably next to you as he sucks on your neck, purple blooming across your skin wherever his lips were.

"You're so pretty." Jinshi mumbles, finally pulling his lips off of you with a pop, staring down at you as you're suddenly aware that you are bare. You try to hide yourself but Jinshi makes work of his hands swiftly, holding your wrists together as he rolls his hips against yours experimentally. "I wonder how much of my reading is going to pay off."

"Studying through indecent literature? How sinful of you." You arch your back as he pulls your undergarments off, spreading your legs slightly as he slides his index finger down your slit, taking note of the slick threatening to spill out.

"I'd say this is worse, though." He slides a finger into you with ease, and you whimper as he curls it, nails slightly grazing your walls, making you gasp. "You sound so sinful like this. I sure hope you didn't let any other man see you like this."

"And if I did?"

"Then I'd suppose I'd just have to ruin their life." Jinshi straightens his middle finger as he curls his index out of you, sliding both into you at once. You shift slightly at the stretch. Jinshi curses under his breath at how tight you are. He doesn't want to break you your first night. So, he spreads his fingers in you slightly, thumb on your clit as he tries to loosen you. Instead, you flutter around him, only a light gasp freeing from your lips as he furrows his brows. He spreads his fingers, trying to make space for a third and get a reaction out of you. Instead, you don't react, simply shifting your hips to accommodate the stretch from his fingers.

"Am I bad?" He pouts, thumb finding your clit.

"No." You breathe, squirming from his touch.

"Am I average?"

"Jinshi, I have no idea. This is as much of my first time as it is yours." Your wrists fight against the grip of his hand, and he lets them go, lowering his face to your pussy instead, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he pulls you up. You back arches dramatically as he wraps his arms around your thighs, and Jinshi presses his tongue flat against your cunt, licking up as you jolt. He watches as your pussy flutters around nothing, and he slides his tongue in, moaning into your against as he tastes you. So this is what you taste like— some mixture of sin and lust, nectar that would put even the sweetest of peaches to shame. It would drive Jinshi to madness, he supposes.

Your fingers grasp at the pillow above your head, whimpering with each flex of Jinshi's tongue, and his fingers dig into your thighs, earning a squeal from your lips as you feel something tighten in your stomach. Your eyes widen as your nails dig into the sheets and your back arches impossibly more, tears in the corner of your eyes as Jinshi sucks at your orgasm, ignoring the mess of slick sliding down his chin and splattering onto the sheets. You turn red in embarrassment at the mess, but Jinshi pays it no mind, continuing to lap at your pussy, eyes digging into yours as he puts on a show for you. You look away from his eyes, opting to make a mess on his tongue instead, eyes rolled to the back of your head as a second orgasm crashes upon you. Jinshi drinks it up just as eagerly as the last, eyes half-lidded as

Your legs shake as Jinshi lets you down, fingers wiping the slick from his face as he pumps himself with it, and then sliding his tip beneath the hood of your clit to further coat his dick in your cum. You shift against his cock, grinding lightly into him as he chuckles. "Patience, beloved."

"I'd say you're worse than me." You heave, walls fluttering around Jinshi's length as he slides in. He notices the way your skin lifts with him inside of you, and he presses down on the bulge, blinking slowly. You gasp, stomach flexing out of instinct, pussy clenching around Jinshi with a hiss. Jinshi stays still, thumb brushing your clit to incite a reaction from you, earning him a lewd whimper. The sound shoots straight to his cock, head spinning as he slides his palm up your abdomen to your chest, pinching your nipple as he swallows.

"This is fine, right?"

"Insecure?" You roll your hips in affirmation. "I wouldn't have married you or let you catch me if it wasn't."

"Tease." He grumbles, taking your legs and folding them to your shoulders, forcing himself further into you. You moan, clenching around him as he moves, holding you down by the hips as he slams into you with each thrust, gasps slipping past your lips and colors in your vision as he moves. Flowers blossom in your lungs as you try to catch your breath, head spinning deliciously at the taste of Jinshi's lips on yours, a light fragrance from the rice wine he had taken mixing with the one on your lips, and you moan into his mouth, squirming from his touch. Your legs relax over his shoulders as he presses into you, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, hair sliding off his shoulders to cage you in as you whimper.

The wind rustles the trees outside as you cum around Jinshi the first time, brows knit together and eyes closed as your face twists from the unfamiliar sensation, head thrown back and lips parting once the crash ended, and Jinshi stills, hand reaching to brush your hair to the side, cupping your face with his hand. "You alright?"

"Felt weird." You mumble. "Did you..?"

"No." Jinshi hums. "Would you like me to? Inside?"

"I don't mind." You whisper.

"Alright," He starts moving again, focusing on himself as your legs slide off his shoulders and fall into the mattress, hooking behind his pelvis as he thrusts, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pistons into you, your breath caught in your throat as you see white and stars, drool threatening to leak down your chin and choke you with your head thrown back and muscles tense. Jinshi pants into your ear as he feels himself get close, pulsing and ebbing inside of you with each roll of his hips, your name spilling past his lips in some sort of raw desperation and begging, only spilling into you once you call his name back through your cloudy haze, white painting your walls as white fills your vision, the same white visible in the air on the snowy trees.

His breath mixes with yours as he rests his forehead on yours, bare skin pressed to yours, sweat and cum mixing with your own, the two of you merged as one. In the distant past, you loved him until it physically destroyed you, and in the distant future he will love you until he is stuck in the same destruction that had dragged you away from him. Only then would he forgive himself, lips spreading into a gentle smile, eyes staring into yours as yours are closed, catching your breath as your chest rises and falls, vine of hickeys and bruises trailing down from your neck to your waist. Your walls flutter around him as you recover from another orgasm, skin flushed like peonies as Jinshi tilts his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.

"Still with me?" He presses his palm to your cheek, palm brushing your skin.

"Yes." You pant, grimacing at the squelch that sounds when he pulls out of you.

"I wonder if we'll be with child."

"I doubt it's this easy." You mumble, lashes fluttering. "Would you want one?"

"Up to you." He mumbles, reaching to the side to pour himself another glass of wine. "We do not have to worry about succession either."

"Oh, I've never been so thankful to have not ended up where I was supposed to." You sigh in relief.

"You do not want one?"

"Not my priority." You hum. "Unless you wish for one."

"You are my priority." Jinshi hums, offering you a glass. "Another?"

"No." You roll onto your stomach to stretch your back. "We have plenty of time as well."

"I suppose." Jinshi hums, holding his hand out for yours.

You give him your right hand, and he pouts.

"Your left. The ring."

You free your arm and hold it out, and Jinshi kisses your knuckles gently, eyes closed as he hums contently.

"We match." He smiles, lips curled into a gentle smile, eyes full of a warmth you had forgotten he was capable of. You smile, a laugh bubbling out of your chest as he fiddles with your fingers, some sort of domestic ambiance filling the room. And just like that, your anxieties fade away, and a smile makes way on your face.

"I love you." He hums, lips pressed to your forehead as he lays next to you, still holding your hand, his ring brushing against yours.

"I love you too." and you close your eyes, body relaxing into his, heartbeat one below the missing sun.

[mariacallous]

The first thing to say about the hate and scorn currently directed at the mainstream US media is that they worked hard to earn it. They’ve done so by failing, repeatedly, determinedly, spectacularly to do their job, which is to maintain their independence, inform the electorate, and speak truth to power. While the left has long had reasons to dismiss centrist media, and the right has loathed it most when it did do its job well, the moderates who are furious at it now seem to be something new – and a host of former editors, media experts and independent journalists have been going after them hard this summer.

Longtime journalist James Fallows declares that three institutions – the Republican party, the supreme court, and the mainstream political press – “have catastrophically failed to ‘meet the moment’ under pressure of [the] Trump era”. Centrist political reformer and columnist Norm Ornstein states that these news institutions “have had no reflection, no willingness to think through how irresponsible and reckless so much of our mainstream press and so many of our journalists have been and continue to be”.

Most voters, he says, “have no clue what a second Trump term would actually be like. Instead, we get the same insipid focus on the horse race and the polls, while normalizing abnormal behavior and treating this like a typical presidential election, not one that is an existential threat to democracy.”

Lamenting the state of the media recently on X, Jeff Jarvis, another former editor and newspaper columnist, said: “What ‘press’? The broken and vindictive Times? The newly Murdochian Post? Hedge-fund newspaper husks? Rudderless CNN or NPR? Murdoch’s fascist media?”

These critics are responding to how the behemoths of the industry seem intent on bending the facts to fit their frameworks and agendas. In pursuit of clickbait content centered on conflicts and personalities, they follow each other into informational stampedes and confirmation bubbles.

They pursue the appearance of fairness and balance by treating the true and the false, the normal and the outrageous, as equally valid and by normalizing Republicans, especially Donald Trump, whose gibberish gets translated into English and whose past crimes and present-day lies and threats get glossed over. They neglect, again and again, important stories with real consequences. This is not entirely new – in a scathing analysis of 2016 election coverage, the Columbia Journalism Review noted that “in just six days, The New York Times ran as many cover stories about Hillary Clinton’s emails as they did about all policy issues combined in the 69 days leading up to the election” – but it’s gotten worse, and a lot of insiders have gotten sick of it.

In July, ordinary people on social media decided to share information about the rightwing Project 2025 and did a superb job of raising public awareness about it, while the press obsessed about Joe Biden’s age and health. NBC did report on this grassroots education effort, but did so using the “both sides are equally valid” framework often deployed by mainstream media, saying the agenda is “championed by some creators as a guide to less government oversight and slammed by others as a road map to an authoritarian takeover of America”. There is no valid case it brings less government oversight.

In an even more outrageous case, the New York Times ran a story comparing the Democratic and Republican plans to increase the housing supply – which treated Trump’s plans for mass deportation of undocumented immigrants as just another housing-supply strategy that might work or might not. (That it would create massive human rights violations and likely lead to huge civil disturbances was one overlooked factor, though the fact that some of these immigrants are key to the building trades was mentioned.)

Other stories of pressing concern are either picked up and dropped or just neglected overall, as with Trump’s threats to dismantle a huge portion of the climate legislation that is both the Biden administration’s signal achievement and crucial for the fate of the planet. The Washington Post editorial board did offer this risibly feeble critique on 17 August: “It would no doubt be better for the climate if the US president acknowledged the reality of global warming – rather than calling it a scam, as Mr Trump has.”

While the press blamed Biden for failing to communicate his achievements, which is part of his job, it’s their whole job to do so. The Climate Jobs National Resource Center reports that the Inflation Reduction Act has created “a combined potential of over $2tn in investment, 1,091,966 megawatts of clean power, and approximately 3,947,670 jobs”, but few Americans have any sense of what the bill has achieved or even that the economy is by many measures strong.

Last winter, the New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, who has a Nobel prize in economics, told Greg Sargent on the latter’s Daily Blast podcast that when he writes positive pieces about the Biden economy, his editor asks “don’t you want to qualify” it; “aren’t people upset by X, Y and Z and shouldn’t you be acknowledging that?”

Meanwhile in an accusatory piece about Kamala Harris headlined When your opponent calls you ‘communist,’ maybe don’t propose price controls?, a Washington Post columnist declares in another case of bothsiderism: “Voters want to blame someone for high grocery bills, and the presidential candidates have apparently decided the choices are either the Biden administration or corporate greed. Harris has chosen the latter.” The evidence that corporations have jacked up prices and are reaping huge profits is easy to find, but facts don’t matter much in this kind of opining.

It’s hard to gloat over the decline of these dinosaurs of American media, when a free press and a well-informed electorate are both crucial to democracy. The alternatives to the major news outlets simply don’t reach enough readers and listeners, though the non-profit investigative outfit ProPublica and progressive magazines such as the New Republic and Mother Jones, are doing a lot of the best reporting and commentary.

Earlier this year, when Alabama senator Katie Britt gave her loopy rebuttal to Biden’s State of the Union address, it was an independent journalist, Jonathan Katz, who broke the story on TikTok that her claims about a victim of sex trafficking contained significant falsehoods. The big news outlets picked up the scoop from him, making me wonder what their staffs of hundreds were doing that night.

A host of brilliant journalists young and old, have started independent newsletters, covering tech, the state of the media, politics, climate, reproductive rights and virtually everything else, but their reach is too modest to make them a replacement for the big newspapers and networks. The great exception might be historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose newsletter and Facebook followers give her a readership not much smaller than that of the Washington Post. The tremendous success of her sober, historically grounded (and footnoted!) news summaries and reflections bespeaks a hunger for real news.

[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[enjakey]

Where Have You Been

Pairing: figure skater!Sunghoon x archaeologist!Fem!Reader

Hello! This fic (20k) was posted in my old account that I have since deleted a long time ago. This is a new account so I’m reporting this here. I thought I’d never bring any of my old shit back but I love this series too much. If you’re wondering why this sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve read it a long time ago. Not because it’s plagiarized. None of my work is plagiarized, please understand that. My writing style is carefully curated from the many Japanese and Russian writers I engage with. This plot came to me after a horrible loss in my life- three years ago.

Please enjoy reading it. There’s a Jake version, too.

Summary: to the outside world, Sunghoon had it all- looks, friends, a successful career and a New York life. But he was lonely, brinking on the hope of never finding true love again. He’d come to the age of even giving up, watching some of his closest friends getting married and starting families. That is, until he met a curiously cautious archaeologist.

Heeseung | Jay | Jake | Sunghoon | Sunoo | Jungwon | Niki | Masterlist

THERE WASN’T A MOMENT where he felt the prospects and depths of loneliness until Sunghoon realised how everyone around him was settling down and he was still calling the ice rink the love of his life.

His childhood wasn’t particularly rocky, excluding the handful of break-ups he went through. He always had people around him everywhere he looked; standing over his head were his loving and supportive parents that invariably extended a hand when he needed to be picked up in any crisis; his sister looked over his shoulder like a hawk, keeping him from harm’s way and taking on the duty of an older sibling instead of staying the naive little girl like she was supposed to; he had a few friends in school who he used to pass free time or confide in once in a blue moon; then, there were the friends he made in summer camp who practically become his extended siblings through a year’s course of writing letters to each other and sending postcards through the mail.

They were a group of seven in total. Heeseung was an academic and music prodigy, excelling in any professional field he dipped his foot in to test the waters. Jay was a product of nepotism, aspiring to take over his father’s travel company after graduating with a business degree. Jake started as an engineering geek but eventually shifted his foundation toward the world of modelling, fashion and fame and eventually starred as one of the most wanted models for many designers and brands. Sunoo dreamt of starting a skincare brand of his own and studied chemistry and cosmetics in college- he was known amongst them for dying his hair in wild and bold colours. Jungwon, though he was in high school, was the most mature and responsible out of all of them, a taekwondo successor who had the most intricately detailed schedules to follow. Lastly came Riki, the youngest of all of them, who was the dance prodigy often compared to Micheal Jackson or Fred Astaire.

Sunghoon was an ice skater, his life and career revolving around gliding on frozen water and getting coached by previous skating Gods so that someday, he would reach their level. His mother always said he was fond of the sport because he was born in the winter season. On a cold night, while a hail storm plagued his small town, his parents drove to the hospital regardless of the risk of hypothermia and he was born. His cries overshadowed the whistles and whispers of the storm and the snow outside morphed to look like sakura petals slowly transcending off the trees to rot on the ground. He was used to the cold since the day he was born and would continue to master the skill of figure skating, treating the ice rink like a second home. Hence, he was dubbed The Ice Prince by those he called friends and family.

Moving to New York for the sake of starting fresh with his summer camp friends was a thought wilder than the dreams he had of living in a mansion and lounging in hot tubs as a hobby. But he wouldn’t be training in The Concrete Jungle if it weren’t for Heeseung and his elaborate plan of bringing all seven of them so he could focus on New York University and the rest of them could have a better shot at building futures and making careers. This meant leaving behind his parents and his sister but he told them that it would be for a few years and he would eventually come back due to homesickness. He told his friends in high school that he would keep in touch with them but it was an empty promise. Once he settled into his apartment with Jay and Jake, he was burrowing himself into a new home, a new lifestyle.

When he turned twenty-two, Sunghoon had no plans of moving back to Korea like he had told his family. Homesickness washed away with the worries of juggling between college and figure skating. Learning a new language and suppressing his urges of using Korean slang was also something that took up his consciousness while he went about his days. He was more prone to stumble on his sentences while speaking to a girl he liked or would mix up the definitions of words that sounded similar while speaking to his professors or skating coach. He paid for tutors to teach him the ins and outs of the language and eventually, he got the hang of it.

In high school, Sunghoon shuffled through four failed relationships, all ending with burnt bridges, fire setting ablaze the wood of what was left of love and desire. His first relationship was with the eccentric girl in class. She was always cracking jokes and making people laugh, only to come home to loneliness and an empty phone where no one bothered to reach out to her. He wouldn’t say he regretted dating her but it was a struggle trying to get her to confide in him. His second relationship was in sophomore year, wooing the new girl in class with charm, humour and wit but her feelings towards him came as soon as they had left and Sunghoon was left with unfulfilled promises and hopes from her. She taught him a lesson- to never rush into a relationship with someone he barely knew so his third relationship was with a close friend of his whom he had known for around three years. But their rendezvous soared downwards like a plane crash and left both of them with one less friend. His fourth relationship ended because of his abrupt plans of moving to New York. It was very brief, lasting around one or two months before they agreed on a mutual separation instead of opting for long-distance because those never worked. He didn't speak to any of them again and would be embarrassed even to contact them.

His love life was in the same state of shambles in New York. He went on a myriad of dates and blew racks of money for girls that inevitably left him because they weren’t good for each other or his affection just wasn’t enough. His relationship with girls he believed was his soul mate or future wife, too, left him high and dry with tears streaming down his face every time he was broken up with. He couldn’t understand what he was lacking and he didn’t understand why no matter the sacrifices he made or how many times he settled, he was always fucked over, lied to, or even cheated on. His trust issues surfaced after a redhead, his girlfriend of six months at the time, kissed a random tattooed biker in a club, right in front of him.

Growing up in a small town, Sunghoon was never taught the sophistication of emotions. There were only happy, sad, or angry and emotions surpassing that radar were almost taboo to discuss. His parents, though not the orthodoxy type and were well educated, didn’t seem to speak about emotions such as heartbreak or jealousy, nor did they talk about traumas that lead to trust issues, insecurities or social isolation. The public school he attended didn’t have the budget to hire a counsellor, hence most of his classmates were also unaware that they were contributing to the world of teenage angst and dilemma. They just went along with it, some victimising or being the victim themselves of bullying and other forms of distractions towards the world of young psychology and hormones. Sunghoon knew that guys would beat up another guy if they found them flirting with their girl, but he assumed the action stemmed from jealousy rather than the feeling of emasculation and embarrassment. He watched students bully the weak and short ones and assumed it was because they thought they were weird-looking and not because they were threatened by their aptitude and adroitness. He only started becoming aware of the association between actions and emotions when he began to accept the fact that he was feeling heartbreak, rather than simply labelling the ache in his chest as sadness.

Out of the seven of them, Jake was the first to get married, which came as a shock to everyone as he was barely twenty-three. He got down on one knee and slipped a ring on Chiara’s finger in the middle of the café where they had their first date. In Sunghoon’s eyes, Jake and Chiara’s relationship was what he would consider ideal. They would fight, but always came up with a solution; they disrespected each other but quickly changed the habit to make sure acts like such would never repeat; they spent months learning about each other and being patient with one another to the point where they could not only finish each other’s sentences but could decipher what one was feeling about or during a particular situation with simply a raised brow. By the time they were married, they were like a couple out of a Disney Princess movie, riding into the sunset on a pristine white horse. They were both models, and they didn’t stop each other from achieving other goals in their life. For example, Chiara was ecstatic when Jake took up photography and Jake was overjoyed when Chiara went to college to study psychology because seeing each other succeed was what made each other happy.

Sunghoon was the best man at their wedding. He planned the best bachelor party Jake could ask for and detailedly organised their wedding alongside the maid of honour, Sheila. They even went tux-shopping together while Jake helped him put on a blazer when he said, “You should bring a date to the wedding, it would look weird if my best man had no date.” Sunghoon looked at his best friend like he hadn’t cried about his cursed love life and failed luck in relationships with him all these years. It was then that he realised how hopelessly lonely he was. Jake was getting married to the love of his life, Heeseung had a girlfriend of two years and Jay was only starting to go on dates and he was already gushing about how he thought he found the one. Sunoo refused to indulge in relationships until he became successful enough to raise a family, which everyone respected. Jungwon and Riki were still single, but everyone was playing cupid for them, trying to set them up with mutuals so they could at least venture into the world of committed relationships.

It was then that he realised that perhaps, after all the relationships he had been in and out of and after all the girls that told him that he wasn’t what they were looking for, perhaps he was fated to die with no hand to hold on his deathbed and no wife to share his love of figure skating with.

Like most people in his generation, Sunghoon took to Google to find answers to his fears during many eras in his life. He fell into a rabbit hole of Reddit threads, telling him that the wait was always worth it and Quora sites on people sharing their experiences of finding their one true love much later into their lives. He read about an elderly woman who only met who she believed to be her soul mate in her sixties after her husband died of leukaemia and when all the hairs on her head turned a rich shade of grey. He even learnt about the compatibility between zodiac signs and called his mother to ask about his horoscope but it turns out his family didn’t believe in the astronomical and spiritual. He researched the meaning of moles which led him to cry to Jay while drunk about how the mole on his left pinky toe held him back from the chance of having a marriage, let alone having a girlfriend. He even went to the booth of a shady palm reader who told him to just wait until she comes- he wasted his money on a sham.

Not long after meeting the swindling palm reader, Sunghoon found himself crying in Chiara’s lap as she was the closest person he had to a sister that he could contact. His tears stained her expensive leggings and her carved nails raked his scalp while she cooed and hushed him out of loneliness. His sobs echoed between the windows and walls of their million-dollar apartment and the television played a random movie, abandoned by those who were previously watching it.

“Am I ruining your clothes?” Sunghoon sniffled and Chiara chuckled, letting her knuckles smoothly glide past the corner of his eye to wipe away his tears.

“Not at all, ‘Hoon,” she hummed. “But you gotta tell me if you’re drunk before you say anything else.”

“I had a beer before coming here.”

“That makes sense.”

Since Chiara had met him, Sunghoon’s most prominent quality was his habit of drinking. On a normal night of a weekend or weekday, he’d drink with or without his friends and go bar-hopping alone if he had to. Beer was his favourite drink but there were times he had gotten drunk on wine as well. It wasn’t to say that his alcohol tolerance was low, it was just the quantity he consumed that made those around him fear for his liver and his life. She remembered finding herself in unthinkable, yet memorable, predicaments due to his habit- she once had to talk him out of jumping off her roof because he thought someone dared him to do so. After learning about his history of failed relationships, she assumed that was where the habit stemmed from but she wouldn’t say he was the modern-day drunk Romeo, nor could he be clinically diagnosed as an alcoholic. He was just deprived of what he truly craved for too many years.

“Do you want to talk now, at least?” She cooed again, patting his hair.

Sunghoon nodded, willing himself to gravitate off her lap and against the plush cushions of the pristine couch. His hair bounced as he shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe his blotched face. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes struggled to stay open with the warm tears protruding past his lashes.

“At this point, I really don’t think I’m gonna find love, Chiara,” he frowned, slumping into his seat and pondering at the chandelier above him. If he tuned out the noises from the television, he could hear birds chirping, crickets singing and wind carrying wrinkled leaves across the building.

Chiara let out an exasperated sigh, pursing her lips and tilting her head towards the ceiling. “Did I ever tell you how lonely I was before meeting Jake?”

“What?” Sunghoon furrowed his brows. “Well, you did. But what does that have to do with this?”

“I’m saying that, before I met Jake, I barely had any friends and thought a guy that treated me toxically was the love of my life,” she explained. “But then I met Jake and suddenly, I wasn’t lonely anymore and he brought me good things. He gave me an opportunity to build a family, he loved me like no other, he cared for me, he respected me… and the list goes on,” she waved her hand, fingers frolicking amongst the air to signify glee.

“Yeah, and then you lived happily ever after,” he rolled his eyes, a scowl reaching his lips. “You met when you were teenagers. How old were you, eighteen? I’m in my twenties now. If I don’t meet the love of my life by thirty, I know I’m dying alone.”

“We met when we were teenagers because we just got lucky!” She defended. “Our love story was supposed to go a certain way and yours is supposed to go a different way. You can’t compare, you know? It’s just gonna make you feel worse. I mean, look at Sunoo. He hasn’t been on a proper date in years.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want to!”

“That’s not my point! My point is, you’ll meet her when the time is right-”

“Please don’t start with your destiny crap-”

“And you won’t die alone!”

When Chiara shook Sunghoon’s shoulder, Jake walked into the living room, a grin on his face as he looked between his wife and best friend. The sight wasn’t new to him; Sunghoon was moody over his teetering love life and Chiara was playing the therapist to install some faith and hope into him again. She was usually successful but on the occasions that she wasn’t, she’d let him camp on their couch and wallow over his emotions over a few drinks and lousy K-dramas. Jake would accompany him on most days and she would go to work or vice versa. Other times, they would call the rest of their friends and have a game night.

“Didn’t you say that you thought you were gonna marry a lot of the girls that you dated?” Jake’s grin didn’t leave his face. He leaned against the wall closest to the couch and crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe the next one you meet might be the real love of your life.”

“You’re not funny.”

Sunghoon turned twenty-seven faster than he anticipated. He was still figure skating; he was one of the most well-known figure skating coaches in New York, in fact. He had dyed his hair silver now, a choice of fashion he had made a couple of years prior and it simply stuck to his personality. His love life was barren at that point, entertained with a few one night stands or hookups once in a while. But he was rich and successful and was even famous amongst figure skating enthusiasts.

His friends were exceptionally successful as well, though they didn’t change as much as he did. Heeseung was a rewarded music producer, perfecting the tunes of many well-known and upcoming artists. He had a house down in the suburbs, living a rather tranquil and amicable life with his wife, Karina, and a pair of twins who were just starting kindergarten. Sunghoon would see him and everyone else on most weekends during the dinners hosted at Jake and Chiara’s exorbitant apartment.

Jake was considered one of the top models in the industry, his name often showing up alongside that of Lucky Blue Smith and Bella Hadid. A little while after his fame in modelling expanded, his photography career bloomed as some were published in Vogue and Cosmopolitan magazines. Chiara’s modelling career was similar to his, collaborating with the Hadid sisters, Emily Ratajkowski and even Kendall Jenner. With a degree in psychology, she even dabbled as a therapist while being propelled into an aristocracy. The couple’s mutual success would explain their bougie possessions. They had a son, Kai, around three years old, who was already babbling about becoming a movie director when he grew up.

Jay had taken over his father’s travel company when he graduated college. There was no denying his power and authority in running the business better than his father. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the spoon was getting bigger. His wife, Jade, was a childhood friend of his, the daughter of his father’s best friend and no one was surprised when their engagement was announced. Though, some speculated they were only getting married because he knocked her up. They now had a two-year-old daughter and everyone was hoping for her and Jake’s kid to grow up and get married.

It was funny, really.

Sunoo made regular trips between America and Korea, deeming them as business trips to check on how his cosmetics factories were doing. His brand was quite famous and a lot of Sunghoon’s past girlfriends- or flings- were regular customers of his. It was almost entertaining to watch when he told them that the owner of their favourite make-up brand was one of his best friends- some even tried leaving him for Sunoo but he was already engaged to none other than Chiara’s best friend, Sheila.

Jungwon, too, was engaged to a talented dancer to whom Riki had introduced him. Now, Jungwon, Riki and Ella own a dance studio, training kids who are passionate about the art. The three lived together as roommates in a cosy apartment that looked like it was out of a 90s sitcom; faint yellow paint, bathrooms with wallpaper and random wall decor that adorned every room. Riki was in a rather fresh relationship and refused to introduce his girlfriend to anyone until he was sure it was long-term- but Jay would always call him out saying, “Don’t even lie, you have terrible commitment issues. You’re gonna break up with her just like you did the last.”

Sunghoon loved his group of friends, he truly did. But the one thing that bothered him was that, at that moment, while he had the mall’s entire skating rink to himself and while he was gliding and the only sound was the sound of scraping ice, his friends were all involved with a girlfriend or life partner while he was still alone and his last rendezvous being a girl he met at a bar whose name he hadn’t even learnt because he kicked her out the next morning.

Usually, when he was skating alone, not busy tutoring boys who were overconfident about doing the pirouette or helping little girls who were scared to let go of the training handle and skate on their own, he would imagine himself in the stadium of a championship. His jeans and dusty shirt would transform into black pants and a red shirt adorned with rhinestones and loose sleeves tight at the cuffs. There would be a crowd cheering for him to perform his best figure skating tricks and throwing flowers at him and the ice would be cluttered with rose petals. His family would be sitting in the front row and his sister would have a poster larger than the size of her head with the words ‘WE LOVE YOU SUNGHOON’ written with cheap crayons-

That was his memory of when he was awarded the Novice Gold medal of the Asian Figure Skating Trophy.

Perhaps the sound of his blade shaving the ice as he figure-skated triggered such memories in him, furthering his homesickness. The frosty wind puffed up his hair and paled his skin more than he thought it could. All he heard was silence, along with what sounded like a whirring ice shaver.

The static in his ear lasted for about two more minutes as he let his thoughts wander into deeper corners of his brain, opening forgotten boxes of memories that either made him want to cry or laugh. But slicing through it all was the bleak sound of sneakers connecting with the marble tiles of the mall he was in. The Ice rink he was in was located on the ground floor of a rather small mall. Along with the ice rink, the ground floor housed shops of many fast food kiosks and beverage stalls. So, Sunghoon's feet tilted to stop his blades from moving any further and the sound of scraping ice was ignored when he faced the direction of the food stalls.

Jogging towards the boba tea café was a girl wearing old, musty sneakers and a stack of books between her arms. Her hair bounced as she finally stood in a long cue to give her order and her red-tinted lips pursed as she stood on the tips of her toes to see how long the cue was. She wore thin, silver glasses that complimented her eyes, and silver rings that matched the colour of her white nail polish. Her brown trench coat covered most of her outfit but she wore a white shirt and black trousers, a belt to top it all off. With furrowed brows, she checked the time on what looked like a vintage watch on her wrist, tapped her musty sneakers against the floor in haste and poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

Sunghoon didn't know how he noticed such details while standing at least a dozen metres away from this mystery woman. However, he could admit the clichés he was experiencing at that moment. The world around him stopped and everyone was moving in slow motion apart from him and the girl with silver glasses. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, his breath becoming more shallow with every passing second. A few feet away, a little boy's dollop of ice cream fell from his cone and his cries echoed across the floors of the mall. A few feet away from that was a woman who bumped her steaming coffee into another man and his curses could be heard from miles away. Just outside of the ice rink was a little girl holding onto the metal railings separating her from dry to ice and yelling to her parents about how she wanted to learn to skate. These were moments he usually noticed, but this time, it was all irrelevant because of the girl with silver glasses and red-tinted lips.

HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT took over him but Sunghoon found himself footing towards her with subtle steps. Out of his friend group, he was known to be the one with the best pick-up lines, smooth-talking girls into his apartment as easily as batting an eye. His grin charmed hundreds and he didn’t even know when he attained such ability. Perhaps it was around the time he stopped looking for love and started looking for rendezvous or perhaps it was after the time the palm reader robbed him of his precious twelve bucks. But now, he was nervous and he hadn’t felt this way since the first time he met his last girlfriend and that was years ago.

I should be running away, he thought to himself when he deciphered what he was feeling. It was almost like meeting a new friend again, a profound familiarity in his heartbeat. He asked himself what he planned on saying to her; what it was that people usually said when wanting to acquaint themselves with someone new. It wouldn’t be as simple as introducing himself, it wasn’t a café that they were in. It was a mall- people were bustling around with their own problems, talking amongst themselves and creating a buzz of sound that soon became white noise to him and they were worried about moving further up the line to get a drink, as was the girl he was standing behind.

His intention wasn’t to be a stalker or a creep but he could easily look over her shoulder and read the spine of her books. All the books were bound hard-cover and looked like they were taken out of an abandoned bookshelf. With the number of times Sunghoon had explored the mall, he figured she had bought them from the antique store located somewhere on the top floor. The titles on the books were almost faded but he could figure them out as academic works- some were about wars he had never even heard of and some were about archaeology. He deemed himself lucky when he recognised a title. “The Battle of Yangxia”, it read in faded, golden cursive and he fought his conscience to remember where he remembered the name from.

A few months ago, Jay was hyper-fixated on Chinese history and spent an entire dinner ranting about the several wars they were never taught in high school history. Riki had pestered about how high school education was useless compared to what he learnt in college and that led to a whole conversation on its own. That night, Sunghoon remembered laying on Jake’s balcony hammock with a beer in one hand and phone in the other, sexting some girl he found on a dating app.

“I’ve heard about that before,” he meekly mumbled, leaning to reach the girl’s ear.

The breath of air he let out after finishing his sentence tickled her skin, travelling down her neck and running a shiver down her spine. She didn’t register his sentence but his voice and presence made her look past her shoulder, brows furrowing with confusion. She hugged her books tighter, intimidated by a stranger. It would be the first time any stranger took interest in her, the perplexed gape of her jaw was justified.

“The Battle of Yangxia?” Sunghoon cleared his throat when they made eye contact, offering her a toothy grin whilst clasping his hands behind his back. He rocked back and forth on his heels, tripping while failing to keep up with the line moving forward.

“Oh,” the girl looked at her books, re-reading the same title he was talking about. “Yeah,” she smiled back, expecting the interaction to end and looking away. She almost rolled her eyes when he spoke again.

“My friend had a phase where he geeked out about Chinese history,” he continued leaning towards her, hoping to elicit more of an interaction from her. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she didn’t want to come off as rude or disrespectful so she introduced herself anyway. With another glance over her shoulder, she offered him a polite smile, ignoring the arm he had extended for a handshake.

Sunghoon cleared his throat and returned his hand to his back when he realised her rejection. He chewed on his lips, standing straight and continuing moving forward in the line while keeping his gaze on her hair, waves that flowed down her back that complimented her outfit. Then he stared at her sneakers which had worn-out laces and soles that looked like they had walked back and forth in the fires of hell. It almost made him chuckle but he figured she must have a reason for still keeping them.

“So, Y/N,” he mused. “Do you come around here often? First time I’ve seen you around.”

Y/N really rolled her eyes this time, clenching her jaw and poking her tongue into the flesh of her cheek. She wasn’t sure why she was getting annoyed. Normally, if someone tried making conversation with her or noticed her books, she would sheepishly respond with a plethora of nerves. But with this man, or Sunghoon, as he called himself, she wanted to move as far away as possible from him. But she thought she could humour him for some time, perhaps get rid of the pit- or butterflies- in her stomach. She couldn’t tell which it was but regardless, she took it negatively.

“You say that like you work here?” She looked over her shoulder with a scoff, lips almost pulling into a smile.

“I do, actually, work here,” Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m the ice-skating coach here.”

Y/N’s eyes almost widened, leaning to her side to glance at the huge ice-skating rink that was relatively familiar to her. For the time being, it was empty and if she squinted hard enough, she could see the fog of frost floating about the rink. “What’re you doing here instead of taking a class then?” she raised a brow.

“Even teachers need their breaks,” he defended with a pursed smile and shrugged. “And what do you do?” By the time he asked his question, Y/N had started ordering her drink. He interjected, asking for her to order the same for him but she looked at him with narrowed eyes, expression questioning his intentions. “I'll pay,” he offered enthusiastically.

“I’d rather pay for my own drink,” she tutted with a sarcastic smile and handed the cashier her money. “Thanks, though,” Sunghoon dug in his pockets to find change and he paid as well, rocking back and forth on his heels with crossed arms.

It was a moment of awkwardness as they waited for their drinks. Y/N stared at Sunghoon with eyes narrowed to slits, shifting her weight onto one leg and tapping her feet impatiently on the floor. Her shabby sneakers made thuds that were drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the mall, the rest of the world moving past them while Sunghoon looked everywhere but at her. For the first time in a long time, he felt dejected and incompetent in front of someone he intended to pursue. He wondered if she should take it as a sign to move on, simply walk away with his drink and never look back because he knew he would cringe and hit his head against his pillow. Yet another part of him wondered how it would feel to pry at this girl, Y/N, and find out whether attitude was the only thing she had to offer.

“I’m an archaeologist, by the way,” she told him while grabbing their drinks. She smiled at him before handing him his tiger milk boba, struggling to keep her books in her arms.

“That’s cool,” Sunghoon grinned, taking his drink from her. “You need help with those?”

“No,” she assured and stepped back, giving him a small wave before walking away.

He stared at her as she made her way to the exit and he could see the corners of her books peeking from her grin, jogging as she drank her traditional boba tea. “Can I get your number, by chance?” he called out and he was sure she heard him but chose to ignore him. Regardless, he walked away, too, with a smile on his face and a skip in his step as he caught hold of the straw in his mouth.

After that interaction, Sunghoon drove to Jake and Chiara’s house like there was no tomorrow; like his heart would stop if he didn’t tell his best friends about the girl he had just met. He wanted to tell them all about the girl who showed him attitude but attention at the same time and he wanted to tell them about how she was an archaeologist. He wanted to tell them about her battered shoes and he wanted to tell them about every single time she smiled at him because, God, did it feel like a breath of fresh air after talking to Y/N; like it was his first time tasting sugar; like his dreams had come to life.

When he burst through his friends’ door, he took no time rushing in and asking for everyone’s attention. The smile on his face lit up the room brighter than the chandelier ever could and Jake couldn’t remember the last time he saw his best friend that way. From the kitchen, he heard Jay asking what all the ruckus was about and Sunghoon skipped towards him, grabbing onto the chair beside him and slipping into the seat.

“I have to tell you guys something,” Sunghoon gushed but his brows raised when making eye contact with Jay. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“Having lunch?” He responded with his mouth stuffed with bok choy and egg, chopsticks held in the air as though he was asking how more obvious his predicament could be.

“What is it?” Chiara entered the kitchen with Kai in her arms, Jake following suit with widened eyes and an excited grin.

Sunghoon ushered everyone to sit and took Kai in his arms. He let there be a moment of curiosity while everyone begged him to tell them what he was excited about and why he was smiling like he had just seen a rainbow. The kettle whistled while Chiara guessed that he might have gotten selected for a figure skating show and the oven dinged when Jake guessed that he probably bought another dog. Sunghoon was known to adopt dogs- he had six in his home being cared for by a caretaker he had to hire.

“Well,” he started. “Guess what Kai? I met a girl,” he cooed with a toothy smile, kissing the kid’s dark hair who laughed in his lap and clapped. Kai looked at him with curious eyes, having no clue what it meant but was excited by the smile on his uncle's face.

Jay and Jake’s expressions dropped, sighing with the anti-climatic news. “Another girl,” the latter rolled his eyes but his wife slapped his bicep in disappointment.

“Don’t be that way,” Chiara tutted and turned to Sunghoon with glimmering eyes. She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table. “Tell us about her.”

And so Sunghoon told them everything he could muster up while hugging Kai like he was his anchor to reality. His friends listened to him intently, wondering if this encounter would end like all the others. While he talked about her, Chiara and Jake were reminded of how they first met in a photoshoot that started awkwardly but ended in an unexpected friendship. When Sunghoon told them she was an archaeologist, Jay suggested they google her as Jake and Chiara left to sleep.

Jay and Sunghoon spent the rest of the night on Google with a couple of beers, going through any article with her name mentioned. They didn’t find any social media but they did stay up reading one of her papers that had been published on artefacts dug out in Cairo, devouring hours of their time carefully decoding the meaning of words they had never heard of or learning about people they’d never learnt of.

When they were done reading the paper, Sunghoon slouched deeper into the chair and threw his head back, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling and ask himself if he were crazy for Y/N or crazy for love. “Do you think I’ll ever see her again?” By that time, Jay was fast asleep, his face pressed onto the cold table. Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head, his hair falling over his forehead. He dragged his palms down his face, willing himself to stay awake. “Will I fuck this up?” he whispered.

That same night, Y/N had settled in the public library with her books and her students’ previous test papers. The glare of her laptop sored her eyes while she looked through mark scheme upon mark scheme. She must say, she would get quite disappointed with some of her students. Ones that had potential were the ones that flunked their exams and those that did well in school were the ones she saw no future for. In only her second year of teaching, she wondered if she would stay a professor and the esteemed New York University or if she would get another chance to go another dig like she did in Cairo a few years ago.

Her life was peaceful when she wasn’t travelling or going on year-long digs. It was filled with old artefacts, books that could fall apart if she held them the wrong way and cracking paintings that either hung on her walls or stacked behind her closet. The latest addition would be grading test papers and prolonged essays. Sometimes, she liked this life. It would get lonely but her golden retriever, Blue, would keep her company. Her apartment was void of emotion but she was rarely home anyway. Other times, she missed being around people she could converse with. She missed sitting under the sun with a straw hat on her head, brushing away at the sand to uncover an old statue with people that she could laugh with.

By the time she was finished grading papers, the library was empty and her head was swarming with thoughts about the man she met in the mall. Sunghoon, as she recalled his name, wasn’t hard to find online. There were videos of his younger self competing in figure skating tournaments, working in the mall with a pearly smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes and though he didn’t post much on social media, he was all over model Jake Sim’s Instagram. He was best friends with him and even knew an upcoming producer, Heeseung Lee. She even found pictures of Sunghoon Park with his natural black hair.

On the way home, she watched all the videos she could find of him figure skating, the glow of her phone illuminating the back of her cab. When she found herself smiling, she put her phone away and gazed at the street lights, wondering if she would ever see him again. When she saw a few Chinese restaurants and convenience stores still open, she realised she should have gotten dinner before going home. There were no groceries in the fridge or her cupboards. Perhaps there was some milk left. Y/N’s ego was too big to even ask her parents for a loan.

She was reminded of how she had a roommate a few years ago- Anna. She used to be the one who restocked groceries and cooked dinner, sometimes even reminding her to take care of herself and sleep; the responsible one, essentially. It used to be fun back then when they would sometimes stay up late and binge dramedies or gossip about whatever their work lives had to offer. Now she was somewhere in London, working with Bellerby Globemakers as a cartographer and left Blue for her to take care of. They lived together because it was easier to pay rent and serve food on their plates. Now they were in better places in life, earning more money than they previously were yet Y/N still struggled to keep her schedules in check. Oh, how she missed having a roommate.

The coming weekend, she willed herself out of bed and into a grocery store. Y/N realised that some of her fondest childhood memories were amongst the isles of many stores similar to the ones she was in. She laughed the loudest when her father pushed her around in one of those bright and colourful trolleys kids could sit in and her eldest brother always let her buy whatever junk food she wanted, regardless of what their mother said. She remembered how she would shoplift stationery with her cousins until she turned nineteen and she still had some of the pictures she took with her high school friends in the breakfast cereal aisle.

She also noticed that it was during times like this, when she wasn’t preoccupied with work, that her thoughts would wander off to Sunghoon- the boy she dubbed a handsome stranger with pouty lips and starry eyes. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she was approached by a stranger who wanted to strike up a conversation. These days, the only social interactions she had were with fellow professors from the university, her students, her family or the occasional text on social media that she never bothered responding to. Though she realised she was awfully mean to him, she had forgotten what it was like interacting with people.

Y/N forgot when she became so introverted. Or rather, she forgot why she became comfortable being an introvert. Back in high school, she remembered always wanting to go out with her friends on the weekend and she remembered unapologetically making acquaintances with any human that crossed her path. Now she was reserved, too shy to approach anyone and building up her walls every time someone had something to say to her. Maybe it was a phase she would never grow out of- her parents did always say that in your mid-twenties, your personality kind of just sticks.

Her cart was filled with frozen foods and bags of fruit by the time she stood in line to check out. Impatiently, she tapped her foot on the floor and checked her watch, wondering when she could go home and heat a pizza for lunch. From what she remembered, she still had her new books to finish reading for the updated syllabus in class and she committed to cleaning her apartment so that was what she was going to do for the rest of the day. Eat, read, clean and repeat.

While Y/N stood in line, Sunghoon and Riki were walking past the same grocery store. Sunghoon stopped in his tracks when he recognised her from the corner of his eyes, through the glare of the glass doors. She was wearing that trench coat again and her feet were clad with the same worn-out sneakers. Her fingers were adorned with vintage, silver rings, this time and he noticed how her shopping cart was basically a stack of frozen pizzas and a few green apples. He chuckled mindlessly to himself.

Riki continued walking for a good ten seconds before he realised his friend was peeping into some shop with the brightest smile he’d seen on him in days, eyes gleaming under the sunlight. He swore he saw his entire body glowing from some kind of happiness he didn’t understand.

“Hyung?” Riki called, raising his brows and slightly stretching his arms as though he was asking what made him stop walking. “What are you staring at?”

Sunghoon didn’t move his gaze or falter his expression but instead continued to wave Riki towards him, flailing his hand around in the air in a way that made him look stupid. “You remember that girl I told you about?” He asked when he approached him.

“The one from the mall?” Riki confirmed. “The one that acted like a bitch?”

“Hey, I never called her that,” Sunghoon stood straight again, furrowing his brows at the boy.

“Well, you described her that way,” Riki raised his hands in defence, pursing his lips and taking a step back. “What about her, though?”

“She’s in the store,” Sunghoon pointed a thumb towards where she stood and Riki traced his gaze in her direction. “The one in the trench coat?”

“Oh,” Riki cocked his head to the side. “She’s pretty. But I’m getting late for work and you promised you’d visit the studio today,” he argued, face falling into a frown.

It wasn’t that Riki was uninterested in his friend’s love life- he knew how much he craved a significant other; someone to love and to be loved by. Yet, this time, the boy was only pulling Sunghoon’s attention away because he was sceptical of how it was going to end. No, he didn’t have faith in the fact that Sunghoon and Y/N could end up happy, solely judging from past experience.

He’d seen how much he was hurt by all the girls in his past. He was there when Sunghoon would stumble into one of their houses drunk, whining over heartbreak for probably the hundredth time. Riki was there to take care of him on nights when he was supposed to be studying for his finals and he was there when Sunghoon would introduce yet another girl to the group- he would call out their flaws every single time and he was right about the girls every single time. Though he hoped his predictions would turn out wrong, he knew his judgement was usually right.

He still remembered meeting that one red-head ex-girlfriend of his from a couple of years ago. Sunghooon had brought her into Jake and Chiara’s kitchen and he just knew that she would cheat on him. He presumed it was something about the way she smiled or the way she shook his hand that gave him a negative first impression. She was the sultry type, and though he had no issue with that, it didn’t mean she could use it as an excuse to flirt with every other man in the room. Riki was right about her and it would only make sense if he assumed he would be right about Y/N- she wasn’t a good idea. But for Sunghoon’s sake, he decided to think positive thoughts- maybe they would work out and he would get married and finally allow Riki a chance to be the best man in someone's wedding.

“Riki, just wait for like, ten minutes,” he pleaded. “Yeah? I’ll just… say hi and come back.”

“My, God,” Riki rolled his eyes while Sunghoon slowly stepped towards the entry of the store with a lopsided grin. “Fine, go,” he shook his head in disappointment and stared at the rest of their interaction from the other side of the glass, gagging with a cringe.

Sunghoon walked into the store with a skip in his step, grabbing the nearest candy bar and beelining towards the check-out line. He didn’t know where he got his confidence from- when he saw her for the first time in that mall, he was a nervous bundle of a mess but now, he stood right behind Y/N and he smiled when he knew she didn’t realise. So, he leaned towards her ear and said, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Y/N recognised his voice immediately, swinging around with a gasp of surprise. She covered her gaping mouth with the back of her hand, her glasses reflecting the ray of sunlight when she made eye contact with him. When she comprehended his figure, she felt a wave of relief wash down her torso. “You scared me,” she moved her hand to her chest, gulping. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” she breathed out a smile.

“That too, in the same predicament,” Sunghoon smiled back.

The pair moved to the front of the cue and he helped her stock her items onto the conveyer belt. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked. “Stalking me?”

“No,” he mused innocently. “But if that’s what makes you feel better…”

“Oh, please,” she brushed him off and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey, we’re meeting in a checkout line for the second time. Don’t you think it’s fate?”

“You’re stupid if you believe in fate,” she laughed at his pouting expression. “Seriously, you believe in that crap?”

“Don’t make me feel bad about it, I have a good reason,” he defended.

“Well, what’s the reason?” She paid the bill with her phone, waiting for an answer from the handsome stranger.

He smirked at her, digging one hand into the pocket of his trousers and the other bringing the candy bar to his chin. He looked her up and down, raising an eyebrow to question if she knew what response would come. When she repeated her question, he asked, “I’ll tell you about it on a date sometime?”

SEEING SUNGHOON SKATING ON the ice rink in jeans and a shirt that barely insulated his torso was like watching birds flying freely with their wings spread in freedom. Y/N supposed that after years of dedicating his time to the rink, one would most likely get used to the cold. He had the brightest smile on his face, the type that made his cheeks bulge and his eyes disappear into his eyelids. His teeth glimmered pearly white behind his pouty lips and she wasn’t sure she had the heart to join him and ruin his solitude.

Over the past few months that Y/N spent getting to know Sunghoon, she realised how much he enjoyed his own company. It was ironic really, how he was known as the womaniser amongst his friends but would separate hours in his schedule just to be alone in his apartment with a beer and an old movie, in solitary with his thoughts and his six dogs. She also learnt that he kept a diary, entries meticulously planned in a manner that allowed him to write the smallest details of his day. It would explain the locked drawers in his room- a precaution he consciously took part in because he knew his friends would snoop if they ever found them. He agreed he told them pretty much everything but every man needs a secret of his own, he would say.

Even with their busy schedules, both being teachers of some sort, they managed to squeeze in a few dates after class, for lunch, during the weekends or late-night walks in the park where the moon was waxing but the stars weren’t as prominent due to New York’s pollution. She was even a frequent visitor at his apartment after the first month of knowing him, often sleeping over because she was too lazy to catch a cab and refused to let him drive her home. The latter was mostly because she was scared to bring him to her apartment, the messy space between four walls she lived in that hadn’t been rearranged or properly cleaned in over a year. At least there were no bugs hiding in nooks and crevices.

On the nights she spent in his apartment, one that was only slightly bigger than her own, they’d find themselves lying on his couch, his chin on her head, as they watched a random black and white movie they couldn’t help laughing at. His dogs would be with them, some gathered on the floor and others burrowing themselves in the spaces on his couch. Some nights, they would doze asleep and other times they’d end up in conversations where Sunghoon would talk about his days in high school with a roll in his eyes or about his family with the same smile he would have while skating on the ice rink. He would tell her about his tight-knit group of friends and he would talk about his struggles with perfecting the English language. Y/N would tell him about her siblings- four brothers and three sisters- with whom she talked to every day but had no idea of how she struggled financially sometimes. She would tell him about her international escapades when she went on archaeology trips and to make him feel better, she would tell him that her high school experience wasn’t something she wanted to look back on either.

She still remembered the first conversation they had when he took her out for the first time. He brought her to an upper-class restaurant for dinner, the pair dressed in formal attire to fit the aesthetic. Y/N had panicked at first, rambling about how she wasn’t sure if she could afford it but he assured her that he got the tab and that their table was already reserved so she had no other choice but to accompany him. With a grin, he led her to their table and pulled her chair out for her like a gentleman from a family with old money. The restaurant had golden chandeliers and a menu that went on for an unlimited amount of pages. For the first few minutes, they sat awkwardly, having no idea how to start a conversation but then she told him how it had been years since she came to a fancy restaurant as such and the pair couldn’t shut up around each other since then.

Their other dates included trips to museums where Y/N would effortlessly describe every artefact or painting on display and Sunghoon would listen to the historical anecdotes she had to offer. They once spent hours at The MET- she knew the history and he knew the celebrity galas that would take place annually. He took her to a bookstore once and he realised that if she could, she would have bought half the books in the store. She told him that she could finish an average novel in one and a half days and he refused to believe her unless he witnessed it first-hand. It was a bet the pair had forgotten about but he brought it up during a random phone call but she never found the time to prove herself.

“Come join me, Y/N,” Sunghoon waved for her from the middle of the ice rink and she nervously shook her hair.

Surprisingly, it was the first time he took her ice skating. One would assume it would be the first date he’d take her on because it was all he could talk about sometimes. Meanwhile, Y/N had never been ice skating before. She wasn’t much of a sports enthusiast either so convincing her to play any form of sport would be taking her miles away from her comfort zone. Her biggest form of adrenaline would be riding a high-risk amusement park ride or teaching a class on Malta’s catacombs without previous preparation.

“Come on,” Sunghoon encouraged again, slowly making his way towards her with his hands stretched in front of him and an excited smile beaming on his snowy features. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll hold your hands until you get the hang of it.”

His bare hands hold her glove-clad pair and her gaze stays on the way he holds her and wistfully walks her into the ice. She almost trips at first but after a few rounds of stomping and digging her skating blades into the ice, she could skate on her own without trembling or shaking. Sunghoon made rounds around her and took pictures of her, commenting on how she looked cute with a helmet on her head and a puffer jacket on her shoulders. She giggled and tried covering up the camera of his phone but failed and focused on balancing herself instead.

When Sunghoon giggled, she found herself staring at him for longer than she usually would. When she agreed to go on a date with him all those months ago, she wasn’t expecting herself to enjoy his company. She expected them to come out in the end as friends but then she found herself texting him every morning before waking up and every night before falling asleep. She thought about him every moment she had to herself and waited for the next time she could potentially meet him. She found herself noticing and making note of his small habits and characteristics and she wondered if he prioritised her the same way.

The last time she remembered feeling this attached to someone was in high school. Her brothers had warned her about the boy she had been getting close to and even threatened to harm him if she was harmed. They had dated for a short period, their relationship questionable to her siblings but deemed perfect by her friends. When they broke up, she remembered spending weeks crying over loneliness and it was then that she realised how toxic it all had been. With that memory in her head, she approached Sunghoon with more caution, especially while knowing his history with women.

“It’s getting late, no?” He pulled her to the exit of the rink by her hands, softly whispering in her ear. “We should probably head home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, pulling off her gloves and jacket while he helped rid her of the horrid helmet that messed with her hair.

“I’ll drive you home?” He offered but was met with a brief moment of silence.

He waited for her to respond, her smile slowly fading from her face, replaced by exhaustion and fatigue. Y/N thought about how she hadn't enjoyed herself in so long and the only reason she was ending her days with tiredness from activities was because of Sunghoon. If she was being honest, he was probably the only person she had been outside her house with since Sarah.

“I don’t wanna go home,” she admitted, a shy purse on her lips.

Sunghoon chuckled and kneeled to help her off her skating shoes. “I just realised you’ve never taken me to your place,” he mumbled. “Why not tonight?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I like your apartment better.” “Are you ever gonna let me in your apartment?”

“Well, not today,” she passed off her comment as a joke but realised how put off he was by this. His gaze lowered and his lips pressed into a straight line. She wasn’t sure if she was even saying the right things anymore. “Can we just spend the night at your place for now? Come over next week, I’ll introduce you to my sisters.”

With that, Sunghoon complied with a smile and the pair spent the night cuddled in his bed, falling into a deep slumber.

Y/N spent the next week cleaning her apartment to perfection, not like before when she’d just scrub her tables and collapse from laziness. No, she put her heart and soul into making her apartment look presentable. Her countertops showed her reflection and her tables were organised after what felt like decades. Paintings and piles of books sat on her bay window which she excused for aesthetic purposes and her carpet wasn’t lined with Blue’s shedding anymore. She didn’t just do this for her sisters, she realised it was mostly to give Sunghoon a good first impression. Her sisters knew she was messy but getting to know someone new and allowing them into a messy apartment was like being handed the death sentence in her books.

The day her sisters would visit rolled around in less time than she expected. They brought her huge bouquets of flowers and home-cooked meals to have together for dinner. God knows how long it’s been since you must have cooked, they said while pinching her cheeks and for the first time in a long time, she was reminded of how much she used to dread being the youngest sibling of eight. Willow and Rose, being the eldest compared to Laurel and Y/N, tended to baby them to the point of frustration. They were adults now, living independently with their individual families but the oldest siblings still had their way of annoying the youngest.

All her brothers, Willow and Rose were married and Laurel was very recently engaged. Using that excuse, they crashed at Y/N’s apartment when they weren’t out celebratory shopping. From the second they entered her house, it felt like all hell had broken loose; like a tsunami of opinions had been unleashed. Willow was tutting at her messy fridge and Rose was opening and closing her cupboards in hopes of finding cleanliness but there was no hope. With a pitiful smile, Laurel sat on the couch with her arms crossed and Y/N joined her.

Over the next few hours, she had an earful of how she should move to an apartment with paint that didn’t chip off her walls and how she should rid herself of some of her useless positions. They demanded to go grocery shopping later and insisted on cooking dinner because she looked like she hadn’t eaten in over a century. At the end of the day, Y/N was the youngest of them all and would be pampered the most.

She formed an image in her head where she was surrounded by her three sisters with forks, spoons and chopsticks piled with food being shoved down her throat. Her tiny table was filled with dishes from all sorts of cuisines and juices of all kinds of fruit. As the cherry on top, there was a giant chocolate cake placed right at the centre. She was trying her best not to choke on the food, her cheeks swollen red, while her sisters wore hearty smiles, oblivious to her suffering from their smothering care.

“Make something nice for dinner, then,” Y/N stopped herself from flinching at the image in her head, one that would surely haunt her in her dreams. “I’ll introduce you to someone.”

Sunghoon didn’t realise how nervous he was to meet Y/N’s sisters until a few hours before he had to meet them. It was a mix of excitement and dread; his lack of confidence in himself to impress a potential partner’s family. He had texted her relentlessly, asking the most mindless doubts about what colour clothes to wear, if he should bring them any gifts or if he should dye his hair back to black because his platinum blond felt unprofessional all of a sudden. He wondered if they would disapprove of his profession and chalk it up to the fact that he had wealthy parents but he had to remind himself that Y/N’s profession wasn’t providing her with much earnings either.

Y/N responded to his texts calmly, which brought him the same effect. He found himself taking deeper breaths and told him that this wouldn’t be the first time he’s met a girl’s family. It was just her sisters which meant he wouldn’t have to face the wrath of her brothers yet. From what she had told him, they could start a boxing match with him in the middle of the road if they thought he wasn’t good enough for their sister. He wondered how some of the sisters managed to get married with such protective brothers.

Y/N gave him simple advice: compliment Willow's hair, she’ll like you instantly; bring chocolates as a present and Rose will be the first to commend you; ask Laurel how she met her fiancé, she loves telling the story; and don’t make it obvious that I gave you this advice.

He repeated these points to himself as he stood in front of her door, a box of gourmet chocolates in his hands and a red scarf tied around his neck. Dramatically, for his own satisfaction, he breathed heavily and told himself that dinner would go perfectly as planned if he just stuck to the advice.

Compliment Willow's hair.

Give Rose the chocolates.

Ask Laurel about her fiancé.

Be natural.

Then, the door opened before he could knock thrice and Y/N stood in front of him on the verge of sweating, a faux and toothy smile on her face. Her widened eyes told him to hurry inside the apartment and he made a point to slip his shoes before he followed her into the living room.

Her apartment wasn’t what he expected. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he expected. When he would imagine her in her apartment, he would simply picture a space similar to his home; white walls, minimalistic furniture and large balconies. But her apartment was something he would expect out of Pinterest, the type that girls swooned over as dark academia but in reality was just messily decorated and cleaned. Her walls were ivory with chipping paint, her couch a mustard yellow and her shelves overflowing with books that she had to pile in corners of her room. There were a myriad of paintings, some framed and some not, some hung neatly on the wall and others leaning onto any flat surface. He also spotted random artefacts, ones he was sure she would give a backstory of when the dinner is over.

“Sunghoon,” Y/N whispered rather agitatedly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a shy smile. “Just checking out your apartment.”

Rolling her eyes, she led him to the kitchen, her sisters swallowed in a conversation at the dinner table. The three sisters ceased their exchange in silence with smiles as welcoming and warm as the dishes on the tables. To his relief, he didn’t have to introduce himself. He simply stood there, palms sweating, legs on the verge of folding and a toothy smile that he would not want to be photographed in, while Y/N introduced him to her sisters and rid him of his scarf.

“You’re just on time,” Rose cheered with her hands together, ushering Sunghoon to the empty seat beside her. “And you brought chocolate!” She cheered as he made himself comfortable in the wooden chair, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. He weaved his fingers together on the table while she took the box of chocolates in her hands and examined the brand in awe.

Ding! Sunghoon thought to himself as a moment of victory.

“It’s considered rude to visit someone’s house for the first time without gifts, in my family,” Sunghoon blabbered and shared an award glance with Y/N.

Willow and Laurel looked at him with questioning looks and he offered them another awkward smile. “Y/N told us you’re from Korea?” Willow asked.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded. Then followed a moment of silence no one knew how to fill. The group of five simply looked at each other and Blue entered the kitchen from one of the bedrooms like a saving grace. “Oh, is this your dog?” he looked at Y/N with excitement and slipped off his seat to kneel in front of the Golden Retriever.

“Yeah, his name is Blue,” Y/N cooed with a proud smile.

“I know, you told me,” he hummed, ruffling Blue’s fur and touching his nose to the dog’s.

“You’re fond of dogs?” Laurel asked.

“I adore them,” he mused. “I’ve got six dogs myself.”

With that statement, the conversation somehow burst between the group. Though Y/N didn’t contribute much, she enjoyed the sight in front of her. Willow filled Sunghoon’s plate with food despite his objections and Laurel was gushing about her fiancé’s dog- which is when Sunghoon slipped in the question of how they met. Ding! She rambled about how they met in the airport at the ripe age of twenty-one and had been in each other’s lives since then- for eight years.

The story almost brought Sunghoon to tears, being a sucker for love himself. He felt jealous of people that had perfect and long-lasting relationships, the type where they would meet at young ages and grow old together and survive life through thick and thin. It was the type of love he always craved for. But then his gaze met Y/N and he forgot about the pang of loneliness in his chest. He continued asking Willow which salon she went to because her hair looked pristine. Ding!

As dinner came to an end, they told him anecdotes of their childhood and embarrassed Y/N to their full capacity. A story that stuck with him was of when they took a family trip to the beach, eight kids in the back of the car with their miserable parents in the front, fighting for just a moment of silence or peace. Y/N was described as a loud child, the one that was most spoiled because she was the youngest, showered with love from her older siblings and all her wishes granted by her parents. That day, she had spent all her time with her eldest brother because he was brooding from going through a recent breakup and played around him building terrible sand castles and collecting broken seashells until he laughed and played with her.

They even showed him her baby pictures.

He could imagine Y/N at that age, holding sand in her chubby palms and laughing while running away from the waves. He could imagine her in a pink-coloured bucket hat covering her tiny head, knitted onesies as her outfit for the beach. He could imagine her milk teeth peeking from behind her lips when she laughed and he could imagine just how happy she must have been when her brother accepted her seashells as a token of happiness.

“What are you laughing at?” Y/N asked, brushing her fingers over his chin.

The pair had winded up on her couch once her sisters were off to sleep. Sunghoon’s old figure skating videos were playing on the television because according to Y/N, if you get to see my childhood pictures, I get to see yours. They were long forgotten by both and the television reflected black while they kissed and cuddled, anything to use their time alone for their benefit. Eventually, they ended up naked under a thin blanket, his slender hands drawing circles on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck, pecking his jaw anytime she felt like it.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing her forehead. “I’m just thinking about you being all hyper and active as a baby,” he confessed, unable to stop the rest of his giggles.

“Hey,” she furrowed her brows, attempting to kick her leg at him but her movements were constricted as he held her tighter. “You just called me boring now.”

“No, don’t take it that way,” he grinned. “It’s just hard to imagine you now the way you were as a child. You know, because you’re all calm and collected now. The only times I’ve seen you laugh, like properly laugh and cackle-”

“I don’t cackle-”

“Is when we watch funny movies or when I make jokes,” he mused. “I mean even at dinner, your sisters made pretty good jokes but you didn’t laugh.”

“I normally would have. I’m quite open around my family,” she mumbled. “Just kinda felt overwhelmed today.”

“Because of me?”

She nodded against his chest.

“Why is that?”

“Because before you came, I was stressed thinking of whether they’d like you or not. I was praying that they’d like you,” she admitted. “And once you came and they started getting along with you, I was so relieved. I mean, even Willow seemed to get along with you so well. At that point, I had used up all my energy so I just took the time to relax and… observed, I guess.”

Sunghoon hummed, letting his fingers run lines up and down her spine. “What’d you observe, then?”

“Nothing in particular,” she said. “Just listening to them talk and you talk and bonding. It was nice to watch.”

“I’m glad it went well, then,” he nodded, chin moving to rest on her head. “I really thought they would hate me, you know? I was nervous before meeting them, too. Rose is the one that made it less awkward, it’s honestly all thanks to her that I managed with conversation.”

“Yeah, she’s always been like that,” Y/N agreed. “She has a way of making people around her feel comfortable. It’s not gonna be that way with my brothers, though.”

“Oh, dear God, I don’t even wanna think about that,” Sunghoon whined, hugging her closer as if it could change the inevitable.

“It’s fine, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled. “I’ll be there. My sisters will be there. I’ve told my parents somewhat about you and they seem to be fond of you. They even ask about you sometimes-”

“You talk to your parents about me?” Sunghoon’s grin widened into a smirk, moving his head so that he could peek at the flustered look on her face.

“Yeah?” She trailed, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson he couldn’t notice in the dark.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I told my parents about you, too.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stop blinking for a moment, her mouth hanging agape

“Yeah, why is that so surprising?”

With a shit-eating grin on his mouth, he lifted her by her waist and made her straddle his hips so that he could see her expressions as they talked. She yelped as she made herself comfortable, reaching towards the armrest to grab his shirt so she could cover herself. Her palms spanned across his chest while his fingers trailed to unbutton his shirt on her torso, playing with the skin on her stomach.

“Well, you know,” she responded with a grin reflecting his, unable to control the butterflies in her stomach. “You told me about your past relationships… and I didn’t think you’d tell them so early-”

“It’s been a while since we started seeing each other, no?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“It only seemed fair that I told them,” he shrugged, hands pulling her closer. “My sister’s quite excited to meet you, by the way.”

“How long has it been since you last told them about a girl you were seeing?”

“A couple of years… a long time, actually,” he pursed his lips in thought. “I haven’t been in a relationship lasting this long in years… it almost feels new.”

“Really?” She smiled even wider.

“That makes you feel good, huh?”

“Well, obviously,” she shrugged proudly. “Your parents like me.”

“Your parents like me, too,” he giggled.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, leaning down so she could rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck once again.

“And you know my friends that I keep mentioning?”

She hummed.

“I want you to meet them, too.”

“Somehow, that’s more nerve-wracking than meeting your family.”

Sunghoon erupted into laughter, his arms wrapping around her torso. She could feel the rise and fall in his chest, his heart rate increasing by the second. “There’s no need for that,” he assured with a croon. “They’ll like you and you’ll like them.”

“But didn’t you say Riki didn’t really like me when you told him about me?”

“That was when I met you the first time,” he said. “To be fair, you were kind of bitchy-”

“Ok, fine, my bad,” she rolled her eyes. “But what if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll like you,” he repeated. “Especially Chiara.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When I started telling her about you, she was swooning. I’m not joking. She was begging to meet you-”

“When was this?”

“Like a month ago,” he said. “She’s been asking about you for a while. She wants you to come for next week’s dinner.”

From the myriad of times Sunghoon had talked about Chiara and all his other friends, she learned that she was like the mother of the group. Her and Jake’s house was where everyone could stop by even without an invitation- everyone had a spare key to their apartment. Her pantry was always filled with snacks and drinks of all sorts and if anyone needed anything to be whipped up, she would oblige with no hesitation. She was the person that could accept anyone regardless of their needs or flaws, the one that knew how to make everyone around her safe. But regardless of knowing all that, Y/N was still insecure to meet her.

“But-”

“Y/N,” he pressed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be sitting with you the whole time.”

She groaned, defeated and having no excuse to give him. “Fine,” she mumbled.

To be precise, Sunghoon took Y/N out on their first date precisely six months prior. In those five months, the pair spent a lot of energy learning how to communicate with one another. Y/N was the shy and quiet type, the kind of person that tended to use sarcasm as a defence mechanism instead of voicing her concerns and feelings. Sunghoon, though he was quite sarcastic himself, used the mechanism as his sole form of communication, completely ignoring the fact that he was capable of having feelings pertaining to benefiting himself.

It took more than a few attempts to learn how to be comfortable with one another. If it weren’t for her pestering him to tell him about his past failed relationships, he wouldn’t be freely speaking about his family now. If it wasn’t for him arguing with her about how he wanted her to be carefree around him with her guard down, she wouldn’t even be able to laugh around him. Forget laughter, she probably wouldn’t even know how to kiss him without feeling embarrassed of the effect he had on her. Learning how to openly communicate with one another turned into learning how to ask each other for advice and depend on each other emotionally instead of accepting their individual isolation.

When Sunghoon first started to open up about his past relationships, she wasn’t expecting to hear what she did. The more stories she heard, the more she understood where his cockiness and inferiority complex stemmed from. There was a point where she thought her new boyfriend had hooked up with the entire female population of New York City with the amount of relationships he’d mentioned. But the one thing she realised after every story of past relationships he told her was that all he wanted was to settle down the way his friends and most of the population did, to start a family and marry a girl he was proud to be loved by.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t feel even the slightest amount of luck.

Over the span of their relationship, Sunghoon couldn’t spend her twenty-seventh birthday with her. Her parents had bought her a train ticket back home and she spent her birthday with her parents, siblings and their spouses sitting around their average sized dinner table singing the overrated birthday song while she blew out the candles on a very small chocolate cake that only she ate at the end of the night. Sunghoon had called her later in the night to wish her when she was finally not surrounded by her family and it was the very same night that she had told her parents about him. Her sister-in-laws, brother-in-laws, all her siblings and her parents were bombarding her with questions and all she could tell them was that she was smitten by him with a toothy smile.

She couldn’t spend his twenty-eighth birthday with him either. He spent his birthday weekend at Jake and Chiara’s house- the house where all the parties, dinners and get-togethers were held- with the rest of his friends and all the kids were to stay the night with a very unlucky babysitter. He got drunk on beer, his favourite activity to indulge in, and was the model of most embarrassing pictures and videos. Jay, being the most sober out of everyone, was taking care of Sunghoon like his life depended on it while the rest of the party-attendees thrashed the house which left Jake and Chiara in a gruelling position to clean up the next morning.

That night, Sunghoon had called Y/N in a bout of slurs, his face too close to the phone camera which restricted her view on his face and the circus that was falling apart behind him. She could barely hear him through the excited screams of his friends and the loud music but she was able to hear fragments of what he was saying.

“I miss you so much, y/n,” he said. “I wish you were here… I always thought you looked so pretty, you know you’re really pretty, right?”

Y/N laughed at him through the entire call and offered suitable responses. “I miss you, too,” she said. “I think you look very handsome, ‘Hoon.”

However, it was during those two incidents that Y/N realised how much Sunghoon valued his friends, so much to the point that he considered them more his family than his actual family, and Sunghoon realised how close Y/N was to her family. A conversation wouldn’t end without him bringing up his friends and her day wouldn’t start without a text from anyone member of her family. It was then that they realised they couldn’t expect each other to continue their relationship without putting in the effort to meet each other’s families, their respective powerhouses for love and personality.

“WHY THE BEACH, THOUGH?” She asked with an open smile whilst being held in the air by Sunghoon. He held her up by her thighs, her bikini cover-up barely holding onto her frame as he spun her around. She wasn’t sure how he was able to hold his balance in loose sand, waves occasionally grazing his feet, but she was squealing in amusement, throat bubbling with laughter every time he craned his neck to kiss her. Her hair blew with the wind, ruining the effort she put into styling it that morning and his newly dyed black hair covered his forehead and enhanced the brown in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he grinned. “I just wanted to see if you’d act like how your sisters described in that one story they told.”

Sunghoon let his arms slip around her waist now, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as their lips met again for probably the hundredth time that day. He wouldn't stop kissing her while she got dressed in front of her mirror, his hands exploring her stomach and lips exploring her neck. He wouldn’t stop kissing her on the car ride there, leaning towards her every time the road seemed empty or when they stopped at the red light. And he couldn’t stop kissing her when they reached the beach, hands refusing to leave her touch and holding her frame as close as he could and bruising her lips with his as often as he was allowed.

“Why so suddenly?” She asked before being pulled into another kiss, his lips devouring hers like he hadn’t kissed her in an eternity, like he wasn’t doing the same thing for the past three hours. “And what’s up with you and making out today?” She asked again, pulling away from his lips with a smack.

“Just in the mood,” he responded, chasing for another kiss through hooded eyes. She wasn’t sure which question of hers he answered to but she could only smile giddily, submitting into his lips yet again.

“Well, are you stressed or something?” She mumbled against his lips.

“Y/N,” he sighed, pulling away from her and letting her stand on her own two feet again. She blinked profusely, head tilting in confusion, toes wiggling into the familiar damp sand. “Just shut up and let me kiss you, alright?” And without letting her reply, he cupped her jaw with his hands and connected their lips again.

He was kissing her like she was his source of oxygen. He relished in the feeling of her jaw moving against his palms while she followed the movement of his lips, head tilting accordingly when he slid his tongue through the little opening in her mouth. Only he was in control at that moment and he was pecking her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip when she was gasping for air. But the moment of intimacy passed before she could register the butterflies in her stomach and he was lifting her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She erupted in laughter, legs flailing in the air as he ran into the water with a smile she could hear from a mile away.

He smiled so wide that his eyes were squinting to slits, throwing himself and her into the salty waves and emerging back up in a gasp for air. Y/N pushed her soaked hair away from her face, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth opened in shock while Sunghoon waited for a reaction- and a reaction he got. The next few minutes were filled with water being splashed in each others’ faces, their laughter louder than the group of kids visiting the beach for the first time. While she was failing on wrestling his, their fingers intertwined, he realised that this was what bliss felt like, to his girlfriend, his lover, happy and smiling and laughing like she was living the best moment in her life.

Over the next hour, Sunghoon sat beside Y/N in the sand while she built sandcastles like she was a kindergartener. Her hands built a mountain out of sand and taller towers beside the melting mountain. She would pout and whine and curse at him in laughter whenever he’d mess up her artwork and he would kiss her again, slow pecks that would eventually burn into her memory. Then he collected seashells with her which were eventually returned back to the sand and waters. When they found a dried starfish, coloured a bright magenta, she started ranting about the significance of starfish to the Aztec culture and he listened with open ears, nodding along to her words as if he would write an exam on the topic. In that hour, he could see the little girl that her sisters described her as in her, except she was wearing a bikini instead of a bucket hat and jean-shorts.

“I like seeing you like this,” he said, holding her hand in a moment of serenity, walking across the beach with their shoes clutched in their empty hands.

“Like what?” She asked, unable to put aside her smile.

“Happy.”

“You say that like you’ve never seen me happy before, ‘Hoon,” she chuckled and shook her head. “You brought me here because of the story my sisters told you, right?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “You had this juvenile happiness about you. I love when you’re like this.”

Y/N squeezed his hand and made him turn towards her. He had a look of satisfaction in his eyes, bangs covering his brows. His lips twitched into a miniscule smile, one that she almost missed if she didn’t squint enough. The wind blew his shirt against his skin, an icky dampness he ignored suddenly made aware. “Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips to hide a thankful smile. “I loved today.”

Sunghoon kissed her forehead and led her to his car. He didn’t want to admit to her that the reason for his increased physical affection, constantly kissing her and touching her, was truly because he was stressed. He was stressed about introducing her to his friends during dinner in a few hours- he could only imagine the amount of anxiety she was dealing with and hoped that a day at the beach would perhaps help her into a positive mood. It wasn’t that he was questioning their relationship or personality all of a sudden, no that wasn’t it. It was the fact that he knew her well enough that her awkwardness around new people often led them to perceive her with a negative first impression. She wasn’t great at starting conversation and in all honesty, Sunghoon was no good at helping people involve themselves into conversation. That was Rose’s speciality, not his. Sunghoon was rather the type to laugh at jokes and comment on whatever stupid statement his friends made. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he couldn’t rely on himself to help Y/N ease herself into whatever conversation would take place during.

When he panicked to Chiara about his nerves, she assured him that she would be there to help her feel welcomed. She reminded him that his friends weren’t the type of people to isolate someone new, especially if it was someone Sunghoon said was special to him. “Even I wasn’t this nervous when I introduced Chiara to you guys,” Jake had said to him. “It’ll be fine. You know that.” So, he played out the scenarios in his head on how dinner would go; he imagined Jay bonding with Y/N over his random knowledge in history and he imagined Y/N sipping on wine with Chiara, Karina and Jade at the end of the night. He imagined Jake and Heeseung telling her about all his embarrassing stories and her laughing at them with no filter and he imagined her playing with all the kids- his nieces and nephews.

In his head, it was the perfect dinner, exactly the way he’d want his lover to fit into his found-family and as he looked at Y/N covering herself with a towel and drying her hair with her fingers raking her scalp, he knew that everything would go just the way he imagined.

“There’s a motel nearby, we can freshen up there,” he offered softly, stretching his arms to grab ahold of her hips and pull her closer towards him.

“What’ve you got planned for the day, hmm?” She teased. “I haven’t seen you this enthusiastic since you took me ice skating.”

He grinned, softly pecking her lips and digging his nails deeper into her hips. She chewed the inside of her cheek, smirking and nodding in understanding. Her fists rested on his chest, knees on the verge of buckling from his gaze alone. “After that, I thought maybe we could go to a bookstore or a movie. Anything you want, really.”

“That sounds really good,” she hummed. Her eyes hooded, scanning his face from his eyes, the mole on his nose and to his lips. “I think I prefer your natural hair better, by the way,” she smiled as she kissed him and he teased her with a hum, fingers drumming on her lower back.

The time leading up to dinner felt like floating through a dream. He remembered showering with her and helping her pick out a pretty dress to wear while she styled her hair in the shabby bathroom of the motel. He also remembered spending way too many hours in the nearest bookstore where he felt like a ghost following her around with shallow eyes. While she carried around a pile of non-fiction books and archives, softly explaining to him a snippet of history but nothing was registering in his head. He just remembered standing behind her with wide eyes and pursed lips, almost resembling a robot, imagining everything that could possibly go wrong at dinner; at dinner at his best friend’s house with the rest of the people he grew up around; at dinner with the people he called his family that saw him bring multiple other women to similar dinners.

He was just overthinking, right?

Yeah, he was. While driving, it was usually Sunghoon that had his free hand on her thigh but the roles were switched this time when Y/N saw his hands trembling. He looked like a lost puppy with those terrified eyes locked on the road in front of him.

“Sunghoon?” She called. “Park Sunghoon?”

He was so stressed, Sunghoon could feel the nerves in his jaw firing up before he opened his mouth to say, “yeah?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?” There was a laugh that escaped from his throat, hoarse and forced that almost made her flinch. “I’m fine,” his voice even went a few pitches higher.

“Honey, you’re not fine,” she insisted and moved to hold his hand that gripped the gear like his life depended on it. “It's dinner, isn’t it?”

The hesitation he showed before nodding his head was enough of an answer for her.

“Why’s it bothering you?”

He sucked in a breath and cautiously glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. “Well, you see,” he started. “They’re my friends.”

“I… know that,” she blinked profusely, confused.

“And they’ve seen me with tons of other girls,” he tried clarifying.

“How about you tell me something you don’t know,” she suggested, giving up on understanding his worries.

The first time Y/N saw him so stressed and nervous was when he was meeting her sisters. This would be the second time. He was trembling at the thought of his two worlds meeting, terrified that perhaps, like Riki had said, this relationship could end up like all others. But he was never scared to introduce his past girlfriends to them, never questioning whether it would end badly. What made Y/N different? Or has it just been a long time?

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m stressed. I think I’m just paranoid.”

“You and me both,” she gave his hand a few pats and pursed her lips to the side. “I’m meeting the people you call family which is a pretty big deal and from what you’ve told me, they’re all some sort of rich and famous. I mean, models, photographers, producers, writers, businessmen, dancers… It's intimidating.”

“We’re kind of all impressive aren’t we?” For the first time in hours, he cracked a smile; a smirk that made her chuckle. She nudged his arm and he chuckled with her, most of their worries draining away in that moment of glee.

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

When Sunghoon parked the car in the parking lot of Jake and Chiara’s apartment, Y/N stayed stuck to the seat for exactly ten seconds. She was convinced that time had frozen for her to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. The nerves that left Sunghoon had somehow manifested in her. Suddenly, the clothes she wore felt too either too fancy or too simple and she was convinced her hair was a mess. Then, she realised she had forgotten how to conversate with new people, let alone a group of eleven adults and four children who barely had the ability to speak.

Perhaps she was too awkward for this. It’s not too late to bail, she thought.

Sunghoon had to shake her shoulders to snap her back to reality- the reality in which she wasn’t in her apartment eating cereal with her dog on the couch- and guided her to the elevator with his hand on the small of her back. She was the one acting like a robot now, her body a machine programmed to walk step by step, her eyes unmoving from whatever object was in front of her as though it would relieve the anxiousness that made her heart beat like it was about to jump out of her chest. She could hear her blood thumping against her ears, almost deafening her from Sunghoon’s voice calling out for her.

They were now standing in front of Jake and Chiara’s front door with a dozen pairs of shoes beside them.

They were all there.

“You ready?” He asked, lips curling into a hopeful smile. Her eyes followed the bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face.

She shook her head. “We’re both scared,” she stated. “I will literally let you do whatever you want the next time we have sex if we bail from dinner.”

Sunghoon laughed at her statement, his hand reaching for her shoulder as he threw his head back. She looked at him as though she took her statement seriously and he shook his head. “Y/N,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Being nervous is natural in such situations. It’ll really be fine.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself.”

Chuckling again, he shook his head and moved to hold her waist. “You know what’ll make both of us feel better?” He said and nodded his chin. Smiling, he kissed her like he kissed her on the beach, the dull lights that lit the apartment flickering above them as he pulled her closer. Y/N visibly loosened in his arms, the tense in her shoulders disappearing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She focused on the fact that he was wearing her favourite shirt, a dark brown button down with black trousers- it was the outfit he wore on their first date, except his hair was dark now.

Then, she felt a little more confident.

He rang the doorbell after a few more brief pecks to her lips and moments later, Chiara opened the door. Y/N didn’t need for Sunghoon to introduce her- though he did anyway- because he had spent an hour showing her pictures of everyone so she could learn their names or she already knew them because they were famous.

The next few moments passed like a phantasm. Chiara was hugging her and dragging her through her richly furnished and exquisitely designed apartment and into the kitchen, where the dining table where ten other adults and four kids sat. Sunghoon followed them with slow footsteps, hands in his pockets as he watched his friends holler at the sight of Y/N and her awkwardly wave back with a messily stretched smile. When he saw Chiara pushing her towards Jake and Jay who were waving her towards them, Heeseung and Karina offering her drinks and Sunoo complimenting her outfit, he questioned why he wasted so much energy in worrying because the sight in front of him was perfect, like watching the happy ending of a cliché family movie.

“Why’s everyone so excited?” Sunghoon grinned while sauntering towards them. “All because of my girl, ay?” He could see Y/N blushing and Chiara teasing her by wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“Sunghoon!” Jake yelled, lifting his glass of wine towards him. “How about you stop getting cocky and sit your ass down, ay?” Everyone laughed, offering their greetings to him.

“Behave tonight, don’t be the little shit you always are,” Heeseung pulled at Riki’s ear and he complained of being treated like a kid.

Y/N eventually ended up sitting between Sunghoon and Chiara- who had Kai with her- because at that point, they were the only people she felt remotely comfortable around. Chiara, though it was her first time meeting her, was already indulging her in pleasant conversation, pointing at each person on the table and giving her a brief description of their personality, oblivious to the fact that it was all known information already.

“Sunoo and Sheila are engaged,” Chiara said.

“Oh, yeah, when’s the wed-”

“Don’t ask them about it… they haven’t decided yet,” she slowly shook her head the way scared characters from horror movies did. “Jungwon and Eva are engaged, too.”

“Oh, the wedding’s probably in a month or two, by the way,” Jungwon lifted his head at the mention of his wedding and Heeseung dabbed him up with pride.

It felt like she was pulled into a whirlwind with the amount of conversations happening around her. Sunghoon and Chiara were keeping her company while Jade would chime in from time to time. Jungwon’s girlfriend, Eva, would start a conversation with her by offering her food and Riki had somehow wiggled his way into the conversation and offered brief phrases of acknowledgement as contribution. Then, Jay had called for her from the end of the table and started asking about her profession, claiming that he himself had an inclination towards history. For a little while, she had told him the brief of what she knew about Chinese history and offered to lend him some of her books pertaining to his interests.

Heeseung pointed to his daughters that sat between him and his wife, introducing them to Y/N as Luna and Sol and she recognised their names originating from Roman mythology. Karina encouraged her to elaborate and she went on a tangent about the stories behind the twins’ beautiful names. Eventually, the pair went on to tell her how they met, describing a romantic story between a music producer and a singer.

“Chiara, tell her how you and Jake met,” Heeseung nodded.

“Are we all gonna go around the table telling her our love stories?”

“Sounds about right,” Sunghoon clapped.

The story of Chiara and Jake was something out of a Netflix rom-com. She had heard it briefly from Sunghoon before and saw quite a few clips of them speaking about it on the internet, but to have them sitting with her on the dinner table, narrating their past with intricate detail, was something she didn’t know she needed. Watching the love between them thriving after so many years was what brought Sunghoon hope for his own love, the way they smiled at each other still seemed to bring some sort of warmth in everyone’s hearts.

Their love story was what made way for Sunoo and Sheila, who was Chiara’s best friend. They had met on a dinner similar to such, back when they were all mostly single and were still struggling to graduate or make a successful career. They claimed it was love at first sight, that Sheila had fallen in love with Sunoo’s smile and that he had fallen in love with the twinkle in her eyes. They started dating not long after they met, their personalities matching to the tea.

Though Jay and Jade started dating around the same time as Heeseung and Karina, they married much later. They were childhood friends and in fact, he was in the hospital the day she was born. They watched each other grow up because their families were close but the pair only became friends around the time Jay started taking over his father’s travel company. What started as a no-strings-attached relationship blossomed into family. However, Riki made fun of them and said they only got married because he knocked her up, to which Jay closed Evelyn’s ears with his hands and cursed at his youngest friend to never say such things around his daughter.

“What did I say about not acting like a little shit?” Heeseung warned with a finger pointing at the youngest amongst them.

Finally came Jungwon and Eva’s love story with Riki being a major reason for their engagement. The two didn’t even get along at first, always bickering when they were around each other and shooting each other death glares until Riki finally put them in a room together and forced them to put their differences aside. Turns out, they not only put their differences aside but also their clothes and now the three lived together and Riki was helping them plan their wedding. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best man, but Jay was, because a few years prior, everyone had drawn chits to decide who would be the best man at whose wedding and Riki drew Sunghoon’s name. It was very unfortunate.

“Why didn’t you bring your girl, Riki?” Sunghoon asked.

“Oh, no,” the boy shook his head, moving his stare to the condiments left on his plate. “I broke up with her a week ago.”

There was no silence that followed his statement but a groan from Heeseung who slumped in his seat. “You owe me fifty bucks!” Jay yelled from across him. “I told you this would happen.”

Riki rolled his eyes and turned to Y/N with an unamused stare. “Don’t be alarmed, they do this a lot.”

“He’s known as the heartbreaker amongst us,” Jake firmly clapped Riki’s shoulder twice and turned to make fun of Heeseung.

“How about Y/N tells us how she felt when she first met Sunghoon, huh?” Heeseung attempted to shift the conversation and everyone was turning towards her, including her boyfriend, with grins and smirks she couldn’t escape from.

The night continued with such conversations.

Sunoo and Sheila left early like they always did and it was around that time that all the kids went to sleep and the hard liquor started coming out of the closets to be consumed. Chiara, Jungwon and Jade joined the kids to sleep as they weren’t huge fans of alcohol and everyone else had cleared the dinner table and filled it with cans of beer, bottles of vodka and glasses of whiskey, along with peanuts and kimchi. The golden lights that set the homely aura around the apartment were dimmed to blue lights, much like the lights that Sunghoon used to bring up everytime he talked about the many exclusive parties of New York he had attended.

Jake and Chiara’s apartment was one to ogle over. Their furniture came from the expensive catalogues Y/N had stashed in her drawers and their balconies reminded her of the ones she saw on romantic European contemporary films. They had books unlike the ones she had at home, the kind that literature geeks would drool over- they were Chiara’s collection, she supposed. They had rarely decorated hardcover copies of all the classics and a few crime novels scattered here and there. Y/N observed the pictures that hung around their television while sipping on wine on the couch while everyone else opted to chug beer.

“Y/N, come join us!” Jake bellowed from the kitchen with a can of beer raised in the hair. Karina followed his lead and raised a bottle of vodka.

Before she could answer, Sunghoon had answered for her and told them that she wasn’t much of a drinker. The crowd whined in defeat but soon went back to whatever they were doing- she wasn’t sure where the awful lot of loud sound was coming from but they were definitely yelling and hollering at each other.

She could hear something about daring Sunghoon to stay sober the whole night but that would be like expecting pharaohs to never leave curses before passing away.

The sane and sober minds that Y/N was so intimidated by just a few hours ago were either talking and stumbling across the apartment in incoherent babbles or were taking care of the people who were incoherently babbling. Y/N was laughing at whatever mumble that was sent her way and even entertained Jade who sat beside her and started complaining about her colleagues whose lives were boring because of the word load her father pushed on them. Jay eventually dragged her away and apologised to Y/N, telling her to enjoy the rest of the night and no not mind everyone else.

“We’re making a terrible first impression but we aren’t usually like this.”

Her wine bottle eventually became empty and she simply sat there on the couch, watching her boyfriend hang off Heeseung’s arm who was equally as drunk. Riki had pulled himself away from the group, throwing his empty can of beer in the trash before making his way to Y/N. He almost looked shy, tense shoulders pulling together the closer he got to her and he ended up standing in front of her, his gaze spaced out and lips opening and closing to contemplate what exactly he wanted to say. Y/N was only a little woozy from the wine and she cleared her throat as it got awkward with the silence between them.

“Do you smoke?” The boy eventually asked, pulling out a box of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans.

“I do, actually,” she smiled softly, attempting to ease the boy’s nerves.

The pair moved to the balcony, arms leaning against the railings as freshly lit cigarettes hung from their lips, index and middle finger holding it in place. It was a habit Riki was embarrassed about after developing late into high school. The group of friends he made in school after moving to New York City could be labelled as the wrong crowd and of all the narcotics and alcohol he tried, cigarettes were the only thing that stuck. It wasn’t an addiction but if he didn’t smoke for a prolonged amount of time, he would face miniscule symptoms of withdrawal. Chiara, being their resident psychologist, had warned him of the physical and mental repercussions he could face and for some time, his friends had even forced him to use nicotine patches. Over time, he learned how to control his smoking. He was just grateful he didn’t end up a crack-addict like his cousin back in Osaka.

Y/N however, didn’t have much of a care of the stigma that surrounded tobacco and cigarettes. I, too, had started in high school when her best friend at the time introduced her to the cylindrical contraption. The practice would follow her into her adulthood and here she was, on a balcony with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She didn’t smoke that often, just in social settings, much like this one.

“Sunghoon knows you smoke, right?” He perked up, turning his gaze towards her.

“Yeah, of course,” she grinned, shrugging her shoulders. “Why?”

“He has this thing against smoking,” Riki shook his head. “Everyone’s against it, but he loses it when someone smokes around him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N mused. “On our third date or something, I told him I wanted to go out for a smoke and he freaked. Never brought it up around him again.”

When Riki laughed, Y/N felt a wave of validation. This was Nishimura Riki she was smoking with, the boy that disapproved of her being with Sunghoon not a few months ago. Despite the fact that everyone past the glass screen separating the balcony from the living room had given her their thumbs of approval, already making her feel a part of their group by offering her drinks, Riki standing there and laughing at her jokes was the biggest form of approval she could ask for. For the first time all night, she felt all relief from the stress she had harboured in her chest.

“When he found out I started smoking, he didn’t talk to me for three days straight,” Riki added. “I was like seventeen at the time, it came as quite a shock to everyone,” he shrugged.

“I was seventeen, too,” she mused. “I’m, like, twenty-seven now and my parents still don’t know.”

“If my parents found out, they would kill me,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, Jay still threatens to tell my parents about it if I annoy them?”

“They still treat you like a child, huh?”

“The price I have to pay for being the youngest.” “Yeah, I’m the youngest one out of all my siblings and they still think I’m in middle school.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

Riki gave her a look of surprise, his jaw dropping for his mouth and his fist reaching towards his mouth for him to bite. Y/N nodded knowingly, silently telling him that she knew the pain. The pair ashed their cigarettes off the balcony and revelled in the number of similarities they had.

Before either of them could start a new conversation or continue the previous, the glass doors to the balcony had slid open and Sunghoon stumbled open with probably his twelfth can of beer wrapped in his palm. His cheeks were a soft shade of pink and his eyes disappeared behind his eyelids due to the genial smile on his face. His arms stretched widely as he came closer to approaching them and eventually collapsed on their shoulders.

If there was anything Y/N knew about her boyfriend, it was that he loved being drunk. It was the first thing that would be listed if anyone was to ever write his biography. Sunghoon had a habit of denying this habit of his but there came a point of acceptance when literally everyone around him started pointing it out. During dinner, she was lucky to be serenaded with his most embarrassing drunk-anecdotes, as Chiara liked to call it. Her favourite was the one where he woke up beside Heeseung in a hotel all the way on the other side of town with a basket of brownies placed between them and a note that read thank you for being amazing people. To this day, nobody knew what happened- it was the biggest mystery amongst their friend group. They ended up eating all the brownies and spared none for the others.

“What are you two talking about?” Sunghoon giggled as he looked between Riki and Y/N. “You better not be nice to her, Riki. She’s technically your Noona.”

Riki snatched the can of beer away from Sunghoon and contorted his face into a look of disinterest. “Y/N and I are almost the same age,” he argued.

“You still call Jungwon Hyung, right?” Sunghoon let go of Y/N and moved to wrap his arms around Riki. Struggling, the boy brought the can of beer to his lips.

“Yeah, so?”

“Y/N is your Noona,” he jabbed a finger into his chest with a wide grin. “She may even be your Hyung-su soon.”

Riki let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head and pushing Sunghoon off of his back. The boy then smirked at Y/N, chugging down the rest of the beer left in the can. “Calm down, big boy,” Riki slapped his back and he moved to wrap his arms around Y/N. “I’m gonna go.”

While the boy slid the glass door of the balcony close, Y/N hung her hand on the arm that wrapped around her shoulders. “What does all that mean?” She smiled, oblivious. “Nothing,” Sunghoon giggled, kissing her forehead. “You’ve seen me drunk so many times,” he pointed out.

“It’s kind of your favourite hobby, ‘Hoon,” she pointed out.

“But I’ve never seen you drunk.”

SUNGHOON WOULD SEE Y/N drunk exactly one and a half months later at Jungwon and Eva’s wedding reception.

The events leading up to the reception were all smooth- there was the plane ride to the avenue, the part where the bride and groom were getting ready and then the meticulously planned wedding ceremony. It was all beautiful and heartwarming and Jay’s toast was tear-jerking. However, Sunghoon saw no need in replaying those events in his head when his girlfriend was drunk and hanging off his arm.

It was the most comical sight he’d ever witnessed.

You see, of all the morals and rules of self-control Sunghoon had waived upon himself over the years, not drinking during weddings was one of them and he held himself proud to the condition. Everyone, including Chiara, who was famed for her distaste towards liquor, was drinking that day and it would explain the mess that the banquet halls ended up in shambles. The flower bouquets were crumpled to pulp, the pristine white curtains around them torn to shreds and the delicious wedding cake looked like it was devoured by a wolf.

In the midst of it all, Y/N had downed four too many glasses and champagne and she was bubblier than a school girl. At first, Sunghoon simply thought that she was giddy from catching the bouquet Eva had thrown over her head but boy did he have a hard time bringing her back to their hotel room. In many ways, she and him were the same type of drunk. Granted, Sunghoon had a habit of crying if he ever was sad before drinking, but apart from that, they were pretty much the same. Both of them stumbled on their feet while trying to walk in a straight line, both giggled like they were being tickled and both spewed absolute nonsense while drunk. It was like looking at himself in a mirror- except she was a girl, his girlfriend to be precise.

“You’re really pretty,” Y/N giggled at him, her index finger gliding down the side of cheek as though she was flirting with him.

Flattered, Sunghoon offered her a toothy grin and wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. Her arm hung around his shoulders, her heels clutched by her free hand. “Thank you, Jagi,” he said. “But we really need to get you back to the room. You need a change of clothes and some sleep.”

“But I don’t want to sleep,” she pouted, her brows pulling together and bottom lip jutting out. The sight made him want to laugh- if she were sober, she would shoot herself before making such a face voluntarily.

“But you have to,” Sunghoon’s grin widened as he eventually got to the door of their room.

He was carrying her at that point, one arm under her head and the other under her knees. Her arms secured around his neck, her heels poking his ear. While she brightly smiled at him, he laid her on the bed.

“Don’t move, I’ll get changed and be right there with you.”

“No, don’t change! You look so hot in a suit,” she whined and caught his tie in her hand. She tugged him towards her and chased him for a kiss.

Though he enjoyed the action, he found himself pushing her back onto the pillow. He brushed away the hair that framed her face and cupped her cheek “Jagi,” he crooned. “You’re really drunk and you need some rest.”

“No, I need you,” she continued to whine, pointing her finger at him. “Just stay with me.”

“I am with you,” he smiled at her.

He finally understood what it felt like to be Jay when he was taking care of him.

“Good,” she said and pulled him in for another kiss.

He surrendered, letting her drag him on top of her until the span of his chest lay against hers. His legs lounged on the bed, his leather shoes kicked into one of the corners of the room. His hand cupped the side of her face and she gripped his collor until she couldn’t physically hold him closer anymore- but the moment was as fleeting as most were and her lips parted from his with an epiphany.

“Where’s the bouquet I caught?” She asked in a frenzy, looking around the room.

“Jagi, it’ll be somewhere downstairs, don’t worry,” he reached for her hand and propped himself on his elbows. His eyes followed her every move but he was quick to keep her beside him, refusing to let her leave the bed. “You need sleep, Y/N.”

“Can we go get it?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “You didn’t even want to catch the bouquet, it literally hit you in the head,” he argued. “If you want, I’ll buy a hundred more bouquets later.”

Y/N blinked at him, her eyes glazing over from her lack of sleep. “But I caught it,” she mumbled.

“I know, Jagi, and I’m very glad you did.”

“Doesn’t it mean we might get married or something?” If she could hear herself while sober, Y/N would probably slap herself. With that thought in mind, Sunghoon shut her up from speaking anymore words with another kiss on her lips. “Can you please sleep for me, Jagi?” He hummed. “Please?”

“Why do you keep calling me Jagi?” She asked while he cupped her head, leading her to lay on the pillow again. The span of her hand stayed on his chest, keeping him in place.

“It just means I love you very much, Jagi,” he smiled and she smiled back, fluttering her eyes shut.

“Ok,” she nodded her cheek against the pillow. “I like it.”

“I know,” he said. “Why didn’t you come into my life sooner, Jagi? Where have you been?”

“What?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she drifted into slumber.

“Just sleep.”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi! Could make some writing notes regarding what happens to the human body when making out? Like the temperature increase and dopamine release, stuff like that? Or maybe just how the body reacts when you're nearby/interact to/with a loved one. I hope you're doing well! I love your posts!

Writing Notes: The Physiology of Love

Love can be distilled into 3 categories: lust, attraction, and attachment.

Though there are overlaps and subtleties to each, each type is characterized by its own set of hormones:

Testosterone and estrogen - drive lust

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin - create attraction

Oxytocin and vasopressin - mediate attachment

When we are falling in love, chemicals associated with the reward circuit flood our brain, produce a variety of physical and emotional responses:

Racing hearts

Sweaty palms

Flushed cheeks

Feelings of passion

Anxiety

Two decades of research shows that when it comes to early-stage intense romantic love—the kind we often think of when we talk about being lovestruck—a very primitive part of the brain’s reward system, located in the midbrain, is activated first.

Some Physiological Reactions to a Kiss

Pulse and blood pressure increase

Pupils dilate

Breathing deepens

Rational thought retreats, as desire suppresses both prudence and self-consciousness

Lust

Driven by the desire for sexual gratification.

The evolutionary basis for this stems from our need to reproduce, a need shared among all living things.

The hypothalamus of the brain plays a big role in this, stimulating the production of the sex hormones testosterone and estrogen from the testes and ovaries. While these chemicals are often stereotyped as being “male” and “female,” respectively, both play a role in men and women.

As it turns out, testosterone increases libido in just about everyone. The effects are less pronounced with estrogen, but some women report being more sexually motivated around the time they ovulate, when estrogen levels are highest.

Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex (includes rational behavior).

Attraction

Dopamine

Produced by the hypothalamus, is a particularly well-publicized player in the brain’s reward pathway – it’s released when we do things that feel good to us:

E.g., Spending time with loved ones and having sex.

High levels of dopamine and a related hormone, norepinephrine, are released during attraction. These chemicals make us:

giddy,

energetic, and

euphoric, even leading to decreased appetite and insomnia – which means you actually can be so “in love” that you can’t eat and can’t sleep.

Norepinephrine, also known as noradrenalin, may sound familiar because it plays a large role in the fight or flight response, which kicks into high gear when we’re stressed and keeps us alert:

Released more often at the beginning of a couple's relationship when many unknowns are present, putting the brain in a ‘proceed with caution’ mode.

Early in a relationship, there is heightened adrenalin, which causes feelings like butterflies in the stomach and a faster heart rate. There is also reduced activity in the parts of the brain that help us to make judgements, which is why you may be 'blinded' to another person’s faults in early love or infatuation,

Brain scans of people in love have actually shown that the primary “reward” centers of the brain, including the ventral tegmental area and the caudate nucleus, fire like crazy when people are shown a photo of someone they are intensely attracted to, compared to when they are shown someone they feel neutral towards (like an old high school acquaintance).

Attraction seems to lead to a reduction in serotonin:

It is a hormone that’s known to be involved in appetite and mood.

Interestingly, people who suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder also have low levels of serotonin, leading scientists to speculate that this is what underlies the overpowering infatuation that characterizes the beginning stages of love.

This explains why people in the early stages of love can become obsessed with small details, spending hours debating about a text to or from their beloved.

Attachment

The predominant factor in long-term relationships.

While lust and attraction are pretty much exclusive to romantic entanglements, attachment mediates friendships, parent-infant bonding, social cordiality, and many other intimacies as well.

The two primary hormones here appear to be oxytocin and vasopressin.

Oxytocin

Often nicknamed “cuddle hormone” or “hormone of love”.

Produced by the hypothalamus.

Released in large quantities during sex, breastfeeding, and childbirth.

This may seem like a very strange assortment of activities – not all of which are necessarily enjoyable – but the common factor here is that all of these events are precursors to bonding.

It also makes it pretty clear why having separate areas for attachment, lust, and attraction is important: we are attached to our immediate family, but those other emotions have no business there (and let’s just say people who have muddled this up don’t have the best track record).

The Brain During a Kiss

The brain goes into overdrive during the all-important kiss.

It dedicates a disproportionate amount of space to the sensation of the lips in comparison to much larger body parts.

During a kiss, this lip sensitivity causes our brain to create a chemical cocktail that can give us a natural high.

This cocktail is made up of three chemicals, all designed to make us feel good and crave more: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin.

Like any cocktail, this one has an array of side-effects.

The combination of these three chemicals work by lighting up the 'pleasure centres' in our brain.

The dopamine released during a kiss can stimulate the same area of the brain activated by heroin and cocaine. As a result, we experience feelings of euphoria and addictive behaviour.

Oxytocin fosters feelings of affection and attachment. This is the same hormone that is released during childbirth and breastfeeding.

Finally, the levels of serotonin present in the brain whilst kissing look a lot like those of someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

No wonder the memory of a good kiss can stay with us for years.

Love happens less in the heart and more in the brain, where hormonal releases and brain chemicals are triggered.

Dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin are some of the key neurotransmitters that help you feel pleasure and satisfaction.

So, your body often approaches love as a cycle.

It feels good to be with that person, so your brain says, "Do that again."

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Love ⚜ Kinds of Love

Thanks so much for your kind words. Hope you're doing well yourself! Would love to read your writing if these notes inspire you.

[3liza]

I agree that the pushback against White Woman Paranoia About Men is warranted but

I also see a lot of posts by men and people who situationally may never experience this, about how being wary of men as a class is delusional due to the actual crime statistics being basically negligible compared to, for example, being hit by a car or getting into a car accident. and what this kind of post doesn't acknowledge is that there are lot of ways to have an exceptionally bad experience caused by strange men in public that have nothing to do with anything that is classified as criminal, bodily harm, and specifically any behavior that would actually be worthwhile to report, making it unknown to the statistics. the guy who followed me for two blocks one night and then brushed by my back and said "don't fall" very pointedly as I was standing on a freeway overpass wasn't doing anything illegal and certainly nothing any cop would do anything about if I "reported" it (lmao) but yeah that is an unpleasant experience I remember vividly and would like to avoid in future. one example of many, obviously, I'm not making a whole post about a single experience

it is absolutely the case that the only rapes and most of the physical assaults I've experienced have been from men known to me socially or intimately, but until I got a large dog, going outside was about 60% likely to involve being harassed. which is a lot more than I have been hit by cars (zero times)

being harassed is extremely unpleasant regardless of its likelihood to progress to physical assault. sometimes it can be so unpleasant it affects our daily lives, and a single incident of harassment can impact a person's mental health. the expectation of ongoing harassment does this moreso, it creates a continual expectation of being pursued, questioned, and then having to deal with someone getting angry at you when you don't accede to their demands. in any context this is unpleasant. people who do not experience sexual harassment in their daily lives may be able to empathize with this experience if they were ever bullied as children. people chasing you around, calling you names, creating unpleasant confrontations for no reason, and then the next day you have to get up and go do it again. people change schools, quit jobs and move out of shared living situations to avoid this kind of stress, it's reasonable to develop an aversion to it. it's reasonable to develop reactivity and hypervigilance as well. verbal and social harassment without any physical assault is more than enough to cause a trauma response.

it's also just inconvenient. even if you are not menaced or belittled or traumatized by an episode of harassment, having to Manage a Harassment Situation in the grocery store or post office when you're just trying to get an errand done is a massive waste of time. a lot of women have to plan for extra time during errands or travel to account for getting out of situations like that.

a LOT of the paranoia about men from women that you can read everywhere in the culture is based not in a fear of getting physically harmed or killed, but simply avoiding more harassment.

I think a lot of women have defaulted to explaining this desire to avoid men and avoid being alone with men, or explaining their suspicion of men, as fear of physical harm, because that's the only way people who don't get harassed are able to take it seriously. but it's completely reasonable to want to avoid being annoyed, bothered, harassed, questioned, inconvenienced, interrupted, or to have someone just be rude to you, completely apart from the actual percentage likelihood that they are a serial killer. even the act of telling these men politely that you can't talk right now, aren't interested, have to go, have a boyfriend, whatever, is annoying and often escalates into a confrontation or to the man being angry at you or insulting you. we can agree that getting into a verbal argument for no reason on the street is a negative experience. it can be annoying and unsettling without being a threat to life and limb. and no this isn't a "i have bad social skills and can't handle normal human interactions" thing, it's not a social interaction required by common decency or manners or basic function, it's someone putting you into a bad situation for no reason and then getting mad at you when you decline to entertain them. the harassers are the ones being rude. it is a violation of the social contract to catcall someone. it's just annoying and I want to avoid it. most women want to avoid it, and behave accordingly.

no terfs on this post. everything I just said about being bothered by strangers applies double (at least) to the experiences of most trans women

women aren't the only people who get harassed by strangers either, but it is overwhelmingly an issue experienced by women, and people who are perceived as feminine or as women.

it's also not just men who do the harassing, but again, it is overwhelmingly men who are doing it.

some women experience no harassment or very little of this harassment and won't identify with this post. that's true and real, but doesn't make it not true that a very very large percentage of women, maybe even most women, have experienced this. no experience is universal

[empyrealoasis]

Shifting 101: A Complete Beginner’s Guide🐚🫧

This guide will break down everything you need to know about shifting: what it is, how it works, the methods, the science behind it, and practical tips for success.

Scripts to use for beginners: World Building Guide Character Design Guide

What Is Shifting?

Shifting is the process of moving your consciousness to a different reality, whether it’s fictional, parallel, or entirely of your creation. It’s not your imagination—it’s about fully experiencing another reality.

Here's a summary of what it might feel like:

Physical Sensations

Vibrations or Tingling: Many report feeling their body vibrating or tingling, especially during the transition phase.

Weightlessness: A sensation of floating or being disconnected from the physical body.

Pressure Changes: Some describe feeling a "sinking" sensation, or a light pressure on their chest or body.

Warmth or Coolness: A shift in body temperature, often feeling either unusually warm or cool.

Mental and Emotional States

Calmness or Euphoria: A deep sense of peace, happiness, or excitement as they approach the desired reality.

Heightened Awareness: A sharper or more vivid sense of surroundings, even if they are imagined.

Detachment from the Current Reality: A feeling of being "pulled away" from where they currently are, mentally and emotionally.

Clarity: A sudden understanding or awareness of the desired reality, as if it's "right there."

During the Shift

Hypnagogic Imagery: Seeing flashes of light, shapes, or scenes from the desired reality as if in a vivid dream.

Auditory Changes: Hearing voices, sounds, or music associated with the desired reality.

Rapid Heartbeat: Some report their heart racing, which may be a mix of excitement and physiological response.

After the Shift

Being grounded in the Desired Reality: Feeling completely present and immersed in the new environment, often indistinguishable from waking life.

Memories: Retaining memories of the current reality but experiencing them as distant or unimportant compared to the new reality.

Familiarity: Even if the shifted reality is new, it may feel intuitively familiar, like returning to a place you've always known.

Why Do People Shift?

To live out their dream life or be in a fictional world.

Escape stress or explore alternate possibilities.

To experience new perspectives and adventures.

For self growth (mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually)

How Does Shifting Work?

Shifting focuses on aligning your consciousness with another reality. It may sound mystical, but scientific concepts can explain how it might work:

1. The Role of the Subconscious

Your subconscious mind doesn’t differentiate between imagination and reality—it processes everything you believe as truth. By visualizing and affirming your DR, you’re "rewriting" your mind to accept it as your "true" reality.

2. Brainwaves and Conscious States

Shifting works best when your brain is in certain states:

Alpha: Relaxed but awake, like when you daydream.

Theta: The in-between state of sleep and wakefulness—perfect for accessing your subconscious.

Delta: Deep sleep. Some people shift directly through their dreams.

3. The Quantum Perspective

The Many-Worlds Theory in quantum physics suggests infinite versions of reality exist. Shifting aligns your awareness with a different version of yourself, allowing you to live in that reality.

How to Shift: The Basics

1. Preparation

Create Your DR Script:

Where you’ll be.

Who you’ll meet.

Rules (e.g., “Time stops in my OR while I’m in my DR”).

Safe words (to return to your OR).

Set the Scene: Find a quiet, comfortable place where you won’t be disturbed.

2. Choose a Method

There are many methods to help guide your mind into the void or DR. Here are some popular ones:

The Raven Method: Lie in a starfish position, count to 100, and affirm things like, "I am in my DR." Visualize your DR as vividly as possible.

The Pillow Method: Write your script and place it under your pillow. Visualize your DR as you fall asleep.

The Void Method: Enter a deeply relaxed state, focus on the darkness behind your eyelids, and affirm that you’re in the void (a blank state of pure awareness where you can shift instantly).

3. Let Go and Trust the Process

The most important part of shifting is letting go of resistance. Don’t force the experience—relax and allow it to happen naturally.

Signs You’re Close to Shifting

You might experience these signs as you approach your DR:

Tingling sensations or vibrations.

Feeling weightless or heavy.

Hearing sounds from your DR.

Seeing flashes of light or imagery.

Common Challenges and Solutions

1. I Can’t Relax

Try meditating before starting or doing a body scan (mentally relaxing each part of your body).

2. I Overthink Too Much

Focus on affirmations or play calming music to distract your logical mind.

3. Nothing Happens

This is untrue as this is an assumption. However, it may take a few tries before you get the hang of it

The Science Behind Shifting

While shifting isn’t officially recognized by science, many related phenomena align with psychological and neurological concepts:

Hypnagogia and Hypnopompia: These are the states between wakefulness and sleep, where vivid imagery and sensations occur. They’re key moments for accessing your subconscious.

Lucid Dreaming: Like shifting, lucid dreaming involves awareness and control within a dream. Many people shift through lucid dreaming techniques.

Visualization and Neuroplasticity: Studies show that imagining something activates the same brain areas as doing it. With repetition, you "train" your brain to accept your DR as real.

The Placebo Effect: Your beliefs shape your experience. If you fully believe you’ve shifted, your brain will accept it as true. Can be achieved with the Law of Assumption.

Myths About Shifting

You Can Get Stuck: This is impossible. Your subconscious will always bring you back to your OR when needed.

It’s Dangerous: Shifting is as safe as sleeping or meditating. Unless you decide to shift to a Zombie Apocalypse then duhh.

You Need a Perfect Script/Concept: Having scripts and a good self-concept helps, but they’re not required. Your intention is enough.

Tips for Success

Stay consistent: Shifting gets easier with practice.

Believe in yourself: Doubts can create mental blocks.

Use reminders: Read your script daily to reinforce your DR.

Be patient: Everyone’s journey is different.

P.S. At the end of the day, all you need is yourself. Only you can make you shift. It is not necessary to have a script/method because it's you who's going to make it work. So, do what feels comfortable for you and what works for you. Don't let others tell you otherwise.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Human cameramen are crazy

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The greatest decision Intergalactic Wave 6 ever made was hiring Reggie Bradford.

At the time of Finch’s hiring IW6 was a relatively small news organization based in the outer worlds. Barely reaching four systems on a good day compared to the top contenders like Celestial Times which was broadcasted in inner core systems and pulled in an average of twenty to thirty systems each broadcast. The anchors for IW6 were locals, a Temrelien that needed a third grade translator unit just to be barely understood and a Myporie which couldn’t see the color green.

As the underdog’s underdog, IW6 more often fed off larger stories reported by other stations or small local stories relevant to a handful of worlds.  Nothing interesting happened in their corner of the universe so as long as they broke even they were fine to never reach further than the length of their arm.

Reggie Bradford was a hired on as a cameraman to work for one of the planetary studios on Orbin VIII. You’d find him either working in the back making sure the camera bots were functioning or, more often, when they weren’t he’d be manning the forty pound cameras himself. The studio crews were always amazed how this seemingly out of shape man could heft the heavy outdated camera unit like it was as light as a pen.

They wondered what a lone human was doing so far out in the boonies as he would say, but he would always shrug and say that he felt like this is where he belonged; a notion IW6 would be most grateful for in the coming days.

When the Intherax/Coalition war broke out it was the biggest news story to hit the plasma streams since the death of Empress Karen III when she was eaten by her own corganai.

The Intherax were a militaristic society, trained from birth to kill before anything else, and spanned some fifty star systems not including client kingdoms and vassals. General galactic dealings with them often boiled down to standing aside from whatever they wanted and hoping it wasn’t you or your world, lest the invasion armadas would descend and obliterate what little civilization your people had been able to achieve and then be sold into slavery.

This time however when the Intherax made a proclamation to annex the colony worlds of Jense, Shatu’a, and New Hamburg the current occupants politely told them to bugger off and formed a Coalition for mutual defense. From there dozens of governing powers flocked to the coalition and added their strength to it in what they saw as the best chance of finally checking Intherax aggression once and for all.

Ever one for a challenge, the Interax declared war on this new found coalition and opened the conflict by orbital bombarding Jense until it was little more than a cold husk of rock trapped in the decaying orbit of its system’s sun.

What followed was best described as two sides of no holds bar warfare as the Coalition retaliated with the first ever invasion of Intherax territory against the world called Kai’de.

Naturally every news organization wanted to be seen covering the war, including IW6. Sadly they did not have anyone either brave enough to send so they settled on sending someone they believed was stupid enough and sent Reggie.

They expected to get some b-roll of soldiers marching or shots of fleet warships in formation. They never expected nor asked him to go into active combat. So when the first feed came back during their late night broadcast they were surprised to see that Reggie was onboard an assault ship breaking through atmosphere.

“Reggie,” the Temrelien spoke with every other word shifting tone from the broken translator, “where are you?”

“I’m currently with brave members of the 27th Dragoons as they head to take the fight to the surface of Kai’de.”

Reggie waved a hand at the soldiers who in turn gave a rousing cheer and slammed their feet against the metal decking.

“Orders came in late last night for a massed landing to take the enemy by surprise. From what I understand the Intherax military had not expected coalition forces to invade their territory and have not had time to establish proper defenses.”

Both news anchors looked at each other in confusion.

“If that’s the case isn’t this broadcast putting the entire attack at risk?”

To their surprise Reggie laughed as the camera shook.

“The plan was to get them by surprise, but judging from the amount of anti-air fire,” he said as the assault ship rocked back and forth, “I don’t think they were fooled.”

The camera panned right suddenly as one of the armored dragoons grabbed it and spoke directly into it.

“We want them to know we’re coming! Because we’re going to kill them all!! AHAHAHAH!!”

Another chorus of cheers and whoops came from the soldiers as the soldier let go of the camera and Reggie readjusted it. The anchors wanted to continue their questions when the leader of the dragoons shouted out and interrupted them.

“60 seconds!”

With the order given the soldiers stopped their foolery and began hefting their weapons. Reggie panned the camera over them as they slapped in fresh clips or attached power cables from their backpack generators to their more heavy weaponry.

In awestruck silence the anchors and their viewers watched as the assault shuttle slammed hard into the surface and the boarding ramp flew open.

“GO GO GO GO!!!!” the dragoon leader shouted as the soldiers poured out screaming their battle cries. Reggie waited and filmed them as they disembarked but did not join the first out the ramp. A inclination that saved him as enemy gun fire began raking the ramp striking several soldiers down in clouds of viscera and gore.

The censors barely had time to cut the feed while the horrified anchors composed themselves to resume the broadcast.

In the hours that followed IW6 confirmed that Reggie had survived the battle and had been with the unit of dragoons for the entire duration. During those hours he had recorded the entire engagement from ramp down, to storming city streets as the Intherax deployed building sized walkers, to the hoisting of the coalition flag over the central governing building at the heart of the city.

With this footage viewership numbers for IW6 skyrocketed overnight as none of the other networks had been able to capture such stunning footage. In fact, by the intake of broadcasts none of them had been able to attach an anchor or cameramen to the initial assault save for Reggie. When asked how he had been able to get approved for such a deployment he did not say which only further added to the mystery. Yet for the moment IW6 was far from ready to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Reggie’s footage was shown over and over on IW6 and was soon sublicensed to other networks and shown there. Exploits of the dragoons became known galaxy wide as Reggie followed them through battle after battle; never afraid to risk his life to capture the perfect moment.

When the Intherax fleet arrived in orbit and began to bombard the planet while also fighting the coalition fleet Reggie had forgone sheltering in nearby bunker complexes to film the orbital strikes as they hurtled down all around them.

Thick columns of pure energy shattered buildings and mountains alike as the ground quaked and there stood a lone Reggie filming it all. Even when the anchors begged him to find shelter he simply panned the camera over the city to show entire skyscrapers be reduced to molten mounds the oozed and sludged through the city streets.

By the time the battle had finally ended thanks to Reggie’s footage IW6 climbed the viewership charts to be the third most watched network galaxy wide. Much to the dismay of IW6 it also drew the attention of Reggie the cameraman to the other outlets who began showering him with ever more lavish offers for employment.

Too their surprise he denied them all and said that he was right where he belonged.

[genderkoolaid]

Correcting the data feels ghoulish when we should just be free to grieve, but it matters. TMM records the number of murders using reports from a small number of organisations and individuals and news reports. No government or large agency records whether murder victims were trans. If only 350 trans people were murdered in 2023, that would be so shockingly low compared to the average global rate. The estimated annual global murder rate for all people is around 5.61 people per 100,000. If trans people were only murdered as often as cis people are, that would mean we'd expect around 4,500 murders per year (assuming we make up only 1% of the global population). When the total is off by an order of magnitude, how can we trust the percentage stated to be sex workers?

— When We’re Not Murdered: The Dangers of Deviance by Jack Parker

[lemonade4wanda]

Sniffle any louder

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state

Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread

Word count - 2k

A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry

Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.

Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.

Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.

Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.

She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.

This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.

Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.

After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.

Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.

Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.

"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.

Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.

She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.

Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.

"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.

"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."

Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.

"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.

"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."

You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.

"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.

"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."

"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.

"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.

You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.

Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.

"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.

You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.

Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling

[thegnomelord]

Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.

I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.

Once again good soup!

Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Hug from behind

CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.

Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.

Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.

You're not even sure when or why it had started.

It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.

None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.

Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.

Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.

You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.

Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.

You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"

You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.

"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.

Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.

It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.

Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.

It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).

Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.

"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.

"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.

"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.

Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.

You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.

You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.

"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.

And, Hell, Graves gets it now.

He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.

And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.

"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.

"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.

"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"

You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.

"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."

"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."

He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.

"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.

The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"