#how do i get together with my childhood friend

[pinkhoodi]

boyz in luv !

✎ᝰ — dc boys as romance tropes

♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, wally west, kaldur’ahm x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff & jason is slight ooc cause I didn’t feel like writing moody child jason sawry

♡⃕ — a/n: woooo mia writes once again. yall peepin my consistency ?

꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱

Ꮺ second chance ! — bruce is a man who excels in many things and one can say he has lived different lives, depending on who you’re asking. one thing he wished to excel in is romance, he has tried time and time again to be the perfect lover for someone yet that energy was never reciprocated back, unless for a hookup. not only that, his heart was never much into it when it came to all his previous lovers and he could never understand why. was something wrong with him? however, when it came to you, he felt that he gave his all, he felt himself pour more into you than he usually would with others. thus, the two of you ending things led to bruce feeling so much heartache to the point where he couldn’t handle it any longer. he needed to find a solution, a medication, something, anything to ease this pain in his chest. to think, the bruce wayne, aka batman, could feel emotional pain, who would’ve thought?

that pain led to longing, aching times of writing you letters, stopping by your job to see how you’re doing, looking through photographic memories, begging at your front door at one random night to ask what can he do to be back with you? he can no longer live a life without you and he genuinely doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ you fell first, he fell harder — to grayson, you were of quite importance. you two grew up in the same neighborhood until his parents was killed, you two attended the same school, and you two were always at each other’s side. if people were to find dick, they could find you next to him or somewhere near him. as years pass, and your friendship becomes deeper, dick finds himself growing feelings. as a young man, he couldn’t shake off these feelings that sprouted when you were around him. actually, neither of you could.

feelings always arose inside both of you when you two were in contact with one another, whether it be on the phone or him taking you out to a nice dinner. when you spoke, he could find himself dazed as he laid his eyes all over your beautiful features. when you lay your hand anywhere on him, as simple as the touch would be, the hairs on his body stick up, and finds himself getting hot as the touch lays on there.

the same would happen with you except the effects of his touch or his presence wouldn’t be as down bad as dick is with you. the potential crush that grew inside the both of you had made the simplest conversation become a rousing feeling to your beating hearts. except dick feels like his heart is close to exploding when he’s near you.

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ childhood friends to frenemies to lovers — jason was sweet, jason was loving, jason was determined to be the brave boy just like his father. he was everything you dreamed and wanted from in a boy, since grade school you dreamed of jason todd being your dream boy. maybe it’s the crush, maybe it’s the crazy promise to each other that you’ll live together by the age of thirty if neither of you gets married. you don’t know what it is but it gave you the idea that you and jason will be stuck like glue till death do you part. a great idea for two grade schoolers but not for someone like you who was startled by jason’s behavior after being “missing” all these years.

either way, he was not the jason you’ve known and grown up with. this jason was coldhearted, brute, and didn’t have much care to be in your life, unlike younger jason. he came off with a cold shoulder and you came to the point that your friendship has gone away from his memories, you didn’t matter to him as much he mattered to you. at least, that’s what he wanted you to think.

throughout you dealing with and not wanting to accept this new jason, he was fighting with himself on whether he should make the best of your burned-out friendship to keep you from all danger or be selfish and keep your love with him, no matter the consequence you may both have to face. protect y/n and live with long-term yearning or protect your own heart and live in bliss with y/n? choose wisely jason, choose wisely.

꒰ WALLY WEST ꒱

Ꮺ unrequited love — the young man with so much to love but sometimes oh so clueless. he was intelligent and knew how to act in certain situations, making him quick-minded. however, he hasn't caught on when it came to catching hints of you flirting with him. which is strange for a man who likes to flirt with almost every woman in sight. then again, it’s the same for you when he tries to flirt with you and you just think of it as casual flirting. you don’t think anything of it since wally is a flirt, you usually just play on till you can’t anymore.

even when people assumed that you and wally have something going on, you would laugh it off and deny it. even if it does sting a bit to fake it and say that you and wally are friends, while you internally want something more. it’s not better on wally’s side either; his usual cheery and chill attitude dampers just slightly when he hears you say that the two of you are friends.

the situation of unrecognized unrequited love has both of you two’s hearts aching for one another. You don’t how long you can last by being “just friends” with wally and wally doesn’t know how long he’ll last by pretending that this crush isn’t eating him alive. as for now, friends till one confesses.

꒰ KALDUR’AHM ꒱

Ꮺ everyone sees it but them — oh kaldur, the handsome blonde man with facial features that’ll make the angels sing and a personality that could make anyone want to marry him. he’s extremely kind, soft-hearted, caring, has great leadership skills, and has everything that just screams he needs to be in your life. well, he is, as your friend, a close friend.

you two grew up together training in the young justice league and became close after one mission that almost cost you your life. he was there, by your side taking care of you and keeping watch until you completely healed. ever since then, you two has been stuck to the hip, unintentionally, and neither of you seems to mind. even when your teammates make lil comments, “look at the lovely couple” “aww when’s the wedding?” “there goes couple of the year”. you usually roll your eyes at the comments and go about your day with kaldur.

however, maybe the comments meant something; seeing as the way kaldur’s smile grows when you’re explaining something, your laughter that brings a sort of bliss to your ears. it also doesn’t help that konnor and wally notices the way kaldur lets his hand linger on yours until they’re intertwined, or the way your cheeks are so prominent when kaldur is around, and the loving expression that is present. your cheeks rise, a smile displayed, and your eyes tie it all into your facial expression potentially screaming, “I’m in love.”

but of course, the signals that everyone around notices, you two seem oblivious to notice. even when they try to point it out to either of you, you just use the excuse, “so, we’re friends. do friends not do that?” friends…right right, of course, friends!

♡⃕ technically, i had something similar for these hcs from the song “another life” by sza. but they didn’t come out how i wanted so we’re just gonna stick with these !

♡⃕ okay but the way I’ve been actually feeding yall likeeee 🤭

𝐕𝐎𝐓��� 💗: isaiah 41:13

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟧 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[vinocean22]

20 Things Spanking Fetishists Have in Common

Sweet Tea

Spankos are soulmates. The fetish hardwires our hearts and minds in remarkably consistent ways that aren’t usually apparent to others, so it’s always a bit magical when we chat. “Holy shit, you get me.” I still find it shocking how much we have in common. Can you relate to this list?

1. We’ve been like this for a very long time.

“I’m a lifelong spanko.” This is common in our community and not all that surprising, as most fetishes are formed during childhood. The vast majority of spankos I’ve met have either been this way for as long as they can remember, or can pinpoint a specific age in childhood when they became preoccupied with thoughts of the act. I can’t personally remember any point in my life when spanking didn’t fascinate me and captivate my attention.

2. It’s not a choice.

For many people, spanking is a kink. They enjoy it and find it sexy, but don’t necessarily consider it a requirement for a good time. For those with the fetish, however, spanking is a need rather than an option. Some of us can appreciate and enjoy other BDSM-related activities like bondage or wax play or needles, but spanking is central to our sexuality. This thing lies at the core of our soul and we couldn’t get rid of it if we tried.

We looked up the word ‘spanking’ in the dictionary as kids, not once but multiple times. This also applied to related words like ‘paddle’, ‘switch’, ‘flog’, ‘discipline’, or ‘punish’. We knew their meanings, of course, but the act of reading the definitions was exciting—arousing, even—though we may have been too young to conceptualize the feeling as sexual. If we studied a foreign language, we sat in class and wondered in the back of our minds, “But what’s the word for ‘spanking’?”

(Is this common with other fetishes? Did foot fetishists look up the words ‘foot’, ‘high heel’, ‘stocking’, etc. at the library, bashfully looking around to make sure no one else would notice? I wonder…)

4. We have, uhhh, ‘issues’ with being around it.

Non-spankos can talk about spanking like it’s nothing, but that’s not the case for people with a fetish for it. We may turn bright red when the topic comes up in conversation or feel the need to leave the room when spankings happen in movies or TV shows. For some, this is because the idea triggers intense arousal, even more so than if straight-up intercourse were playing onscreen. For others, it’s simply too intimate and embarrassing to think about unless we’re by ourselves or discussing it in the context of a sexual encounter. When I was a kid and friends publicly proclaimed, “My mom spanked me yesterday!” I felt absolutely mortified. “How can anyone talk about THAT so casually?”

5. We think about it a looooooot.

Some researcher folks have claimed we all think about sex an average of 18-35 times a day. The fetishists I know think about spanking at least this often if not more, frequently daydreaming about the smacking of butts. A fetish is, by definition, a meticulous obsession. We live and breathe it, and never run out of things to say when chatting with other spankos. We want to meet people like us and TALK about it in detail, even if we never end up playing together. It’s our favorite means of connection.

6. Our fetish has caused us hardship.

“Do you feel like your fetish is a curse?” I’ve seen this asked quite a bit on spanko forums. Most of us had to navigate a number of challenges while growing up with this thing. We felt shame, embarrassment, and isolation after realizing how different we were, and may have worried we were crazy. Our relationships with non-spankos have likely been riddled with intimacy problems because we can’t relate to each other sexually. No matter how kinky or open-minded our partners are, they’re unlikely to understand us unless they have the fetish too. As a result, many spankos become pickier over time, ultimately refusing to date those outside of their orientation. “I’d rather be single than with someone I can’t share this with.” Until we find our people, it’s a lonely world.

7. Spanking takes priority over sex.

Every spanko I’ve ever met has put spanking at the forefront of the itinerary. It’s satisfying in its own right for a lot of folks, whether or not other sexy stuff occurs before or afterward. Some spankos identify as asexual, eschewing intercourse entirely because it doesn’t interest them in the same way discipline does. Others are extremely sexual people who focus on spanking as the main course or frequently indulge as an extended form of foreplay. This is an example of why we might experience difficulty finding balance with non-spanko partners. By the time they’re ready to move onto something else, we’re just getting in the zone.

8. It’s on our mind when we orgasm.

One of the first times I had sex with another spanko, I was blown away by the level of telepathy between us. I closed my eyes and fantasized as he licked my clit. He suddenly paused and smiled. “You’re thinking about having your pants pulled down, aren’t you?” I mean fuck, of course I was, but how did he know?! With a bit more experience in the community, I realized many if not all spankos think about it while they’re getting off. The moment thoughts of discipline enter my mind I’m aroused, but I cool off just as quickly if my focus is drawn elsewhere. If I didn’t think about spanking, I’m not sure I’d ever climax.

9. Most of us have tried switching at least once.

Some spankos like to give and receive in equal share, but many have a preference toward being spanker or spankee. I’ve noticed, though, that even the most stubborn of us who proclaim, “I don’t switch!” have tried a taste of the other side out of curiosity at some point. It makes sense to want to learn all angles of the equation. I’m in favor of the idea that everyone benefits from switching. Understanding what our partners experience makes us all better lovers.

10. We want spankings to feel as ‘real’ as possible.

Often, spankees want to cry. We want to be held down and ‘made’ to take it until our spanker is done, no matter what we say or do. This makes the experience feel more real, as if we’re truly being punished by an authority figure and have no choice in the matter. Once trust has been established, some spankees will afford their partners blanket consent and opt not to use safewords. (I don’t recommend this route with anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life. There are oodles of legitimately fucked up people out there masking their abusive tendencies as BDSM. Vet your spankers well, ladies and gents.) This all exists to enhance the pleasure of the fantasy, but isn’t an invitation to violate limits. We want our spankers to be perceptive, taking us just far enough to inspire tears and provide release, but not so far as to genuinely break or traumatize us. Finding this balance is an art form that requires empathy, intelligence, communication, and skill.

11. We all have our preferences.

What implements do you like? What are your favorite positions? What kinds of spankings are your favorite to give? Bruises or no bruises? How long do you like to go for? What kinds of behavior would earn a spanking from you? These are the sexy deets we discuss when we chat, and our answers say a lot about our personalities. It’s rare for a spanko not to have feelings about such things. More often than not, we have specific reasons for liking what we like.

12. We enjoy associated activities.

To state the obvious: spankos love butts. LOOOOOOOOVE them. Naturally, we tend to enjoy other ass-focused activities in conjunction with spanking, like anal play, doggy-style sex, enemas, thermometers, and between-the-cheeks ‘inspections’. Many of us also dig other punishment-related activities traditionally associated with spanking, like corner time or writing lines. “I will not behave like such a sassy little brat. I will not behave like such a sassy little brat…”

13. For us, spanking is its own category.

I’ve noticed a desire in the spanko community to distinguish what we like from the greater umbrella of BDSM. Clearly, spanking incorporates elements of discipline, D/s, and sadomasochism. However, what most of us mean when we mention our fetish is far more specific. We’re not talking whips, dungeons, or shibari. We’re talking traditional, domestic bare-bottom OTK punishment with hands, paddles, belts, wooden spoons, bath brushes, and other goodies found in the home. It’s a comforting, parental, for-your-own-good type of vibe wherein we call our partners Mommy, Daddy, or other titles that convey nurturing familiarity. Very different than, say, having a cold ‘master-slave’ dynamic in a relationship, which tends to be a bit too much for our taste.

14. We love every stage of the process.

A non-spanko might solely imagine the physical slapping of cheeks when we refer to our love of spanking, but that's not the long and short of the matter. Spankos adore the entire arc of the narrative. The misbehavior that led to the spanking. The threats and anticipation. Getting into position. The warm-up and removal of each layer of clothing, all the way until the spankee’s bottom is bared. The swats, first with hands, then a variety of implements. The communication surrounding lecturing and admonishment. The catharsis of tears. The slow tenderness and beauty of aftercare. The closeness the ritual inspires. The intimate drama of this entire process is deeply satisfying.

15. We distinguish between different kinds of spankings.

What is the purpose of the spanking being given? Punishment? Maintenance? Stress relief? Eroticism? This detail is important to us, for it influences the style in which the spanker spanks. Sexual spankings often involve caressing of nether-regions and start off somewhat softly, building in strength at a comfortable pace throughout a drawn-out warm-up period. Punishment spankings embody an entirely different space. They are meant to be intense, painful, and challenging to endure.

16. We watch a lot of the same porn.

My closest spanko friends and I send each other links to videos every so often. “Have you seen this one?” A lot of the time the answer is yes, for we’re drawn to the same spankers, spankees, and couples who create our favorite content. Spanking vids with a glitzier, more porny atmosphere tend to be lower on the ladder than amateur, traditionally domestic ones. Again, we want it all to feel as real as possible. The “we shot this at home while punishing actual misbehavior” setup provides more satisfaction.

17. We don’t usually watch our porn with non-spankos.

Back when I used to date vanilla and guys would ask, “What kind of porn do you watch?” I would lie and pretend porn wasn’t my thing. This is because I knew that what I watch would likely bore them. A clip with fifteen straight minutes of nothing but spanking, sans sex, would likely make a lot of people’s eyes roll back into their sockets. “So monotonous!” Once I started dating spankos, however, I found much joy in sharing, knowing we could relish each and every moment together.

18. We all want a house out in the boonies.

Ask a spanko about their goals for the future and many will answer, “I want to buy land.” This is because our activity of choice is LOUD and has the potential to disturb nearby neighbors. Nothing ruins a good time like a visit from the fuzz. The begging, screaming, and crying… they are cleansing to our souls and we wish to do them freely. It’s countryside living for us, boy howdy.

19. We’re very romantic people.

It comes as no surprise that many spankos are traditionalists. We often relish old-timey acts of devotion like marriage, opening doors, buying flowers, and cooking for our partners. Many are monogamous and like to wait to have sex until deep bonds of commitment are set in stone. Spanking is an extension of this attitude toward intimacy. We’re so deeply devoted to our partners that we refuse to turn our backs on their misbehavior, laziness, procrastination, or feelings of guilt. Instead we stay, face them, and do what must be done to help them deal with their problems, following up with plenty of aftercare involving sweetness and reassurance. Squeeee.

20. We speak the same love language.

For partners with a consensual domestic discipline dynamic, spanking is an act of love. It’s an intimate ritual centering on a potent giving and receiving of attention. A means of setting aside time to converse and communicate about the challenges of relationships and everyday affairs. A tool for strengthening the bond and balancing the energy between spanker and spankee. A way of helping one another feel “right” and “natural” in a world that so often feels like it’s tumbling off its axis. In nonconsensual or manipulative contexts, spanking is abuse. Between those of us who crave it from one other, it’s the highest form of affection.

Granted, these are solely my thoughts based on my own observations and experiences.

Anything to add, spankos?

Reach out, I'd love to hear you : https://www.the-rose-moon.com/post/20-things-spanking-fetishists-have-in-common

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.2 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.1 wordcount: 1248

The Louis Vuitton event was everything it was supposed to be—elegant, high-profile, filled with models, designers, and A-list athletes. You had been to fashion events before, but this was different. The merging of fashion and motorsport brought a unique energy, an almost surreal overlap of two worlds you hadn’t expected to be a part of at the same time.

You kept yourself busy, moving between conversations with your colleagues at Louis Vuitton, small talk, strategic networking, and answering questions about the collection. Lando had been doing his own thing—flashing smiles for the cameras, entertaining sponsors, talking to reporters, and a rotation of beautiful women.

You didn’t interact much throughout the night. Still, you were aware of him, it was impossible not to be in the suit you styled him in. You knew you had done a good job.

Until you heard your name.

The interviewer was smiling, microphone angled toward Lando as cameras recorded. 

"Yeah, the partnership with Louis Vuitton is great. But not only that, this outfit is styled by my sister’s best friend, which makes it extra special," Lando said smoothly, the perfect PR-trained answer. "Means a lot to me to be working together—first at Quadrant and now here at Louis Vuitton."

You stilled.

It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. Like it was some full-circle, sentimental thing. Like he had ever said something like that to you before. As if you had actually personally worked together at Quadrant. It annoyed you, making your professional work sound like something personal and intimate, reserved for him, as if you hadn’t styled some of the other drivers with the same attention.

You turned away, ignoring the weird mix of irritation and something heavier sitting in your chest. You weren’t going to let it get to you.

And you hadn’t planned on saying anything.

But when the event was wrapping up and you were back at the hotel, by some cruel twist of fate, you ended up in the elevator together. Just the two of you, the hum of the lift filling the silence as the doors slid shut.

Lando leaned back against the mirrored wall, hands in his pockets, looking unbothered as ever. You had to say something. 

"What was that all about?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about?"

You gave him a look. "That perfect little PR answer."

He smirked slightly. "Thought you’d appreciate the shoutout."

You folded your arms, unimpressed. "You’ve never said anything like that to me before."

"Didn’t know you wanted me to, the media has given you enough attention." he shot back, tilting his head.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "Right, cause that’s all I care about."

Lando turned, arms folding over his chest. "What’s the problem? It was a nice answer."

"That’s not the point."

"Then what is?"

You didn’t have an immediate response, which only made his smirk widen.

The elevator doors slid open, and before you could walk out, his voice stopped you.

"Anyway," he drawled, walking towards the door. "Thanks for the nice outfit, it was great, should’ve asked you to style me sooner.’’ he stretched his arms above his head, yawning.  ‘’Can’t wait to take it off though. Looking good is exhausting, sweet dreams stylist" 

You rolled your eyes without a response, walking to your room annoyed that it had gotten to you.

-

The second night of the Louis Vuitton x F1 launch was in full swing, luxury and motorsport merging under glittering lights. You kept to your side of the event, mingling with the LV team and ensuring the drivers looked sharp.

You barely interacted with Lando after yesterday, just the occasional glance across the room to admire the suit you had picked out for him tonight.

Then, as if sensing your thoughts, your phone buzzed.

Lando: Where are you?

You frowned, typing back.

You: At the event, obviously.

Lando: Need you. Now.

Your heartbeat kicked up. You glanced around, trying to spot him, but he wasn’t in sight.

You: What? Why?

No response.

Then another buzz.

Lando: Toilets. Back hallway. Please.

Your stomach twisted. Without thinking too much, you slipped away from the crowd, making your way toward the hallway. You pushed open the door to the private restroom area, and there he was—leaning against the sink, looking both frustrated and amused.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

Lando exhaled sharply, tugging at the waistband of his pants. ���Zipper broke.”

You stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m making it up for fun,” he deadpanned. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Your eyes narrowed, stepping closer. “A Louis Vuitton zipper doesn’t just break.”

Lando hesitated. Just for a second.

It was quick, but you caught it. And suddenly, the situation felt… off.

You crossed your arms. “What exactly were you doing before this broke?”

Lando’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the shift—the slight smirk, the too-casual way he leaned back.

“Are you implying something?” he asked, voice teasing.

You raised a brow. “I don’t know. Am I?”

His grin widened, but he didn’t answer.

Your stomach twisted, an irrational frustration bubbling up. Why did you care? It wasn’t your business what—or who—he was doing before this event. But the thought of him slipping away with someone, being careless enough to mess up his suit right before stepping out onto the carpet, annoyed you more than it should have.

“Forget it,” you muttered, stepping closer. “Just—hold still.”

Lando’s smirk lingered, but he obeyed, shifting just enough to give you better access.

You knelt down, fingers adjusting the fabric quickly. The problem itself wasn’t as bad as he made it sound—it was a minor snag, nothing you couldn’t handle. But the proximity was dangerous. Your fingers moved with careful precision, but it was impossible not to graze the warm skin beneath the waistband. You could feel the way Lando barely shifted, his breath steady but controlled, like he was making an effort not to react.

“Not bad at this, are you?” Lando murmured, voice lower than before.

You didn’t respond. You just focused, ignoring the way his muscles tensed when your fingers brushed against him.

Finally, with one last tug, you straightened. “There. Fixed.” 

Lando glanced down, then back up at you. Neither of you moved.

The air shifted.

And then, before you could think too hard about it, he leaned in.

His lips met yours, firm and insistent. It was messy, rushed, like neither of you had planned for this but couldn’t stop it either. You barely had time to react before you were kissing him back. His hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you into him like he was afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

Then, as suddenly as it started, you pulled back.

Breathless.

Lando exhaled, eyes flickering over your face, searching. “Well,” he murmured. “That’s one way to handle a wardrobe malfunction.”

You stared at him, your own breath unsteady.

What the hell just happened?

WN: Hope you guys like it! Let me know!

tl: @freyathehuntress

[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) Teaser

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Teaser word count: 1.2k rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now.

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

[…] It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did.

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?”

“They’re watching…” He sang, eyes glazing over off in the distance.

You slightly turned your head to watch his view, seeing a few of your friends off in the distance, coming from the beach or slightly in view from the poolside, that could easily catch you in whatever act you and Seungcheol looked like you were up to. However, at this point, everyone seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, minding their own businesses. You weren’t sure if it mattered.

You snickered, resting your hands on his shoulders and readjusting your knees as they dug into the seat cushions. “You’re gonna go this far?”

“Yep. I have to look like a good boyfriend.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “You had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know?” He mumbled dumbly, his dimple indented extra deep.

You shook your head in disbelief, dipping your head forward and momentarily colliding with his in a headbutt. You reacted as expected, rubbing your forehead at the slight ache you caused, but from the lack of tact of the receiver, your assumptions were true. “You're so drunk right now.”

His hand rose to your hair, patting it down before finding your ear. As he thumbed over the curve of the helix, he could feel the heat bloom between his fingers. “You look so pretty right now.”

“Cheol,” you tried getting up, but he sat you back down, gripping you by your hips until they met his.

“Stay,” he quietly pleaded, his eyes glistening under the moonlight staring back at you with utter need that you have no choice but just melt right back in his touch.

You couldn’t believe the situation happening right now, and neither could your heart in your chest as it started beating at twice its usual rate. All you could focus on was his hands as they traveled up your body, skimming through the thin fabric of your shirt, following up your spine as he let out soft, ragged breaths.

You pressed the pads of your fingers a little deeper into the meat of his shoulders, “S-Seungcheol–”

“Do you know what will really convince them?” His voice is unrecognizable, deep and indulgent.

You made the ghost of a whimper as a finger travelled back down your body as you responded earnestly. “I don’t think we have to do much more convincing. I think they believe us when we say we’re a couple.”

“But you know what will really convince them though?”

You were scared to even ask, thinking a single word would burst this bubble you have no idea how you got caught in. “What?” you asked softly.

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

Lucanis' whole character and journey is trying to answer the question "Can we ever really come home?" I think it's so interesting that saving Treviso is what gives you more content about his struggles with possession and ptsd. His home is saved and, sure, it's changed a little because time has passed, but Lucanis can't shake the feeling that the city isn't his home anymore. He wants so desperately to visit his old hang out and see his friends and go back to his life, but he is so fundamentally different that it's just impossible. A blighted Treviso is almost easier on him because he has something tangible to blame for the feeling, but when his city is almost exactly the same (minus the Antaam)? That means it's HIM that's too different.

Spite obviously factors into this, right? First, Lucanis doesn't go home alone. He has another person in his head. It's not just that, though. He's going through an ego death. He's fighting with the idea that there was always something fundamentally wrong with him. He was always one step away from being filled with spite.

He also has to face his upbringing when he goes home. His childhood and training and the factors that filled him with determination. Determination which twisted so easily into Spite. He's angry at what he went through in the Ossuary, but he's also angry at what he went through in Treviso. He was tortured and possessed and made into an abomination for a contract. Because of the life he was groomed for.

No one can ever really go home, at least in my opinion. We change and we grow and then we return to a place that was shaped around someone who doesn't exist anymore. It chafes and it confines. Lucanis has spent a whole year confined and then he returns to his home and realizes that his life has been another type of prison. But. There is no Lucanis without that life and without Treviso and without the Crows.

Except there is. At the Lighthouse. With Rook and the team. I think that's why he's so caring and soft when he's there. It's the first time he's had a chance to build his own home and be seen by people who don't necessarily see him as only a tool. He can decide who he is. He's still an abomination, though, so even that new hope is tainted. It's important that he gets the chance to come to terms with Spite and to make the promise that they'll move forward together and figure out how to be their own people.

I think that's it. Lucanis needs to figure out how to be his own person, and that's not always something you can do at home.

[lexirosewrites]

for slick sunday:

Royal AU where Prince Edward has always been destined to be an omega, it’s “written in the stars” according to the seers in the castle. They’ve never been wrong, so everyone prepares for him to marry an alpha from another country when he’s of age. But he feels like they’re wrong, it feels wrong.

When he presents as an alpha, the entire castle, the entire village is shocked. His rut is much worse than any the healers have seen, and he’s becoming more aggressive the longer he goes without an omega to help him through.

Cue his childhood best friend Steve, who left the village for a while when he presented as an omega unexpectedly, finding out. He hasn’t seen Eddie in a few years, but he knows what he has to do.

The moment he shows up, Eddie calms. It’s like a switch is flipped and Eddie falls to his knees, buries his face against Steve’s hip, and whines. Steve brushes his hand through his hair and whispers as much comfort as he can while he shoos everyone from the room.

It’s a long two days, but Steve helps Eddie through his rut, does anything that Eddie needs. Eddie is good to him, softer than he expected. He’s still very out of it, but he’s always nudging Steve to drink water and lay down so he’s comfortable. He goes slow, even when Steve knows how much he wants to take charge, go faster, go harder.

When it passes, Steve’s prepared to leave. He did what he came to do and doesn’t expect Eddie to want him to stick around. They aren’t friends anymore, even though Steve will always love Eddie for seeing the real him, the version of him that Steve hid around others because it was too soft, too loving, too much.

But Eddie asks him to stay, have the healers look him over to make sure he’s not hurt. Steve insists he’s fine, but Eddie insists harder.

Steve stays.

And stays.

And he doesn’t leave Eddie’s side for weeks.

No one asks questions, they just accept that the prince won’t let Steve out of his sight.

When Steve misses his next heat, he feels like running. They aren’t mates, despite how inseparable they are, despite the love shared in Eddie’s bed nearly every night. A baby born out of wedlock, out of a bond, even in their case, would be considered illegitimate.

But when he tells Eddie his fears, Eddie’s ecstatic.

They meet with Wayne immediately, and he’s just as ecstatic as Eddie is.

“I worried when he presented as an alpha instead, that we’d spend years searching for a worthy omega. But I think I should be more worried that he isn’t worthy enough of you.”

They bond days later, and have a marriage ceremony shortly after that.

One night shortly before their baby is born, Eddie is holding Steve in bed, humming songs he’s made up just for him.

“I believe I was always meant to be your alpha.”

“The stars said differently.”

“Stars can be wrong. Fate is a mysterious thing.”

“So fate brought us here?”

“Fate brought you to me and I refused to give you back.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give me back. I quite like it here with you.”

omfg when you said Steve missed his heat my chest hurt because I thought he was gonna run away😭 I’m so glad they get to be happy together!!!

[wingzie]

Home - Mi Casa

On 20th December, my flat flooded. This was due to a fault in the flat above, which caused water from their boiler to vastly flow into my flat. This happened for about six hours until someone came to fix the problem. The only way I can describe it is like watching a waterfall of warm water cascade across my entire flat. It will probably come to no surprise that, after the event was over, my flat was deemed unlivable due to the water damage. I have since also had to throw out most of my furniture and belongings. After having a somewhat stressful Christmas at my Mother’s, I came back knowing that I was effectively homeless and I have been living at a hotel for over a month now. My current stay is until the end of March, but I have been warned that the work in my flat might take up to June to complete. Which is somewhat poetic, if it will take that long. All of this has got me thinking about one thing though: What classes as a home? I have mentioned before how, due to my parents work, my childhood involved moving location every couple of years. I thought this was “the norm” and just went along with it. Even when my parents divorced. When my Mother wanted to move closer to her own family, she asked if I wanted to move to somewhere near her. Or stay closer to work. I chose the later option and found a lovely place to rent near work. Where I had just been promoted at the time. Things were going well and I wanted to use this opprtunity to start my own life.

Lockdown happened shortly afterwards, so I missed a big chunk of getting to know the area and the local people. However, I made up for it later on with community work and have since made some amazing friends. These include army and non army and this is where I consider myself very lucky. Though I am still having nightmares and my mental health isn’t the greatest right now, the kindness of people around me since the flood has been incredible. 

I have several colleagues who fight over who will do my washing or bring me meals. Some friends have invited me to their houses. The belongings which survived are scattered around different houses in storage. People often check in on me. And I try to do what I can in return to thank them. It’s a big part of what makes a community a community. And thus what makes the community a secure part of a home. It keeps things going even if one falls down or needs support.

In terms of BTS, we have seen Yoongi be afraid of moving in the past. Jungkook mentioned the members being back together in BV4. How the members congregated together during ITS or at hotels whilst on tour. No matter where they go or no matter how long apart, they make it work or lift each other up. The same goes for their group chat too or hearing each other's voices on the phone. As long as they are together, they are able to keep going as a team. And in part of that, I am also very grateful that Jimin and Jungkook have each other right now. 

Not being in your physical home throws you completely off balance, but knowing you have that connection with others and the love around it goes a long way. And that is what makes a home. Note: I know this is very different than what I normally post, but I have had this in my drafts for a while and decided I might aswel share it. Talking about how traumatic the last month has been is somewhat helpful to and I would like to thank everyone who has reached out, offered helped or been so understanding about my lack of post schedule. Much Love, Becca xx

[crazylittlejester]

Could you give us more about trans Time? (If that’s okay!)

Love that hc btw, it makes me really happy ^^

hell yes i can!! I love trans Time, trans that man's gender. oot link is like the vibes of transgenderism compressed into one single silly little guy (gender neutral). however people trans oot link's gender is always correct in my mind (i personally hc him to be ftm but i really do love seeing any version of him that's not cis)

im gonna apologize rn for any typos or oddly autocorrected words im dyslexic and my laptop works against me sometimes lmao

anyways not sure what exactly you wanted to know (and feel free to ask more questions!!) but i think this was in reference to my modern au post so!!:

Time was born in the late 70s (since the au takes place in present day and he is a good 25 years older than Twi), so growing up he didn't really see a whole lot of trans people who could've helped him realize he was trans sooner, especially because his childhood was mostly him having an awful time with his physical health and arguing with his father for the chance to go to public school and not be homeschooled like his siblings (he is the youngest of 6) because he didn't get along with all of them and wanted to meet new people

Looking back on it NOW he can recognize he realized he was trans when he was like, 12, but at the time he didn't really know what that was and just cut his hair short and didn't understand why he got so happy when people mistakenly called him a boy

There was a period of time where he was confused and thought he was a lesbian (he is bisexual) and he dated Ruto for like a year in high school but they kinda ended up becoming friends instead (they're STILL friends), and then he dated Sheik, who is a trans man, and the realization hit him like a bus

He graduated high school and then just kinda dipped off the map, he didn't realy have friends (besides Ruto, and MALON considered them friends but he didn't realize she liked him that much) so he didn't really keep in contact with people except for Sheik (he was also doing pretty bad physically at this point in time), but he started socially transitioning around 18 and was able to start medically transitioning around 20. Not all his siblings were super accepting, and he's completely cut contact with one of them, but his sister closest to him in age who was his best friend growing up was his biggest supporter

(this modern au takes place in a modernized Hyrule kingdom loosely based on where I live because obviously where I live is the best idea I have of how modern sociey works since I'm living in it, lmao, but Hyrule kingdom was a little more progressive in the late 90s and while gender affirming care wasn't SUPER easy to access, it WAS accessable. the main issue for Time was transphobia from his oldest brother and the people from his INCREDIBLY tightknit town, because outside of that people didn't know he was trans)

Malon was fully aware he was trans because she met him before HE realized that, so when those two got together he didn't have to worry about telling her or anything. And they WERE going to adopt kids at some point, but then Time's sister died and her husband had passed away too and she'd written in her will that she'd wanted Time to take care of her baby (Twi), because she wanted him to have a wonderful environment growing up and she trusted Time more than their other siblings even though they'd all already settled down and had their own kids and were experienced parents (also to be fair, she didn't expect to die and leave her 13 month old an orphan. it was just an IN the event of her death kinda thing, she very much would've rather been able to raise her kid herself)

Time doesn't really give two fucks about passing, not anymore, he wears what he wants, but most people DO assume he's a cis man because he's decently tall and has a deeper, monotoned voice. Transphobia does still exist in Hyrule Kingdom, though it's not as bad as it was when Time was a kid, and also the city where the boys' apartment in is incredibly LGBTQ+ friendly (not that that means homophobia and transphobia don't exist, it's just a much safer area to be out that other places in the kingdom) so he doesn't ever feel like he has to HIDE being trans. He goes to pride parades sometimes (when he knows he won't get overwhelmed) and he and Malon are definitely that older couple who give out free supportive parent hugs to people who really need it

Legend in this au is also a trans man, and I wouldn't call Wild cis but he's amab and uses he/him pronouns at the moment while he figures things out (he's also perfectly fine with they/them)

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{My contribution to the fandom. The obligatory "everyone lives together in one big house and they kiss kiss kiss, and they love love love each other.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Eventual Smut. SFW (For now)

Chapter 4 : Weirdos

You set an alarm for early in the morning, wanting to beat Zayne. Getting ready felt weird in the spacious bathroom, and it took you longer than you’d like to figure out what to wear. 

Maybe you would get a uniform…something practical like some overalls or coveralls. 

With your coziest sweater and simple dark pants, you scurried downstairs, hoping to make breakfast to impress your childhood friend and prove that you would do a good job.

The common area was quiet and empty, and you kept the lights to a minimum because 1) the sun was barely risen and 2) you couldn’t find the light switch. You wouldn’t be surprised if a place like this had a remote to control it all– or voice controls. You were tempted to try it, but the embarrassment if there weren’t voice controls wasn’t it.

In the oversized but poorly filled fridge you found a few eggs in a carton in the back and a half eaten loaf of bread in the pantry. Some sugar, milk and cinnamon later and you had some French toast.

You heard ruckus down the hall and then footsteps, turning with a smile you expected to see Zayne but instead found Xavier. He was already dressed in his hunter’s uniform. You had wondered about it when you saw him last night– what rank was he? His white uniform was completely different from the hunters you knew. The long grey mauve gloves and neatly folded lapels were more formal than practical. Elegant instead of utilitarian. 

Overcoming your momentary surprise, you smiled and placed two slices onto a plate. “Good morning! Off to work?”

Xavier seemed just as surprised to see you if not more so. His blue eyes a bit wide as he walked over to the barstool and the plate you slid towards him, “Good morning…I have patrol in the morning. Then I have to catch up with my reports.” 

You gave him an understanding smile, “Yikes, those are always so tedious. How far behind are you?”

Xavier blinked, staring down at the simple plate in front of him like he couldn’t believe it was there. “Three weeks.”

“That’s not so bad.” You try to assure, “The reports are always my least favorite part and— between us?— I ask Patrick on the fourth floor to help me. He prefers desk work.”

The blond man looks up at you and the galaxies in his eyes sparkle. A hint of a smile appears on his face and without another word he begins to dig in.

Zayne appears in a mild rush, examining his watch on one wrist while his other hand holds his phone. His hair was neatly groomed and he smelled like soap and mildly of mahogany cologne. 

“Good morning!” You greet as you finish the next pair of toast for him. “Extra syrup?” 

Zayne’s face is stuck in his phone but he glances at the toast and frowns disappointed, “I’ve got an early surgery scheduled. They posted it late last night, I have to go.” 

His phone buzzed a few times– messages arriving in rapid sequence. His thumb tapping away furiously, he barely seems to notice himself walking over to you, placing a hand on one side of your head and pulling you over to place a quick kiss to your hair. A soft squeak leaves you, and your face blooms with heat. 

Hurried steps take him away from you, and he pauses by Xavier at the bar and does the same to him. A hand on one side of his head and a chaste kiss on the other side. Xavier, unlike you, seems prepared for the action and leans into it. 

“I’ll be back around six.” Zayne mumbles in goodbye as he rushes away, the ding of the elevator signaling his escape. 

A soft chuckle pulls your attention back to the living world and you find Xavier resting his chin on his hand and elbow resting on the counter, “You look startled.” 

You shake your head, just barely catching the toast before it burns, “He was in a hurry. He probably just wasn’t thinking.”

The blush on your face feels here to stay as you finish making the last plates and the clean up. 

Xavier takes his time eating and then puts his plate in the sink, sidling up next to you with his scent of fresh cotton and teak.

“Do I get one too? Miss housekeeper?” Xavier’s voice in your ear makes you shiver and your breath hitches.

“I’m sorry?” You blurt looking down at the hand he has braced on the counter next to the sink.

“A kiss goodbye? Was that part of your contract?” 

You scowl, “No, that’s not part of my contract. And I don’t like what you're insinuating.”

Xavier hums and shifts to lean a little further away from you, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve heard that a kiss goodbye is good luck. Make sure the one leaving returns home safely.”

You set down the plate you were rinsing and then look up at him, “That’s usually only for couples.  Not for…us.” 

Xavier blinks and you think you see an asteroid in his starry eyes. A shimmer of stardust that sparkles with mirth at you, “Maybe next time then.” 

His tone is yielding and he steps away and out of your personal space. He thanks you for the breakfast and bids you goodbye, much more than you thought you’d get as a housekeeper.

Alone again, you deflate with a heavy exhale. That was too weird. Zayne had never been physically affectionate before, and never done something like that. A kiss on your hair could hardly be called scandalous but it burned you like stoking embers with a handful of dry grass. 

It was hard enough finding Zayne attractive and staying platonic. You didn’t think your heart could take even that little show of affection— you’d burst for sure.

Not to mention Xavier. What was his deal? If you didn’t know any better— and being honest you don’t— you’d think he was jealous. The sharpness in his eyes as he asked for his own goodbye kiss. He’d gotten one from Zayne, was that not enough?

That too… the puzzle of this strange living arrangement was becoming a bigger and bigger mystery. More pieces showing up and too many corner pieces to decipher the shape of it,

Was Zayne in a relationship with Xavier? Or were they just friends? It wasn’t out of the question for Zayne to swing that way, and you weren’t going to judge him for it. 

You supposed it was the mystery of it that bothered you the most. What was the deal here? 

Rafayel woke up a bit before noon, and you heard him scuffle about above your head while you finished the living room. Fluffing the pillows on the couch and folding the throw blankets.

The artist dragged himself downstairs, yawning and wilting. You watched him mild amusement at his theatrics, as he walked to the kitchen and laid his head on the counter.

“Hungry….” He whined softly more so to himself than to you.

You couldn’t help but sigh and take pity on the man, “I made French toast for breakfast.” You tell him as you finish folding the last blanket and place it into one of the compartments in the coffee table. “But you missed it.”

He responds with a groan, muffled into the countertop. 

The living room and dining room were done. After some exploring you had found the trash chute in the pantry and had been able to dispose of the boys’ collection of take out containers. The stale smell was gone and replaced with the lemony scent of wood cleaner and the sharper ting of window cleaner. 

You pick up your remaining cleaning supplies and turn to return them to the closet, but instead find yourself facing a wall. The ‘wall’ being a moody artist with his attention on his phone but his body too close to yours.

You jump and step back, a harsh comment at the tip of your tongue but Rafayel’s voice stops you, “Do you have a coat?”

The quip you had loaded disappeared and you scowled in confusion, “A coat?”

“Yeah, a coat. You know, a outerwear garment that keeps you warm–”

“I know what a coat is.” You hiss, “It’s upstairs, why?”

“Go get it.” Rafayel orders, looking at you and tilting his head, “I wanna get some lunch but I’m not going alone.”

“And you want me to go with you?” You hear the incredulity in your voice and know you must be looking at him like he’s insane. 

Either he’s oblivious to your stare or he doesn’t care because he nods, “I’m a public figure. I need a cover if I go out. So~” He sing-songs, motioning to you, “Go get your coat. I’ll pay, don’t worry.”

Your shoulders sag, “You need someone to go with you? Are you five?”

“No. I just know there’s no food in this house and I want to eat something yummy.” Rafayel slides his phone into his pants’ pocket and places his nimbl;e hands on his hips, “No, go. Or I’ll fire you.”

You can’t help the disbelieving gasp that escapes you, “Are you serious? You’ll fire me if I don’t go to lunch with you?”

“Yup.” Rafayel’s lips pop on the last p, and while his eyes swim with amusement you know he’s not joking. You have a sneaky suspicion that the quick turnover of housekeepers might be Rafayel’s doing. 

A heavy sigh escapes you and you give in. “Fine. Give me five minutes to put this away.”

“I’m hungry. You get two.”

If this were a different situation, you think you’d clock him. Send one good jab to his gut and knock the wind right out of his billowing, cocky sails. 

Free lunch did sound good, and surely you were allowed a break during work, right? God only knows the real reason why Rafaeyl wants you to come with him, because you're certain he’s not being honest.  

You fiddle with your hair for a moment in your bathroom mirror and spritz a little perfume to hopefully hide the cleaner smell. You don your coat as you scale the steps back to the main floor and find Rafayel waiting at the elevator in a knee-length overcoat with a cherry red scarf neatly tucked into it. His hands are covered in cozy wool gloves, and he wiggles his fingers at you in a wave when he sees you approach. 

You smile at him, the boyish look on his face hard to resist. However, his smile fades.

“Where’s your gloves? And scarf?” His tone is harsh– harsher than it should be for a simple lack of winter accessories. 

You glance down at yourself and your coat, “I don’t have any right now. They must all be in storage.”

Rafayel huffs, “How are you supposed to protect me if you can’t even take care of yourself?”

He turns over to the sideboard near the elevator and opens some of the drawers with a stern expression on his face. He pulls out a long cream colored scarf and some charcoal gloves.

“Okay, ouch.” You wince, “But is that what this is? You’re bringing me to protect you?”

“It doesn’t match,” Rafayel notes as he wraps the scarf around your neck and tucks it up to cover your chin, “And the gloves probably won’t fit, but you won’t lose fingers at least.”

“Are we hiking in the snow?” You joke as you slide the gloves on. They’re a little roomy, but worn enough they’re perfectly soft. “I’ll be fine.”

Rafayel just hums to disagree. “We’ll take my car. It’s not far.”

Alright, so not answering your questions then. Rafayel punches the button for the elevator and enters it, raising his brow at you to beckon you to follow him. You sigh and follow him, wondering if this is some game he plays with all the housekeepers, or if there is something particularly fun about tormenting you.

Rafayel’s car is a deep silver two seater with deep red and black interior. It’s more compact and sleek than Zayne’s more broad and cozy sedan. Rafayel grips the wheel like one grips the reins of a horse and he drives like it too. 

Once you arrive at the secondary location, you pull out your phone to text Zayne. A quick little heads up that ‘Hey, one of your weird roommates has brought me somewhere. If I don’t return, you know who did it.’ 

Rafayel keeps his head low as you scurry through the parking garage and down the street of the bustling city center. Wherever he’s leading you, he seems truly concerned that someone might recognize him. 

He ducks into a little cafe nestled between two larger businesses, and you follow behind him. 

Shaking the flurries from his hair, he sighs in relief. Like making it from the car to here without something happening was like dodging a bullet. 

“Are you a celebrity or something?” You blurt, as a hostess and finds you a seat. Rafayel doesn’t reply, too busy rejecting the first and second table the hostess offers before finally accepting a spot near the back near a window.

Rafayel sits across from you and settles in his seat, taking off his scarf and gloves. You mimic and set the garb aside, a small pile on the windowsill. 

“I’ll order for you.” Rafayel says before you can even look at the menu.

“Really?” You reply, a touch disappointed. You’re not necessarily picky, but letting a stranger order for you could end in disaster.

“I’m very good at predicting these things.” Rafayel assures as he glances at the menu before tossing it aside, “Like how I know you’re not really a housekeeper.”

His jab doesn’t land the way he intends, as you only roll your eyes, “Pretty sure I am. Signed a contract and everything.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Rafayel says with a wave of his hand, “I mean you’re not a housekeeper by trade. What did you do before this?”

That lands a little closer to its mark, and it takes you a second to find the words. “I was a Hunter. I am a Hunter. I’m just…exploring other options.”

“Uh-huh…” Rafayel drawls looking unconvinced. “I knew you must be something combative. Just the way you hold yourself– housekeepers don’t do that.”

You narrow your eyes, “What does that mean?”

The waitress comes over and pours some water into the stemmed glasses in front of you. Rafayel waves her off when she tries to take a drink order, and you hear her scoff of irritation when she walks away.

“It means you stand like you’re ready to jump at a moment’s notice. Or like something might jump you.” Rafayel sips at his water and then motions with his head to yours– silently telling you to drink.

You do, but only so you don’t argue reflexively to his statement. “You’re generalizing people too much. Housekeepers need to be on their toes too.”

“Yeah, sure, but you’re not really a housekeeper.”

You sigh, “If you have such a problem with it, then I’ll stay away from you. I made a deal with Zayne, that doesn’t need to affect you.”

“Hey, come on cutie, I’m just trying to get to know you.” Rafayel sits up a bit straighter, “How does a hunter become a housekeeper?”

The perpetual lump in your throat that’s lived there for months returns, and you have to look away. Look at the softly drifting flurries as they scatter among the manicured trees along the street, and sparkle between pedestrians. Winter is so beautiful in Linkon, but all you feel is the cold. 

“I don’t–” You’re not sure where that sentence was going to take you, but the waitress gratefully returns and asks about your order. 

Rafayel huffs like a diva being asked for an autograph and curtly tells the poor woman an order. She doesn’t linger– quickly jotting it down and walking away.

For some reason, Rafayel doesn’t press about his unanswered question and instead leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, “I named that color, by the way.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask a little hoarsely, quickly taking another sip of water.

Rafayel’s eyes watch you closely, and you wonder if there’s something on your face. His multi-colored eyes follow the line of your throat as you swallow and the movement of your fingers as you set the glass down, “Yeah, I named it bond.” 

You’re only gone from the house for a little over an hour, but you already feel guilty for slacking. Rafayel relinquishes you back to work as he retreats to his studio– mentioning something about inspiration from the cafe. 

Rafayel is confusing. One moment you’re sure he’s finding a reason to fire you, and the next you think he might be trying to befriend you. Maybe both? Probably neither. 

You decide to head to the gym and get started there while your mind wanders. If it were nicer, you’d open a window but the snow is picking up again and you’re not fond of frostbite.

As you pick up the discarded towels that reek of sweat and musk, you come to the conclusion that Rafayel is a classic eccentric. He probably doesn’t have a goal at all, only following the whims of whatever desire strikes him at the moment. He had wanted to eat, and he didn’t want to go alone– you were there. That was that. 

There wasn’t any use in thinking about it further. 

Tomorrow is Friday, which means you have another day to get through before shopping on Saturday, but maybe you can talk to Zayne about going early? Or maybe you could order some groceries ?

By the time five o-clock rolls around, the gym is in much better shape. The equipment has been wiped down and sanitised. The floor swept and mopped, and even the free weights were put back where they belong. 

You find yourself eager to see Zayne. It’s such an odd sensation, this little fluttering of excitement that’s only riled up further when you recall his little slip this morning. 

Before, you’d see Zayne once a week– if you were lucky? He was busy and you were busy and so it was rare that the both of you had the spare time to find one another. Now? Now, there weren’t plans to be scheduled and agendas to be juggled, he could just come home and you would be here. 

It tickled something deep and domestic in your tummy. You were one step away from a rom-com, but that train of thought had to be quickly pushed away. Entertaining outlandish fantasies of “Honey, I’m home!” and welcome-back-kisses would only drive you further into insanity. 

You retreated to your room to clean up and change before anyone else got home. You knew you smelled at this point, disinfectant clinging to your sleeves and your knees damp from kneeling on the wet gym floor. 

The bathtub still called out to you, but you ignored it. Sunday. Sunday you would spend at least four hours in that bathtub. 

Once clean you went back downstairs and found Rafayel laying on the couch, tapping on his phone while Zayne stood in the kitchen. He had brought more food again, which was a relief. The containers were bigger and smelled like garlic and oregano– Italian? You wondered if they had a schedule. Thai one night. Italian the next.

“Welcome home.” You call, pulling Zayne’s attention from where he was unpacking the bags. He smiled softly, his eyes almost imperceptibly creasing.

“What about me?” Rafayel said from the couch, “Don’t I get a welcome home?”

You can’t help but laugh, “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t deserve one.” Rafayel is downright pouting now and in favor of avoiding a further headache you walk over to him.

“Welcome home.” You say thick with sarcasm, but he smiles smugly anyway. 

“I couldn’t remember what you favored,” Zayne tells you as you enter the kitchen, “I hope bolognese is alright?”

You nod, “Of course. Thanks for thinking of me. I really appreciate you feeding me too.”

Zayne shakes his head like you’re silly for even saying that, but he doesn’t outright argue with you. 

“Oh, I was going to ask,” You say as you remember, “Where is the laundry room? I haven’t found it and the towels are piling up. “

“It’s downstairs,” Rafayel says loudly before Zayne can answer. 

“It’s near the elevators,” Zayne says, “I’ll show you after we eat.”

You nod and sit down, digging into your food and pleased when Zayne sits beside you again.

After a moment, Rafayel joins you, sitting on your opposite side, and starting up a conversation about how aggravating it is when his manager orders him the wrong mixing mediums. 

You finish eating, and retreat to the couch deciding to linger a bit longer than you did yesterday. After spending the beginning of the day cleaning it, it feels only right that you enjoy the clean living room now. 

Zayne finishes his meal and hangs his coat up near the door. You’re nearly asleep on the couch when he comes up behind you, cold fingertips against your shoulder, “Let me show you the laundry.”

You perk up, “Right! Show the way.”

Zayne grins and motions with his head, leading you back to the elevators and down to the bottom floor. The floor with the sex dungeon and the storage.

It’s a door tucked away right next to the elevators, and you kick yourself for not noticing it before. It’s a decent sized laundry, with a large washer and dryer and plenty of counter space for folding. There’s a stack of used baskets on one side, and three filled baskets of awaiting laundry on the other. 

Zayne closes the door behind you as you exit and you peer down the hall towards that room.

“Hey Zayne?”

“Hm?” He hums, low and almost sleepy. 

Even though there’s no one here, you still cup your hand to speak behind it, “Why do you have a….sex room?”

Zayne’s head jerks back from where he’d leaned forward to listen to you whisper, and you watch as red rises to his cheekbones and ears. “W-what?”

“You have a sex dungeon!” You tease him more, keeping your voice at a whisper but relishing in the startled beet he was turning into.

Zayne glances up, looking down the hallway and then back to you, “T-that’s not– I mean.” He practically pants, “That is Sylus’ room. Not a– a sex dungeon.”

“Oh?” You press, not really believing him, “Then why were there whips on the wall?”

Zayne’s fully red at this point, but that’s all that gives away his flustered state. He places a hand to your mid back– not pushing but guiding you down the hall and to the bedroom. 

He opens the door and lets it swing open, “There are no whips on the wall.”

You giggle and turn, examining the darkened bedroom and its very sex-dungeony vibes. The red velvet and overstuffed leather furniture. The dim lighting and four poster bed still aren’t convincing you that this isn’t a sex-dungeon. 

You point to the other wall where five long handled weapons were displayed, “Look! See? Whips.”

“Those are ceremonial weapons from a tribe in northern africa.” A darkened voice coos from behind you, “The whips are elsewhere.”

You turn and freeze. The silver-haired man hovering just behind you and Zayne. He’s not much taller than Zayne, but there’s something in his gaze that’s so very predatory that you can’t help but shiver. 

“Welcome back.” Zayne greets, bypassing the comment his roommate had made. “She believed your room to be some kind of fornication den–”

“Sex-dungeon.” You blurt.

Zayne’s eyes find yours and you feel even more like a butterfly pinned to a board. Had he ever been that piercing? That utterly provocative? You’d only been joking– sort of– but you felt like you tipped the first tile into a domino effect. 

A pair of hungry wolves crowding into your space, leaving you nothing but a fragile, bleating lamb.

“How presumptuous,” Sylus drawls, mirth laced in his voice like a drug in wine. 

“I’m sorry,” You say lamely, caught in the headlights of their eyes and unable to move. 

The hand Zayne had placed on your back moves, trailing upward to linger in between your shoulder blades. You notice Zayne’s expression turn away from you to Sylus, the playfulness fading into something unknown. Something guarded.

“It’s late.” Zayne remarks, his guiding hand drawing you closer to him and away from the doorway. You step away from the darkened bedroom and find a spot next to Zayne at a respectable distance– too much closer and you’re sure he’ll hear your hammering heartbeat. 

Sylus chuckles, something low and rumbling as he watches the two of you. “So, I take it you don’t want to come inside?”

“She’s tired.” Zayne replies for you, and you're so stunned by the iciness in his voice that you let him. 

“Some other time then.” Sylus replies, adjusting the coat on his shoulder and stepping into the room.

Sylus closes the door behind him, and you’re led– a little starry-eyed — back upstairs. Zayne makes sure you go all the way up to your bedroom, not pausing even for a moment when you spy Xavier in the kitchen, the microwave running and the sharp tang of something burning in the air. 

Once at your door, Zayne stops and you turn to him.

“If any of them bother you,” He begins, voice soft.

“They’re alright.” You say quickly, holding your hands out, “Sylus is a little scary and I think Rafayel might hate me, but it’s not bad. I’m not bothered.”

“Don’t let them push you around.” Zayne’s voice drops a little lower, “I brought you here. It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Zayne..” You can’t help but whisper his name, unsure of why that sentence has struck you so severely. 

This was supposed to be a temporary fix. A few weeks until the colder months passed and you could convince Jenna to let you come back. You felt bad for pressuring Zayne into this, but he was taking it so seriously.

But that was just how he was, wasn't it? Zayne wasn’t known for taking things lightly or letting things slide. Perhaps he felt obligated as not only your friend, but your doctor to care for you. It made you feel shameful and opportunistic. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“I appreciate everything you do for me.” You reply to him, “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position.”

Zayne shifts until you're pressed against your closed bedroom door and he’s crowding you there, “You wouldn’t let me do anything else.”

Though you can feel his body heat, you feel more at ease seeing his faint smile, “No, I didn’t. But you can still end this, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Zayne seems to debate his answer for a moment and very lightly he brings up his hands to brush the backs of his fingers over your jaw, “No. It doesn’t. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

This cannot be good for your heart– is what you almost reply. His hands are always cold. Shimmery with his Evol that remains at the forefront almost all the time. This close to your face, you can almost feel the brisk air of it– the threat of frost like standing in front of an open freezer. 

But his cold fingers ignite like flint against steel. Sparks flying against long-awaiting kindling and you’re a helpless fool eager for it to burn. A rational part of you tries to talk some sense into the rest of you. He’s just a friend. Just a good man looking out for you. It doesn’t mean what you think it means. 

But oh, what if it did?

Zayne bids you goodnight, and you feel wound too tight to reply. Retreating into your bedroom with a knot in your belly and drumbeat between your legs that goes in time with your hammering heartbeat. 

The lock on the door can hardly get switched fast enough and you're stripping off your clothes for bed and tossing them to the ground. The cool air of the room eases the fire under your skin, reminding you of the contrast more than soothing it. 

It’s just been a long time. You try to reason with yourself as you go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. You aren’t some lascivious virgin turned on by a brush on the cheek!

But god, you might be?

A knock on the door comes only ten minutes after you and Zayne left, and Sylus assumes that the curious little cat had returned. 

He’d already changed out of his outerwear and into something more comfortable, but for the sake of your red-face and hammering heart, he puts on a sweater before answering the door. 

Only, you’re not there. No sight of your flustered face and the sound of your heartbeat he could tap along to. Disappointed, and visibly so, Sylus leans against the doorframe and frowns at the other blond that stands there. 

“Can I help you?” Sylus asks with a single raised brow. 

They’ve overcome the majority of their differences, but he and Xavier aren’t the closest. For the most part, Xavier just avoids him– only seeking him out when matters that only he would know about come up.

“Have you met the housekeeper?” Xavier asks, his airy voice sharp and low. He looks downright grumpy, which is odd considering you’re nothing but a ray of sunshine. 

“I have.” Sylus replies, standing up and crossing his arms, “Why? Not to your liking?”

Xavier levels him with an icy stare, edging into the ire and hatred he used to stare at him with not very long ago. The blond man’s jaw is tense and his voice is quiet like he’s worried someone might hear, “She looks familiar.”

Ah, so that’s it. Sylus thinks.The disappointment on his face dissolved, to be replaced with amusement. Xavier was unsettled by your uncanny appearance, and maybe even connected some dots? 

“She does? How so?” Sylus says instead of being upfront. It’s clearly taken some courage for the previous prince of Philos to come to him, but Sylus isn’t keen to bend to his whims so easily. 

Nothing has been confirmed. No suspicions made clear, but Sylus knows what Xavier means. Unlike the others, only Sylus and Rafayel have the senses to know for certain. Rafayel’s sense of smell is better than his, but Sylus beats him in other ways. 

Zayne, the poor bastard, is probably completely oblivious. Blindly following some gut instinct he doesn’t understand. 

“Don’t play games,” Xavier hisses, “Have you noticed it or not?” 

Sylus blinks, suddenly seeing the truth in Xavier’s eyes. The thinly veiled desperation he was trying to hide behind anger. Confusion for what he felt to be true, but wanted to deny.

“It could be a coincidence.” Sylus says, offering an out in pity for the prince. They’ve all been torn up, chewed up, and spit out in one way or another– all for love. Xavier’s been alive a long time, and sometimes Sylus forgets that. “She looks like a lot of people. If it makes you feel better, I could have Mephisto run a facial recognition search?”

Xavier deflates, turning on his heel to face back down the hall. “No. No. I– I’m just seeing things. Things that don’t exist.”

Sylus hummed, head cocking to the side, “We don’t know for certain she doesn’t exist–”

“We know.” Xavier’s voice is deadly. “We agreed that we wouldn’t search for her. We would attract attention by seeking her out. Especially since she doesn’t exist here.” 

The words are harsh, but they’re not for Sylus. He knows that Xavier’s trying to convince himself. Remind himself of a mantra that’s gotten him this far. Held him upright when the ache in his chest got too much. 

“It’s late for you.” Sylus says a bit kinder now. “Go to bed. Don’t worry about such things.”

“If you notice something,” Xavier bites out, “You’ll tell me.”

Sylus debates that for a moment. “Sure.” He decides to allow it, if it gets a grumpy Xavier out of his face, and soothes the disgruntled prince, why not?

[jungmeowz]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈ secret letters to you - OT7

001; Kim Sunoo the Childhood Best Friend

synops: seven boys who have all had a crush on you, and mayhaps one or two of them are still in love with you, and who knows? But at one point all of them liked you, just in different timelines. sum: seven anonymous letters arrived at your mailbox with seven different boys names, but there's ONE secret confession letter that's fresh and newly written. Who wrote the letter?

genre: fluff, angst(?)

pairing: ot7 x reader

inspo: lowkey based on en-drama and to all the boys i've loved before

word count: 3.5k+ (not proof-read)

a/n: im sorry for the delay... i've been super busy and just trying to get my life together (its not going so well so yeah...)

I’ve known Sunoo ever since we were kids, so I guess maybe it can rule out at least one of the letters but still? My childhood best friend liking me? I mean it’s like a typical cliche but still… but it was still a shocker to me. So out of these eight letters, you’re telling me one of them is written by Sunoo, my childhood best friend.

Sunoo and I have been through everything together, we have shared and created so many memories together, from our first time trying ice cream to our first time underestimating high school. He’s seen me at my worst and at my best, but I've also seen him at his worst and best. We’ve seen each other's weaknesses and strongest perks, but after all that’s what makes us best friends. But I’ve never once thought of him that way, and I’ve never exactly developed romantic feelings for him either. So now that I’m aware of his feelings, I essentially feel bad for never being able to return his feelings, or ever consider those romantic feelings.

“So Kim Sunoo… isn’t he like your childhood best friend?” Aerai questioned. “You know, it’s no surprise if he liked you, I mean it's a typical cliche,” my brother noted. “Yeah perhaps, but the real question is, does he still like me?” I wondered. “I mean if he did, how would you feel about it?” Aerai asked. “Well, I don’t know. I mean I’ve never looked at him that way, nor have I ever developed romantic feelings for him, but even thinking about him like that, it’s a bit weird to me,” I answered.

After answering Aerai’s question, I started to think more about Sunoo and how things would change if we did date, or if I developed romantic feelings for him, and well after briefly thinking about the situation, it still seemed weird to me, and I don’t know how I would feel about the transition of a best friend to a boyfriend, but maybe I’m also scared of jeopardizing our friendship if we ever did cross that line. But he wasn’t the only one that liked me, so either way things would still be complicated as ever. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you don’t like him, because if you’re saying it’s weird and you’ve never thought about it, there’s probably no feelings,” Aerai said. “Okay, well let’s try to figure out which letter he wrote,” I said. “And if we do, how will we confirm it’s him?” Aerai asked. “Well, there’s only one way and that’s asking him, or maybe trying to make moves on him and see,” my brother answered. “First off, no. I’m not gonna make moves on my best friend because that’s weird, and what if he doesn’t even like me anymore… Majority of these confessions seem like past tense and they’re dated kinda far back,” I replied.

After finishing replying to my brother's comment, I looked at him and he shrugged in his defense and put his hands up as a surrender not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “It’s a suggestion, you didn’t need to take it personally,” my brother said. “Well okay, let’s take a look at the letters,” Aerai said. “Well maybe it could be May 23rd 2021, it mentions the word “kids” so maybe it could be Sunoo?” I questioned. “Well what about the one that's dated in 2020? I feel like maybe the older the year is, maybe it could be him?” Aerai replied. “You make a fair point, and I thought about it, but that letter says ‘sidelines’, so I’m wondering if maybe that one could be Heeseung? I mean like, I’m always cheering for Heeseung on the sidelines when he’s playing basketball? So that could be it?” I wondered. “But that doesn’t make any sense, didn’t you meet Heeseung in like 2022” Aerai asked. “Shit you’re right, that’s also roughly the time I met the other guys as well,” I replied. 

Honestly there were so many things I needed to consider about these letters, but my brain had no capacity to understand and comprehend these letters as these dates were throwing me off. It didn’t help that my memory isn’t the best either. I felt like every time I kept reading these letters I ended up being more confused and lost. 

“Well, I definitely don’t think it’s one of the most recent dated letters…“ Aerai trailed off. “Yeah, I agree. I don’t think the recently dated letters would be Sunoo’s,” I replied. “Okay, so then let's just assume it’s either the oldest dated letter, or the letter that mentions ‘kids’,” Aerai said. “Well one of them says they would rather stay friends, and then the other one is expecting me to feel the same way,” I said. 

After making that comment, the thought didn’t occur to me that maybe potentially one of the boys could still like me, and I would need to face that later on. It doesn’t help that I’m no good at responding to people's feelings either. “Wait, do you by any chance like someone at the moment?” My brother asked. My face turned red when the thought of Heeseung appeared in my mind, and then I immediately brushed it off. “No, it’s not like that really,” I quietly said. “You’re lying, you’re just like me! Your ears get red when you get embarrassed or shy,” My brother laughed. “Wait, you’re telling me this whole time you liked someone and you didn’t even tell me?” Aerai frowned. “It’s not that big of a deal, don’t worry about it,” I replied. “Well then, if it’s not a big deal then tell me who it is,” Aerai smirked as she crossed her arms. “It’s Hee..Heeseung,” I stuttered. “I knew it! You’re always going to his basketball games, I thought it was because of Jongseong or Riki, but no, it’s because of Heeseung,” Aerai smiled. “Shut up,” I blushed. “Poor Yunnie, you always dragged him to these basketball games even though he would much rather stay at home and build legos” Aerai snickered. “What? He was always eager to come with me though,” I said. “Yeah, and it’s probably because he gets to spend more time with you,” My brother snickered. 

My best friend and brother weren’t wrong, but the thought never occurred to me that Jaeyun would want to only come just to spend time with me. I sincerely thought he wanted to go these games because he wanted too and support his friends, but after receiving the confession letters and coming to the conclusion all of them liked me at one point, it would make sense why Jaeyun would come with me to these basketball games and give up some nights to build legos just to accompany me on the bleachers to support the team. 

“That’s not the point, we’re here to identify which letter Sunoo wrote!” I exclaimed. “Well we have a movie night hangout tonight at Sunoo’s. Maybe you should head over there early and talk to him privately,” Aerai suggested. I groaned and put my hands on my cheek in distress, “Ugh, what am I suppose to say? Uhm hey which letter did you write?”I panicked. “You can, or you can snoop around his room and try to find something. The letters seemed typed out, so obviously there’s probably a written letter or diary!” Aerai said. “So invasion of privacy…” I whispered. “Okay, let’s not do that. If I was a guy, I wouldn't like it if my crush was snooping around my room to find my confession letter. Just be bold and ask him, but don’t expect him to be honest with you,” My brother said. I darted my eyes at my brother and heavily sighed, he looked at me and shrugged. I rolled my eyes at him. “Did anyone ever tell you how unhelpful you are?” I commented. “Yeah.. you’re not really helping your sister right now. Well, I have to head home and get ready for the movie night. You should head over there early and maybe talk to Sunoo about it,” Aerai suggested. “I could… and I know I should. I just don’t know how to bring it up still,” I sighed. 

Aerai got up from the couch and put her hand on my shoulder and then patted it as an attempt to give me reassurance of the whole situation. She gave me a warm smile and then waved off and left the house. I slumped back onto the couch in defeat, frowning at the situation. My brother looked at me and then decided to plop down next to me. “So Heeseung huh,” he said as he nudged my shoulder. “Don’t even, that's the least of my concerns right now. I don’t even care if Heeseung  likes me back, or used to like me. It’s not going to happen,” I replied. “Since when did you even start liking him,” he asked. “Since the day we met, I mean have you looked at him… he’s just so cute, but when he steps onto the court he’s like the coolest guy ever,” I said. “So you’re telling me you’ve only liked Heeseung out of everyone from that group?” he questioned..

For a moment, I sat there wondering if I should confess to my brother about my feelings and thoughts about the boys. Besides Lee Heeseung, there was also another guy I had feelings for, Sim Jaeyun, the next door neighbor. At one point I really did like him, I liked him for quite a while, but I told myself to give up on liking him just because I never thought he would feel the same way. He seemed like the type who wasn’t interested in dating or relationships. He never mentioned having crushes or liking anyone, he always minded his own business focusing on school, and building legos, but to know in the end he did like me, I couldn’t help but think how things would’ve turned out if we knew we both liked each other at one point and maybe confess. 

“Well… I mean Jaeyun… But I don’t anymore. I gave up years ago, it seems like he was never interested in love and such,” I trailed off. “Oh, so you liked the golden retriever boy,” my brother said. “I mean not anymore, he’s cute and adorable when he builds he’s super focused on building his legos, and he’s always been there for me, but there’s no way he feels the same way about me now. I think one of the letters from him is probably the letter that he wishes to just be friends,” I shrugged. “And what if it’s not? What will you do?” he asked. “I don’t know, re-think about it?” I replied. “So just Heeseung and Jaeyun?” he hummed. “I mean liking Sunghoon would be weird, that’s like your best friend, and that would just kinda be a sin in my book and maybe in your book, liking Jongseong is no question asked because that's your roommate, and Jungwon and Riki are like my bro’s. I can’t look at them like that, and well Sunoo.. we’re just best friends and I would like to keep it like that,” I answered. “I mean I don’t mind Sunghoon liking you, it’s his life. I shouldn’t stop him from liking someone and stop him from how he feels, like it or not, emotions are hard to deal with, and forcing someone not to like someone isn’t right either,” he replies. “Well it doesn’t matter. I still think it’s weird. Besides, Sunghoon is such a huge flirt, I could never, we’re like total opposites,” I shrugged. “Hey, you never know, opposites attract sometimes,” he joked. 

I looked at my brother and rolled my eyes at him, I proceeded to get up and drag myself off the couch and walk towards my room and plopped down onto my bed. I pulled out the letters again and decided to re-read them again, and after re-reading them multiple times, I threw the letters aside and screamed into my pillow with frustration. It’s not like I was expecting any of them to like me to be honest, because literally why would anyone like me? I’m a hot mess, but that’s just me. 

After screaming and laying in bed staring off into space looking at my ceiling, I looked at the time and realized it was almost time to head over to Sunoo’s house for movie night. I braced myself and decided it was time to get ready, as I slipped on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, I grabbed the letters and shoved them into my bag and left the house and headed over to Sunoo’s house.  

It didn't take long to head over to Sunoo’s house. I knocked on his door and he opened it and smiled at me and gave me a hug. There was a part of me that felt weirded out hugging him, just because of those confession letters I read, but I tried to brush it off and proceeded to hug him back. As he let me in, he greeted me and told me to head upstairs first as he still needed to finish some things up.

I nodded and headed over into his room, as I walked towards his bed and sat down, I took a look around his room and couldn’t help but let Aerai’s suggestion get to me. Should I look around or is this an invasion of privacy? But at this point curiosity got the better of me and I decided to snoop around his desk looking for papers or anything that could be letter related. 

Eventually after a couple minutes of rummaging, I got distracted and didn’t realize Sunoo had entered his room. I felt my body freeze as I could feel him staring at me, I was caught red-handed. “What are you doing?” Sunoo asked. “Nothing, I just thought your desk needed some cleaning, jeez Sunoo. Keep your desk clean,” I lied. “My desk is clean, what were you doing snooping around?” he asked. “I can explain?” I answered in surrender. “I’m not mad, it just seems unlike you,” he said. 

My hands were shaking, it was nice to know that Sunoo wasn’t mad that I had just lied to him while snooping around his room. My mind went blank and I didn’t know how to respond to him. There were two options, it was either to tell the truth or continue to lie to him, but with barely time to think and the extended awkward silence forming, I shut my eyes and trusted my gut, and blurted out everything from the top of my head. 

“Sunoo, did you ever like me? I got home today. These eight confession letters were handed to me from my brother and they’re all dated differently and I don’t know… One of these letters seemed like it was written from you but then again I don’t know, because I only talk to you and the other boys, so then it makes sense, but then again who would like me I don’t know what I'm saying. I just, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snoop around I just really wanted to confirm it, and I didn’t know how and I wasn’t going to ask you because I was scared you were going to lie but now that my mind is blank, and I’m out here babbling like a complete mess, I feel like I just messed things up,” I ranted. “Okay, first of all, breathe, and calm down, I’m not mad. Please one thing at a time, because you literally talked so fast that I lost track of what you said,” Sunoo replied. I hesitated for a second, but there was no point going back because if I asked once already, I might as well ask again and repeat myself. “Did you ever write a confession letter to me?” I asked. “...What makes you say that?” he answered. “Because of this,” I replied as I pulled out the letters out of my bag. 

Sunoo took the letters out of my hand and read the letters and his eyes widened as his face and ears turned super red and then he looked at me. “Where did you find this?” he asked. “My brother told me it was mailed to me?” I answered. “Who on earth would mail this to you?” he said. “I don’t know! But that’s not the point right now. Did you or did you not like me, and did you write one of these letters,” I asked. “Okay fine. At one point I did like you, but that was years ago! I don’t like you anymore, and yes I did write a confession letter, but this was suppose to be a secret. It was never meant to be leaked or anything. I don’t know who the hell leaked my letter, but I don’t like you like that anymore. I look at you as my best friend, and I hope you’re not weirded out or have feelings for me because I’m sorry..” he panicked. “Which one did you write…?” I trailed off. “I wrote the October 13th 2020,” he confessed. “I’m sorry I never noticed your feelings Sunoo,” I apologized. “Please don’t be. It was a long time ago, and besides I’m over it and it was for the best anyways. Like the letter said, I'd rather keep this friendship than lose you,” he smiled. “I know but still. I feel like I still hurt you in some way,” I said. “It’s really okay y/n,” Sunoo smiled. 

I was really thankful to know that Sunoo didn’t have feelings for me anymore, because now that was one less thing to worry about. I still felt bad that he did like me years ago, but I’m glad that he’s over it. “It’s a relief you’re over me, because I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t,” I said. “Well that’s a relief then? Glad we’re on the same page,” he said. “So… Do you know by chance who wrote the other letters?” I asked. “It’s true that all of us liked you at one point, and we did keep it a secret, but we never showed each other our confession letters. So I’m not sure which letter belongs to who,” he answered. “And here I thought you could help me,” I frowned. “As much as I want to help, It’s not my job to reveal their feelings. This is something you’re going to have to solve on your own, as much as I love you, I can’t intervene in this because it’s not my feelings. I mean you figured out mine, but you should give the others a chance to speak like you’re doing with me,” he defended. “But I’m scared. There’s someone out there right now who still likes me currently, and I’m scared. What if I don’t like them back? What if it’s someone I hoped it would be, but isn’t?” I sighed. “I know, but whatever happens, it’s meant to happen. Just know that we all care about you,” Sunoo comforted. “Can I get a hint at least?” I asked. “Fine, someone who has the letter N in their name is still in love with you,” he answered. “Kim Sunoo, that is the most useless hint ever. All of their names have N, aside from Riki! But he even goes by Ni-Ki sometimes!” I whined. “Well you eliminated me! You asked for a hint, and I gave you one,” he laughed. “This is why I favor Aerai over you,” I joked. “How dare you, and here I thought I was being nice,” he gasped. “Yeah whatever,” I scoffed. “The utter disrespect,” he laughed.

A part of me was really curious in wanting to ask why Sunoo liked me, I mean it’s obvious that I lacked self-confidence considering the fact I just don’t understand who could like me, but after receiving confession letters, it definitely sparked my curiosity. “Quick question though.. Why did you like me? I mean it says in the letter but still?” I asked. “I mean listen, I liked you because you were always so forward about things, I mean yes, you were a bit strong headed and stubborn, and sometimes annoying and shy but it’s cute and that’s what I liked about you. I think you’re different from the other girls in a way, you’re very unique,” he answered honestly. 

After hearing Sunoo’s answer, I could feel my face turn sour, it was so weird to hear that come out of his mouth. I knew he was being honest with his feelings with me, but I don’t know, for some reason it just didn’t sound right to me. “I kinda just gagged, hearing my best friend talk about me and admiring me. That was kinda disgusting. Why did I even ask?” I joked. “You’re absolutely such a dork,” he rolled his eyes. “Yeah well you liked this dork at one point,” I retorted. “Yeah, not anymore because you’re such a prick,” he laughed. “Insults? Okay keep it coming, we’ll see who gets the last laugh,” I smiled. 

With that conversation out of the way, I felt relieved knowing Sunoo didn’t feel the same way anymore, but there was still an unheavy feeling because there were still seven letters to figure out with basically no clues. Which meant I still had no idea where to start, and Sunoo’s hint didn’t exactly help me either and so I was stuck at a dead end. I guess the next person I could go to is Sim Jaeyun, he’s the second longest person I’ve known, but the thought of confronting him about these letters was a bit scary considering at one point I did like him, but there was no going back after receiving these letters, I had to face it.

002; Sim Jaeyun - The Next Door Neighbor

from me to you; secret letters to you - masterlist

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

[the--highlanders]

what do you think jamie does after he's sent back to scotland without his memories?

i think he's always been torn between loving his home, the house he grew up in and the river he played in as a child and the hills he knows like the back of his hand, and yet still deeply longing to leave his little world behind, because he never quite fit right. (and he did! he got out!) but then suddenly he's right back there. he goes back to his childhood home but it's not home anymore and he doesn't know why.

so would he stay and try to fit again, even though he's grown out of his place there? or would he leave, and go looking for whatever had changed him?

YESSS I am so 100% on board with everything you said here. jamie really feels to me like he's someone who's so deeply rooted in his place and his culture, and yet someone who's been battling off this sense of isolation his whole life, and it's all tangled up and complicated inside him. in part he knows his home like the back of his hand /because/ he was somewhat isolated and spent a bunch of time wandering around on his own, and connects to his culture so much because he was chasing a sense of belonging. and on the other hand he had friends and was probably well-liked! but the isolation is still there. maybe even worse for the fact that he wasn't entirely alone.

I do think the crucial point to what jamie does when he's back in scotland is. why exactly he stepped on board the tardis in the first place. which is something I still don't feel like I've fully been able to express even after literal years of trying, maybe because it works best as an impulse borne of him having a deeply traumatic turned deeply strange day. I hc that while jamie's father, brother, and best friend have now died, his mother is still alive and at home, along with other relatives and much of the rest of his community. he /has somewhere to go back to/. he chooses not to go to france and to try his luck with making it home instead, and then all of a sudden he's stepping onto the tardis. sure, he's somewhat confused, and certainly doesn't know what's happening or that he won't be able to get back - but he does still go with them. in that moment, some part of him wanted /out/. going with people he knew to france didn't tempt him, but running off with basically total strangers did. he wanted an entirely fresh start, a blank slate.

on the flip side, the jamie who gets sent back after the war games is /different/, even subconsciously. somewhere buried in there is a person who's more mature, has had three more years of experience, has dealt with so much more and stepped up in ways he probably couldn't have dreamt of when he first left scotland. he's dropped back on drumossie moor, apparently in daylight, presumably with something implanted in his head telling him that the doctor and ben and polly left, he waved them off and turned towards home. so I think that's what he'd do - he'd go home, and try to pick up the pieces as best he could.

at this point, and as he realises more and more that something's /not right/ and he's missing something, I think his sense of isolation is worse than ever. he's so, so close to snapping. but his whole world is holding on by a thread, now - his own family has been decimated, many others are in the same position, they're close enough to culloden and inverness to be subject to a few reprisals and raids from the government - and oddly enough I think that holds him together. he steps up, because somewhere deep inside he knows how to do that now. he's grown up. maybe everyone else just puts it down to the war. it's not like they know any better. and if we know anything about jamie, it's that he can hold himself together if someone else needs him. is it good for him? certainly not. but he's hanging in there.

in my timeline for things he does settle down somewhat once he starts to regain his memories and understand what's happened to him. it /is/ just another thing that sets him apart, and that always hurts, but he's also more confident and understands more about himself than he did growing up, so it rattles him less. he's probably easy to talk to and go to with problems, and friendly enough that you never really realise he doesn't open up about himself. he grows into a bit of a leadership position in his village, and it's good for him, in a way. he's also his own person, not his father's son, and I think that's a sick sort of relief for him. marrying kirsty also helps, because she's a fellow misfit and a great friend, and someone who he can share the truth with. their 'more children than there are days of the week' are lost and orphaned kids they collect, because he's not going to let anyone else grow up alone. it's a weird sort of limbo where he's waiting for the doctor but also has no certainty that he'll ever see him again, where he's made a life he's proud of with people he loves and yet there's always parts of him that are desperately unhappy - but he's getting by. he's good. he's got good things that get him through.

if he /didn't/ get his memories back, though, if he was just caught in that confusion forever... that's where I could really see him leaving. at some point he /does/ snap, and he just. heads off on his own, looking for something he can't remember. it feels good, to always be on the road, maybe to help people where he can as he passes through. he's not tied to anyone, doesn't have to be who anyone else wants him to be, and there's freedom in that. but he always feels like he /shouldn't/ be alone in this, that he should be wandering with someone.

[yuripoll]

UNDERDOGS ROUND 1

[oworion]

 How do I get together with my childhood friend. By: Yasaka shuu

[yurioutofcontext]

How Do I Get Together With My Childhood Friend - Yasaka Shuu

[the-forest-whale]

Made my first manga AMV, its been a while since I did a video project, but my new computer makes all things possible >:3

[transanimegirl]