#i do truly love you felt like i was a good person to come to for this that is SO sweet

[euseokz]

☁️ !? . . ★ riize eunseok . ◌⃘ꔫ﹒we hug now — no one comes close to you, and i don’t think anyone will .

☆◞ cws : dacryphilia . unprotected sex . creampie . # ✩★ . . wc : 1.6k+ . ! ⌕﹒genre : angst + smut ✶. inspired by ‘we hug now’ by sydney rose

highschool sweetheart! eunseok who hasn’t left your mind since the day you broke up.

you were supposed to be each other’s forever. everyone expected that at least, that you’d be that one couple that stood together through it all, never breaking apart, never leaving one another.

unfortunately, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

at the first chance — college in another city being just that — eunseok left. he apologized, said he wanted to stay with you but that he couldn’t pass on such a great opportunity, so he left. left without you, leaving you behind almost as if it was nothing. he got everything he wanted, you supposed, you being the one left behind, stuck on someone who most likely didn’t think of you anymore.

eunseok moved on, but you couldn’t push yourself to, too hung up on the idea of him, on the oh so certain knowledge that no one would ever compare to him. maybe it was all a lie, maybe there were better options out there — but why would you go looking for them? you wanted eunseok, not someone else. it didn’t matter if they resembled him in any way, if they were a better choice than to stay put waiting for someone who wouldn’t come back, you simply couldn’t move on. it was like your world had ended and you were stuck in that moment even after all the years that had passed, stuck waiting and waiting for the boy you loved to turn around and tell you he’d obviously never leave you, that he couldn’t possibly do that. it wasn’t how things turned out, but maybe if you stood still enough time would go back and revert all the damage your heart had endured, right?

wrong. because even when, unexpectedly, you found yourself in eunseok’s arms again, it still hurt the same.

at that moment, it all seemed like it had gone by too fast. one second you were out alone, the next eunseok was before you, looking at you as if he had just struck gold — or maybe that was just your mind playing games with you, his gaze probably as monotone as ever. you remember you talked briefly, something about how he was working now, his job in the next town over so he had come back, living with his family temporarily before finding a place of his own. you remember telling him you were happy for him, even if in all truthfulness you didn’t mean it. you didn’t wish eunseok any harm, but also couldn’t find it in yourself to celebrate his personal achievements after the amount of pain he inflicted on you. it was good he had found his path, but did that have to cost everything you ever cared about? maybe you were being dramatic, most likely selfish too, but it was just how you felt, unable to forget that your first and only love left you without a second thought, without missing a beat, simply saying sorry and seemingly forgetting all you ever had.

you were weak tho, far too weak, especially when it came to the man stood in front of you, so when eunseok asked if you could catch up you replied with a small “yes”, even if with every story he told you as you sat on your living room’s couch, your heart seemed to tighten a bit, each tale leaving a new, fresh wound on you. he truly had moved on, you thought to yourself, so full of new stories to tell and experiences to share it made you feel jealous, because compared to him you were somehow still your small 18 year old self, hurt by how your boyfriend had just come up to your parents house and broke up with you, too shocked to cry but also not strong enough to stop the knot in your throat from making numb tears roll down your face. eunseok shattered you that night, and somehow, even after so long, you still hadn’t put all the pieces back together.

and it showed, because at the first chance, you fell back onto eunseok’s arms without thinking if that wouldn’t just make everything worse.

his lips felt warm against yours, as soft and comforting as you remembered, the way eunseok cupped your cheeks with his hands while you shared such a sweet kiss far too gentle coming from the person who broke you. maybe he didn’t realize it, realize just how much harm he had caused, and maybe that was okay, you tried to convince yourself, because if he was as willing to fix everything as he had just said he was, all of it might just have been worth it — every tear, every ache, every single thing that sent you down a spiralling hole of blaming yourself for something you hadn’t caused.

either way, none of it mattered in that moment, not when eunseok was kissing you so passionately, like he did truly miss you, miss the two of you, pulling you in like his grip on your body was just an extension of how much he had felt your absence in his life in the last few years. maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t, what mattered was that for once you didn’t care, only focusing on how his body felt glued to yours, how familiar his touch felt.

eunseok took you to your bedroom, navigating your small apartment as if it was his own — or perhaps yours to share — laying you on your cushioned mattress cautiously, eyes flickering through your body for a second as you laid there for him, before getting on top of you, knees bent on either side of your own as he leaned down for another kiss, a small peck, so short and yet so full of desire.

that oh so familiar knot in your throat started to tighten, just as eunseok’s lips drifted elsewhere, now pressing against your cheek, going lower, down the side of your neck and then right over when you felt the tension of bubbling tears build — a gentle kiss all it took for one to drip down the side of your face. eunseok didn’t notice it at first, but once he saw the single salty droplet leave a watery trail through your skin, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, a stroke of worry glazing through his expression before it went back to how it was before — soft, gentle, and yet so full of lust.

“it’s okay angel, i’m here now” he whispered, his thumb wiping away the lonely tear before more came pouring down slowly, as if they were taking their time. “i’m here now” eunseok repeated, his tone even gentler this time “i won’t leave again” and he seemed to mean it, and you allowed yourself to believe he did, because why wouldn’t he? why would the boy who once loved you so much go through all of this just to hurt you again? it wouldn’t make sense, would it? so you allowed it, allowed eunseok to undress both of you, each article of clothing that came off accompanied by a swift kiss that swept away a single tear. nothing was rushed, everything coming in it’s own time, the pace languid and yet, it couldn’t be more perfect.

you allowed eunseok to lead, letting him push you further up the bed so your head rested on your pillows, their plush material eventually sucking up any stray tear that eunseok’s lips didn’t catch.

the first time he pushed into you after so long felt heavenly. he fit inside you perfectly, your walls hugging his girth as if you two were pieces of a puzzle meant to be put together. “god…” eunseok muttered under his breath after bottoming out inside you, eyes closing for a moment before focusing on yours again, his brows furrowing ever so slightly once more at the tears slowly streaming down your face. “i missed you so much… so, so much” he whispered, his hands once more moving to cup your cheeks, his thumbs washing away the small droplets, his cock twitching inside you at the sight of them.

eunseok started moving his hips, pulling them away then pushing them against yours, each stroke at the perfect speed to not be too rapid and still hit that sweet spot inside you just hard enough to feel good. he kissed your face, your neck — any part of you he could reach, cleaning your tears with sweet pecks, grunting at how tight your cunt felt around his cock, how your walls trembled around him in pleasure, sucking him in so well, the salty flavor against his lips only adding to it. you moaned softly, almost shyly, your nails digging into eunseok’s naked shoulders, your eyes closed as you focused solely on every sensation flowing through your body, afraid of not taking it in enough, afraid this once would truly be the last time.

maybe it should be, maybe you should just move on and take this as your chance of getting the closure you had desperately seeked for years — but how could you? how could you when eunseok was on top of you, touching and kissing you as if you were the most precious and delicate thing ever, fucking you like he used to, each stroke full of love. this wouldn’t give you any closure, it would only make you miss eunseok more, maybe even resent him more, so as he delivered his last strokes, his seed filling you up perfectly, you held onto him tightly, whispering a small “please don’t leave again”. it probably made you look ridiculous, begging your ex to come back to you, but you didn’t care, only focused on the hug you shared with the boy who left you all too soon.

[corseque]

I keep thinking about the interview with the motion capture actor who played both Gustave and Verso, and how brilliant it was that the director wanted the same person to play both characters. I think it worked even better because the actor who played them (Maxence Cazorla) seems like he has an enormous and empathetic and kind heart, and listening to him talk about how it was to play both of these characters over a year of work made me realize some more things about the story.

My favorite thing in stories, even above wizards, is when the story can make you feel empathy for anyone and everyone in the story. The story can allow you to see from every angle and understand it completely. The most dissatisfying thing to me in a story is coming away from it feeling as if I didn't quite understand why someone was acting the way they were, or if a story seems to discard an entire viewpoint or person as evil or not worth exploring. I dislike it when especially fantasy stories invent and introduce a faction as pure evil, it just seems very pointless or masturbatory to me. I understand that a lot of people enjoy those kinds of stories, but I'm personally not out there exploring alternate worlds trying to encounter an enemy that just makes me feel righteous. I just want to Understand Everything. I want to understand things that are not understandable and things I will never experience. I want to understand the full spectrum of human experience.

And so the way this actor described his experience of playing both of these characters is fascinating to me.

Clair Obscur spoilers

Aspects I find fascinating and keep turning over in my head:

the fact that Maxence simply played HIMSELF as Gustave, how Gustave moves just like Maxence, how he simply played Gustave as he would play himself. How he didn't have to study or prepare in any way for Gustave because he simply played himself as he would, and leaned into being surprised by what was coming in the way that Gustave did in the story. Gustave's lovability and gentleness just came straight from this actor's open heart and his personality.

that Maxence knew from the very beginning that Verso allowed Gustave to die. How Maxence struggled deeply when he had to say goodbye to Gustave and how he resented Verso extremely for letting him die, feeling the same feelings that the audience felt (and probably on an even deeper level than we can understand).

that Maxence had to study and prepare and grill the directors about Verso's motivations because he's always lying all the time. So he played Gustave so naturally and so easily, but he had to put so much work into doing justice to Verso and understanding him

The way that Maxence's gentleness and kindness and caring still came out through Verso, giving him this wonderful depth. You get this feeling that Verso is a truly good person underneath, a feeling that I had playing that was so strong that I literally ignored all the foreshadowing (and only realized the true extent of his actions like long after the game was over) because I felt so strongly that in his heart he was good and that he cared. I think this was a combo of Maxence and Ben Starr's incredible delivery of the lines, but I don't think that it would have been nearly as successful without Maxence's generosity of heart.

So my favorite thing in the world, when you have to understand your enemy and learn what drives them, when you have to become the one who kills you and learn to feel their feelings, the actor actually embodied this. That he actually struggled and did his best and even at the end Gustave is STILL his favorite, but he came to understand and feel for Verso enough to portray him so honestly, and put himself into Verso and Gustave as the emotional core of the entire game.

And then the director also made him play Renoir in the epilogue scene as well, to borrow again from his subtle, expressive body language to portray Renoir's love and mourning to close off the story the way it began with Gustave's love and mourning.

It also helped so much to draw the parallels between the characters, since Gustave obviously dies to allow the audience to experience the loss of Verso in a visceral way, so we can actually understand what it's like to have that loss so we're all on the same page. And the ideas that the story has of bringing the dead back but it not feeling quite right because they're not the same, to see Verso's body language changed from Gustave but played by the same man is so brilliant. I want to watch Clair Obscur as a stage play where one actor plays both Gustave and Verso (and Renoir in the epilogue).

I truly think that this actor and his large heart was a huge key in the success of this game and the success of the storytelling. The way that he played Verso so honestly and put his soul into his eyes after feeling betrayed by Verso and feeling like Verso killed Gustave, who was a part of him is so wonderful to me. And then to do the same thing for Renoir, who killed Gustave and Sophie. Idk it's so hard to explain, but this contrast and coming to terms and understanding and drawing very deliberate parallels is my favorite thing in the entire world.

So yeah this knowledge of how the actor felt playing both characters is so key to my understanding of the story now and I'm always thinking about Maxence now when I'm watching any of these cutscenes.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero truly didn't like undercover work.

They didn't deem themselves to be very good at it, after all they were impatient. For the most part, observing someone else felt wrong, pretending to be someone they were not wasn't easy and now, they were in the busiest park of the city, watching the subject like some maniac.

Hating their boss for putting this stupid project onto them wasn't exactly helping them with anything but maybe, maybe, their frustration could make it clear how much they hated this.

However, they also knew their boss was spoiling them, the agency was spoiling them. They shouldn't have been allowed to complain.

They were the newest recruit and people seemed to adore them. The hero wasn't sent on any dangerous missions, nor was their training program particularly formidable. The hero was already used to being called the baby, even though they were way past twenty.

It wasn't annoying per se - the hero had expected to save a lot more people and be of more use, but that seemed far away from reality at the moment. They were being treated like a little sibling that needed protection.

They sighed.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" The warm breath against their neck nearly gave the hero a heart attack. They turned around and almost jumped out of their own skin (and over the bench).

"You-"

"Unless you're staring at me, of course." The villain seemed so horribly human in these clothes. They walked around the bench and sat down right next to the hero. One thigh on the other.

"You-" the hero repeated. They wanted to get up and arrest the villain, but their enemy was quicker. They put their arm around the hero's shoulders and pulled them close against them. Close enough for their cheeks to press against each other.

"Now, now. Not so hasty," the villain purred. The hero tried to get up again, but this time, the villain's hands dropped to their waist and pulled them back to their side. Ultimately, the hero decided to let it rest for now and find other means of escaping later.

"You've got some nerves, showing up here."

"Dunno what you're talking about, I was just taking a stroll and saw my lovely partner out here," the villain said. Their mouth curled into a smile. "Who are we stalking?"

"That's classified," the hero said. They put their hands into their pockets and let out another sigh that turned into gentle mist. The temperature had dropped overnight - a bitter reminder that winter came when it pleased.

"Oh, my. What a shame, maybe I could have helped you." They pulled the hero closer and leaned their head against the hero's. It reminded them of the shared childhood they craved to forget.

"I doubt it," the hero mumbled. "That subject is just a decoy. They gave me a random person to observe. Has barely anything to do with the case we are working on."

"Aww, are you still under puppy protection? What a waste of your talents, just imagine what the both of us could-"

"You know I am not going to join you, I've made that clear," the hero said. Their voice was sharp. "I've been waiting my entire life for this. So, what if I have to wait a little bit more? What if I am not taken seriously yet? I can endure waiting."

"Urgh, you are so lovely," the villain said. This time, they leaned their entire body against the hero's side, just like a cat that craved attention. They crossed their arms in front of their chest, hiding their own hands from the cold. "Don't let anything change the shape of your soul, got it?"

"You're awful," the hero whispered, but they let themselves relax a little. They didn't harbour any ill feelings towards anyone, not even the villain. Not anymore. They didn't want anyone dead.

They simply wanted to be seen. They wanted to be seen so badly.

"Don't get frustrated," the villain said. Their voice was calmer, maybe even more serious. "Your time will come. Good people always succeed. And you are inherently good."

"What about you?" The villain was still leaning against them. They probably truly looked like two lovers.

"Ahh, you know I don't like all those rules," the villain said. "Rules and regulations are so restrictive. I could never be comfortable with following orders. I have my own methods. My own goals."

They looked at each other. Both of them were older now, but it felt like they were kids again. Kids who had chosen different paths, yet they were irrevocably intertwined. The hero's cheeks warmed up.

"Can't wait to really fight against you," the villain said. "Motivated heroes are so difficult to chew up."

They turned and traced the hero's bottom lip with their thumb.

"Right?"

The hero's eyes widened, but the villain stood up quickly, stretching, as if nothing had happened.

"Anyway, enjoy those rookie days." They winked. "You need to prepare for our fights after all."

And just as fast as they had appeared, they disappeared into the park again.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"It sure can be," Bill said, "Although when a cyclist has just finished up or is still going, I find the blood flows a lot faster because it's still pumping through them."

And most telemarketers had to just sit and talk on the phone most of the day, which wasn't as optimal.

"Funnily enough, Lewis told us that too," Simon agreed, "And well, it is certainly true. As they say, you can either run from your mistakes or you can learn from them. More of us should choose the latter. I'm glad you still have your brothers. You all are certainly more than just that too."

"If only Ma or Gramps could have known that," Travis said, before he shrugged, "But hey, family is what you make it too, and they certainly didn't want to make us part of theirs and we're making our own again."

"Y-yeah," Russell agreed, before he then looked over at the tools Erica had pointed out, "Good, good idea. We, we don't know what, what they might do."

"Good shout," Travis said, "We got plenty of other things to wreck in here either way. Nice! You found the car keys. We'll make good use of those."

At least they hadn't been on Five's person when they dumped him into the void.

Russell eyed a set of apparatus that was most likely used to mix poisons or possibly make existing ones more potent. Those certainly had to go. So Russell moved forward and broke up the glass items with all of his might until nothing but shards remained. The crowbar made very quick work of it.

"Heh yeah, it, it does feel pretty good," Russell said, managing a small smile as he looked back at Lucien then.

Travis smacked at one of the tactical masks with the pipe he had found and grinned.

"You can say that again," Travis agreed.

Bill fell into silence as Rook spoke, not wanting to interrupt her while she was lightening the heavy weight she had been clearly carrying for a very long time now.

"I can imagine," Bill said, with a small nod, just to show that he was listening. Well, he could hardly imagine that sort of thinking, "That is frightening to think about."

And of course, seeing someone who did have a similar path and had chosen to do what Five had done was most likely a very harsh reminder of Rook could have turned out under worse circumstances.

"You have people who love and support you, Rook," Bill said, "And you know your principles. No one can take that away from you. Even when you have to do something that's not ideal, you don't take enjoyment from it like he did. I'm proud of you for what you did today. Well, I'm proud of you for a lot of things, but I am also very proud of you for today as well."

That sympathy returned to Bill's grey eyes as he heard that last part.

"Well, even if you end up resenting yourself. None of us resent you, and you can come talk to any of us, spend some time with us, or anything you need to help lighten that burden if you need it," Bill said, "I promise."

He could promise that.

Leofric still watched Frosty, just for any other signs of anything particularly urgent. But it seemed that both he and Veronica had come to same conclusion that he just needed some rest for the time being, and the rest would come later.

And there was also the problem the problem of why Frosty felt like he couldn't return home, and finding some sort of solution to that.

"That sounds like an optimal plan," Leofric said, with a nod of approval, "I'll check on my grimoire in the meantime and make a decision on the best concoctions to use to treat his injuries and the poisoning he endured."

Antonio then gave Veronica a nod.

"Yes, I can do that," Antonio said. With that, he fixed a new glowing green gaze on Frosty, the various shades in his irises swirling like paint but never truly blending, "Frosty, you are tired. You need to rest now. To sleep well. For as long you as need to. Rest and sleep."

It was more forceful than what he did when helping Rook sleep. But it just helped to speed up the process. Antonio then added one last thing as an afterthought more than anything else.

"Sweet dreams."

"Variety is good!" And Erica appreciated that she was being humored. Most people started questioning her logic and that was very much not the point.

"I have noticed that mistakes are sometimes necessary in order to learn." Willow replied, "I almost lost my brothers once and that served as a reminder that family can't simply be cast aside until your earliest convenience, or managed like another company asset."

It used to be easier to do so when it was still just the five of them. But even with the facility and the children to look after, they still tried to make time to be together even for just a meal.

The shadows were dispelled once the crane was gone, leaving Erica free to have a closer look at the scattered belongings in case there was something unsafe to handle. It turned out her hunch was right

"...Oh no." She raised her hands, motioning to keep a safe distance. "Don't touch these tools! There's Ratchet's smell on them."

It was only fair everybody would know. Erica then shoved some notes aside and snatched a car key off the table. Now they could steal Five's car in a funnier way than feeding it to the void.

Willow quietly retrieved a box to store the books they were taking. They were going to the same place as the car, but half of the entertainment for Rook was digging into the pile for anything of interest. Presentation did indeed matter.

Lucien gladly drew his baseball bat and joined Russell. He aimed for a row of vials still waiting to be filled, then took a moment to savor the feeling.

"I know he will buy another one, but this feels great."

He almost felt like he could breath a little better.

Rook made to climb off Bill's back once they reached the roof, moving carefully so her spikes would not ruin his outfit. She took a moment to check their surroundings, before looking back at him.

"It's not much. I just..." She let out a tired sigh, "I've always been worried of losing control and hurting those around me and it's been hard to even look at Five. He's all those things and he likes it. He made it too real."

Rook trailed off as the memories of her time under Five's influence threatened to resurface.

"...But at the same time, it made me feel better." she then added, "Because I know what went wrong with him and know what to watch out for and I... just needed to say it out loud. I might still not be nice to myself in the future, but I feel a bit better for now."

She didn't dare adding that she felt a bit bad for Five as well, not after everything he had done. For now, a promise that she would try not resenting herself for being what she was as much would suffice.

Veronica was glad to see Frosty wasn't trying to fight back as they tended to him. He didn't do as much as flinch when he was sprayed and raise a hand to shield his face. That alone was a struggle in his current state. The best he could hope for was to pass out and not have to endure for as long as he could whatever they were really planning for him.

"Well, a cup of my special tea is in order, but we should wait a few more hours for that. His abilities have been tampered with enough, we would risk causing permanent damage." Veronica replied, "The best we can do right now is tending to his physical injuries."

Toxins aside, Frosty was going to feel very sore from the beating he took before going berserk.

"For now, though, sleep is the best medicine for him. Would you mind tending to that, Antonio? Erika told me that's a specialty of yours."

[goomyloid]

hi!! i love your kriselle work and i have no one else around me that talks about them so jklfhadss please pardon me intruding!!!

what are your thoughts on how noelle describes her relationship with kris to susie during the closet?

i get that she's downplaying it because noelle's talking to her crush, but also i just can't imagine being kris in this situation and hearing how noelle describes their relationship. especially in contrast to how we hear noelle's thoughts in ch2, that kris is the only person who knows how weird she truly is

the ferris wheel explanation in particular felt like things didn't add up in the way noelle explains it to susie as forced and how she can't remember if it was a good or bad thing that kris scared her and then smiled

like maybe it's my feverish brain, but maybe the atmosphere was... kind of awkward in a weird 'maybe we sorta do, sorta don't have a crush on each other' way and kris shook the gondola to lighten the air, bring it back to what their friendship normally is (of them pranking her and her being scared in a safe way around them).

it just feels like noelle's explanation to susie about them is another layer to their strange friendship and i just have so many thoughts about themmm!

ive gotten so many asks about this specific line from chapter 4 LMAO (figured i would answer the most thorough one) (thank you...)

it was definitely interesting to say the least... noelle downplaying her relationship with kris could come off in so many diff ways. ultimately i kind of interpreted as like, noelle trying to show to susie that she Doesnt Just Go And Ride on Ferris Wheels with Anyone, hence the line about how 2 people feel riding one together....

oughh it makes me sad that she tries to insist it was 'forced' LOL even though it makes sense for a few reasons. little noelle was probably smart enough to know that she wasn't gonna get out of it without kris messing with her somehow. and also crazy krusielle shenanigans where noelle doesnt want to show shes close with very close with kris because she likes susie, and also susie might get jealous of BOTH of them (wanting to be in either noelle's or kris's position), etc... regardless i think it was just spur of the moment spitballing and she didn't REALLY mean it how it sounded lol. i do kind of imagine kris was disappointed to hear it but probably felt like they had no right to be disappointed considering all the goofs they used to pull lol...

BUT YEA erm maybe in chapter 5 they should ride the ferris wheel in ch5 together erm.......... so like kris can make it up to her....please.... they should.... if it doesnt happen ill draw it MYSELF.... PLEASE...

[biavolo]

(LATE) DIADOP WEEK DAY 4 - FATE

The topic of fate, for the Diavolo system, is a very juicy one to cover. On the immediate end of the spectrum, I think about the fate Diavolo and Doppio have been cast to, but I wanted to do something nicer for the day, and something that better played on the shipping aspect of the week. Diavolo is famously obsessed with fate, and this led me to think of other things, in particular,  the relationship he would have had with divination. I am a sucker for the concept of foretelling the future and I figure that, although Epitaph offered immediate readings of the future, someone as paranoid as Diavolo would go to great lengths to try and get a handle on more indepth messages too. So, I went for one of the most common methods of divination, one he would have definitely come across and considered - tarot. 

I’ve seen a few tarot cards tackle JoJo characters, and while they’re all unique and interesting in their own right, I did not want to go through the ‘Devil’ card route. While Diavolo would probably be very happy to be seen as one, I felt this card would not fit the prompt as it did not cover Doppio, and I also felt like it was slightly overdone, in a way of which I’m sure other people could interpret it differently and make good art for it, but I personally did not feel like that challenge was mine. I wanted to pick a major arcana that was instantly obvious in meaning to me, but that also had imagery that fit the two characters. I wanted something that could be taken one way at face value, and another each time looking upon it. 

The Lovers card can have several meanings, and the inspiration behind this interpretation is based in the Rider-Waite tarot deck. Often contradictory. The name suggests lovers, so it should merely be about love and romantic connection, right? 

This member of the major arcana can talk of decisions, and in the case of Diavolo and Doppio, it is whether to be truly free of the past or not. While Diavolo stands in front of a burning church, believing his past to be wiped away, he still lingers on the prospect of the past. He believes himself to be free, but despite this finds himself looking over his shoulder. On the other hand, Doppio stands in front of a cherry tree, symbolising the start of spring, the season of renewal and new lives. Instead of attempting to joust with the past, Diavolo has given him the luxury of living in the present and looking to the future.  

This card can also talk of connection, and in this image what speaks to connect the two together is the presence of King Crimson above them, in my writings acting as a gatekeeper to the system. He replaces Raphael, and holds the delicate balance of the system in place, fostering lines of communication and healing. He is the unseen and omnipotent force in their world. 

It can also be read much more literally, reflecting their love for each other, whether you see it as platonic or otherwise.. It talks of partnership, and I don’t think there is a closer duo in all of JoJo - at least, none others share the task of maintaining one body. When I first selected this card for them, I wasn’t sure if it would fit the deal - indeed, it seemed to take the name at a rather literal value, just like I’ve seen interpretations of Diavolo as the Devil card. However, to me, the more I look into it the more sense it makes. There is no closer bond in my eyes, as a system, than that of a system. One person working as multiple, multiple people working as one. This is not to romanticise DID, but as someone diagnosed with it, it does bring me comfort to make a more ‘positive’ portrayal of them. 

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hello! New to comics and I don't really feel like the New-52 comics are for me and would really like to read and understand Pre-flashpoint and all the dark and good stuff there. Is there an order or starting point you would recommend? Thanks for your time, and I hope you have a great day!

hi! i'm so glad you want to get into comics! i'd love to help with some recs! since you're here, i'm going to assume you're a Batfamily fan and most of my recs will cater to that, but i will try to encompass a bit of everything to help you just understand some big moments and all this mess that is DC canon. adding a cut bc jesus this got long.

so your starting point for pre-Flashpoint is going to be Crisis on Infinite Earths. the TLDR of this event is: DC had a big multiverse in the 70s and early 80s that wasn't friendly to new readers. to try to push their titles more and become a proper competitor to Marvel, they created an in-universe storyline that nuked the multiverse and gave a solid entry point for new fans going forward. this is why you hear terms like Pre-Crisis and Post-Crisis. it refers to the comics canon before and after this event, in 1985. some characters had some big changes (for example: pre-Crisis Jason Todd was a circus kid whose parents were killed by Killer Croc) but most remained largely the same, just simplified. you don't *have* to start with Crisis on Infinite Earths if you don't want to. it's a *good* storyline, but it's a big one and a lot of big multiverse-scale stuff happens. so as long as you understand it as "big event that nuked DC's multiverse and gave the world a clean slate in 1985", then you've basically got the gist. also Barry Allen dies during it, but he comes back so don't worry about it.

in general, if DC has some big timeline/canon-altering event, they're going to call it a Crisis Event. the only Crisis Events that will matter to you, trying to get into pre-Flashpoint are

Crisis On Infinite Earths - the above, starts the Post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint timeline

Zero Hour: Crisis In Time - an event in the 90s that sought to fix some of the kinks that the above Crisis caused, like fixing the origins of the Legion of Superheroes and other Golden/Silver Age characters, not *super* important tbh

Infinite Crisis - this was a big event that brought back some characters who got nuked by Crisis on Infinite Earths, unfucked Power Girl's backstory, and set the groundwork to bring back the multiverse. if you've heard "Superboy Prime punched a hole in reality and it brought back Jason Todd" yeah, this is the story where it happened

Final Crisis - a big event that was partly meta commentary but heroes fought Darkseid, Batman died for a hot second, it was all a big deal about evil winning and all that

Flashpoint - the event that nuked this timeline, a big storyline to do with Flash and the timeline that would result in the New-52 in 2011

are you confused yet? good embrace the confusion it's going to become second nature of a comic fan. you don't need to read these events as a beginner. you really don't i promise. they'll sound big and important, but besides Crisis On Infinite Earths and Flashpoint, the start and end of this era, the rest you can just kind of breeze by so long as you understand the big plot points like Batman dying or Superboy Prime punching reality. unless you really care about a character central to these stories, skip 'em for now.

now for any character, if they have a Year One comic? that is a very safe bet as a place to start. it is what it sounds like. Batman: Year One is going to be Bruce's first year as Batman. same as Green Arrow: Year One, Batgirl: Year One, etc. when in doubt, if there's a Year One, start with Year One. (note: for Superman, his "year one" type story is called Superman: Birthright and it is worth reading if you like Superman)

for Batman, i am holding you by the shoulders when i say this: people will tell you to read The Killing Joke. they're liars. do not listen to them. it's a bad story. you don't need it. do not let the Joker fanboys lie to you. people will also say Dark Knight Returns. don't listen to *them* either. i *like* DKR, i talk about it a lot here. it's not a good intro to Batman. it's an AU story, it's not canon, ignore it for now.

now where you *should* start with Batman, imo, is as followed

Batman: Year One - as said above, Year Ones are good, this is solid to start with

Batman: The Long Halloween - this is an iconic story and it's a followup to year One

Batman: Dark Legacy - the followup to Long Halloween, also a very good story

Batman: Hush - this story is a solid starter if you want to understand the general vibe of Gotham, the typical characters you see in the Batfamily, and a good Batman villain

once you've got the basics down, you *can* get into the big boy storylines like Batman: Knightfall and Batman: No Man's Land, but don't worry about those right now. they're long and complicated and shouldn't really be your starting point no matter how good they are.

other very good pre-Flashpoint comics that are easy to pick up and iconic storylines

Death of Superman - this is a long arc in the Superman run that if you collect in trades, goes Death of Superman, Funeral For A Friend, Reign of the Supermen, Return of Superman, Doomsday. it's long, but a very iconic storyline

Wonder Woman by George Perez - this the run that helped define modern Wonder Woman within the pre-Flashpoint era

JLA: Year One - if you want a good Justice League story where you get characters besides Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman taking the shine, this is a great place to start

Green Arrow by Mike Grell - start with Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters and then go into Green Arrow (1988). this has the darker, very 80s vibes that gets a bit gritty and very realistic with the issues it faces bc Green Arrow comics tend to be more rooted

The New Teen Titans by Marv Wolfman - this technically starts before pre-Flashpoint, don't worry about it it's fine. a good run for all of these characters, can get a little confusing, it is okay to be confused do not be afraid to google shit

so, some big stories out of the way i'm just. honestly going to run down the line of the major pre-Flashpoint Batfamily members and give you comic recs for them that you can start with. (besides Bruce obviously, bc well. see above)

Dick Grayson

NIghtwing: Year One

Robin: Year One

Nightwing (1995)

Tim Drake

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying

Robin (1990)

Robin II: Joker's Wild

Robin III: Cry of the Huntress

Robin (1993)

Barbara Gordon

Batgirl: Year One

Birds of Prey (1999)

Jason Todd

Batman: The Cult (as Robin)

Batman: Death in the Family (as Robin)

Batman: Under The Red Hood

Red Hood: Lost Days

Cassandra Cain

Batgirl (2000)

Batman: No Man's Land

Jean-Paul Valley

Batman: Sword of Azrael

Batman: Knightfall

Stephanie Brown

Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma

Batgirl (2009)

Selina Kyle

Catwoman by Ed Brubaker

Helena Bertinelli

Batman/Huntress: Cry For Blood

Huntress: Year One

Birds of Prey: Manhunt

Damian Wayne

Batman & Robin (2009)

there are other very important pre-Flashpoint stories for all of these characters, but these are starting points more than anything. figure out what characters you're interested and go from there. understanding the universe at large helps, do not get me wrong. but at the end of the day, comics are a choose your own adventure of who you want to give a shit about. you're *never* going to read everything "important" and you're probably not going to understand everything. that's okay. don't treat it like a media you need to "complete" like a tv show or a movie, but more like an open world game where you decide what characters/teams/stories you like the most.

pre-Flashpoint covers a lot of ground. some stuff will be darker and grittier, some stuff will be more light-hearted. it will all be about what titles you pick up and what characters you decide you want to read about. you're obviously going to get a much more grounded storyline out of Green Arrow than you are say, a JLA comic. i prefer the more grounded, "street level" sorts of characters. (if you like gritty detective stories, i will be biased and highly recommend the Question (1987) just because. i love him okay.) but you might find you like sometimes more worldly and big scale. at the end of the day: don't force yourself to love a comic you're not enjoying, even if you like that character. you can put that shit down. sometimes, "important stories" are by shitty writers that you won't enjoy reading and you shouldn't make this hobby a chore. i don't care how "critically acclaimed" it is, you don't have to like it if it doesn't click for you. and on the flipside, a comic might be considered "bad" but you may enjoy it (a personal example: Robin III: Cry of the Huntress is considered a very weak comic. don't care. i love it anyway.) accept the cringe, have fun, and enjoy yourself at the end of the day. none of it will make sense anyway so just read what sounds cool to you.

this was all over the place and rambly, but i hope it helps at least a little! welcome to comics anon! if you or anyone else would like more character-specific recs, feel free to ask! if i don't know, i can at the very least hopefully point you in the right direction <3

[mystxmomo]

[...] #tentatively looking forward to what you'll say about the changedance#since it's kinda The Thing that drew me to eilistraee originally when i made my trans woman eilistraen oc#so i will take the 'neurosis' comment in as good faith a reading as possible going in [...] @alicelufenia

Sorry to put your tags on the spot. But, since you expressed interest. It will be a bit shorter because it's such a contained topic, comparatively.

So, I want to start by saying that I like how the Change Dance is set up in 5e. More on that at the end, but I think it's important to say that first because it can radically color how the rest of this post is read.

The thing about the Change Dance is that (in my opinion) in it's original inception it was a reflection of a lot of the flaws that I talked about within the church. "We'll accept men into our clergy, but only if they spend time as a woman." is framed as an unquestioned good, when it could just as easily turn into "Being forced into a body you might not be comfortable with to prove your devotion to your faith and love to your goddess," Which I think can be something skincrawling for a lot of people.

However.

As your tags show, it cannot be discredited that this something that truly speaks the people that it has. Gender, Sexuality, and Identity as a whole is so personal to the individual that even before it was changed to be an optional part of her clergy, I don't know if I would have felt comfortable calling it bad writing in as much as one that comes from a very limited scope. And, frankly, I don't even think it really HAD to change, I think things that enable representation that's good and celebratory for one group of people can alienate another without being a bad thing to have out in the world. It just means that it's not for everyone, things can exist strictly for the people that need it.

However. I do think the fact that Ed took the time to reconsider The Change Dance, how it functioned culturally in the framework of Eilistraee's church, and has listened to people who historically said it was an aspect of the church that didn't make them feel great is telling of how concerned he is about making the realms as enabling and inclusive to all stories that could be told through it. I do sincerely think he created this as something celebratory based on how he's spoken and the framework he's put it into in the past.

(I also think that the realms as a whole has always so clearly been created from a place of love on Greenwoods part, and with how often the "Man forced to experience life as a woman" Trend pops up + with how he's talked about the fact that it's something that he's been writing about since he was a child I would feel comfortable saying this was something not only written with the best intention, but as a result of him using the realms to introspect and explore aspects of himself that we as an audience will never be quite privy to, and honestly don't need to be unless it's something he feels comfortable sharing.)

So yeah. TL;DR of my opinion. While the Change Dance's original conception is something that could be argued to rub oddly against the other flaws of the church that popped up, it's something that not only has evolved to change with the times and be so much more inclusive, but has always been something made from a place meant to celebrate changes of gender expression, not belittle. And while I think it was done so in a very limited lens, I don't think it had to be widened to include more. Even if I'm appreciative of the fact it was.

I love your posts on Vhaeraun! They're really grounded in his character and I appreciate that you went into the reasoning behind his actions while not dismissing that he sometimes does messed up things. I've been insane about drow lore for years now and I'm curious about your thoughts on Eilistraee. She's such an interesting character to me in that while she obviously cares about the drow and seeks their freedom the way she goes about it come off almost naive at times. But at the same time she has a deep melancholy and temper. And she opposes Lolth but her clergy still operates similarly at times with the exclusion of males and almost dogmatic reluctance to accept change. Idk I think her contradictions are interesting and she's not frequently explored beyond a shallow, romanticized lens. Sorry for ranting lol but if you have any thoughts on her I would love to hear them!

Yeeeah. I'm glad you sent this, actually. I have another ask that I'm writing up a longer answer for dealing with Vhaeraun and Eilistraee's relationship, and to get into why I see their relationship like I do I had to sit down and spend the first part of that analyzing her character. So, I'm actually happy that I have the chance to separate the post into parts, both for length and just keeping things concise.

First off, yeah. I think the important thing about DnD gods is that they're as "human" as they are. They're not omnipotent, they're deeply flawed people and characters with motivations and histories that color their perspective on things. I think a more grounded approach to them is "the correct one" (in as much as any interpretation in DND can be a correct one, but my thoughts on that still remain that they're just building blocks for you to do as you'd like with.

Now. This post is going to be equally long. I actually have a lot of thoughts on Eilistraee, but to explore the thoughts that I have on her we need to go into the bigger real world concepts that influence her and the idea's around her. So, I do feel that a few disclaimers going into this before I hit it with our read-more are necessary.

I'm going to format this post a little differently than I did Vhaeruan's. The thing about Vhaeraun's character is that within the books and DnD proper, he's meant to be an evil. Right. So it's not very hard to get people on board with the idea that in their attempts to demonize him, they managed to create a compelling abuse narrative. However. Eilistraee and her church, as you mentioned, often ends up getting seen through this incredibly romanticized lens especially within in the role she plays in drow society. So when her church doesn't have the best portrayal in these books, there's seemingly this community impulse to disregard those portrayals as something lesser or like they hold less narrative weight because they don't play into the better parts of the church.

So I want to start this post by creating a groundwork using things that are strictly from the source books and official magazines, and then building on that to lend weight to the portrayals her and her church is given within the novels. And then I will get into sourcing things like Evermeet, War of the Spider Queen, and Lady Penitent when I talk about Eilistraee and Vhaeraun's relationship.

Secondly, you'll notice I mentioned her church a lot here. Eilistraee is in an interesting position. Unlike Vhaeraun and Lolth (Of who I believe the books are rather explicit about where and how their motivations differ from their churches) Eilistraee really doesn't get as much of that treatment. We're told some things about how she holds herself and what she values, but she's purposefully left as an enigma. You have to make a lot more assumptions about who she is based around the community around her.

Now, I DO think the gods are separate people from their churches, and often times do hold different views to the communities that are devoted to them. My favorite example being Vhaeraun being genuinely far more chill about woman than his church is, and you can see it in the way he has to go "Yes, oh my god, you even need to help the female drow rogues no matter what."

So, I want to explore her church and what is seen as "good" within it in relationship to her, though I do promise to account for the fact that it is not her. I just think that there are some conclusions you can draw about her based on her church.

Finally, same disclaimer I gave in Vhaeraun Analysis is worth giving here. I am about to focus on Eilistraee and her church in a lot of very critical ways. I don't hate Eilistraee, I think a lot of people do use character criticism as an excuse to engage in character hate, so I understand why people get a little defensive about it sometimes. But I think she's genuinely a very fascinating character, and the criticisms I have are part of the reason I'm so interested in her and who she is. I'm an author who's main interest comes from exploring these heavier themes of abuse and trauma and exploring how real world cultural influences show within art.

Basically. This is fun for me, and if it's not fun for you, you don't have to take my analysis as anything more then one persons insane ramblings on the internet. This is a red string board of media analysis. It's also a LOT more subjective and has a lot of my opinions baked into it as a result of what we're going to get into, so. Make of it what you will.

Now. This pre read-more part of the post is already quite long, but as a final note. I'm going to be getting into a lot of heavier topics here. Abuse is obvious given the drow, but I actually want to get into specfically emotionally abusive structures, what cultural catholicism is, and passive sexism (Especially with Gender Elitism) and how these ideas and their existence within our cultural effects her church.

Okay!

So, I will actually start on a more positive note:

I'm not going to be criticizing the nudity or sexuality of her church. I have made mention in the past that I'm of the belief that the drow and the cultures around it, despite often being played rather straight in-universe as horror and cult abusive narratives, were things created on a Doylist level to be very titillating, sexually explicit, and horrifying. I don't think this is a bad thing and I don't think it discredits the weight these characters and stories end up having. And in fact, I think these stories could only be as strong as they are because they were fueled by being as emotionally charged as they are (Sexuality is an emotion.)

I think. And I acknowledge that this one is a very subjective opinion, but my opinion you will have nonetheless. I think, in a time where cultural puritanical-ism is at it's height, it's actually growing to be very important to have casual portrayals of sexuality and nudity, let ALONE nonsexual nudity. I've always been of the opinion that it's fine. Let woman go topless (if that's something you want to explore of course, the beauty of DnD remains if you DON'T want to include it you don't have to. But to deny it as a source of inspiration would feel incorrect.)

So I'm not going to be criticizing the nudity and sexuality of it all when it comes to her church. I think it's fun, I think there are ways you can explore that in a meaningful way, and I think something is being done thematically there that's worth keeping and examining as is given to us.

Secondarily. While there are things I'm going to be critical of with her church, there are things I really, really love about her church. I think the thing that tends to draw people into her isn't all the things I'm about to talk about, but rather the focus on drow as a people with art, and culture, and community. And this is something I really like about her church as well. Having something that puts divine weight on the importance of these things speaks to a lot of people I think, especially given that DnD was created in fuckle America land of the "Continuing to cut more and more from arts and humanities and community everyday." Her religion really is the only of the drow religions that puts this much emphasis on celebrating that.

I like domestic fantasy. I prefer it to hero's journeys actually, but if I start talking about that I'll get off topic.

So yes. I think there is a reason she and her church gets as romanticized as it does. It's built into the text to be romanticized, because the people who originally made it were romanticizing it.

Okay. so with THOSE two things spoken for. Lets get into the nitty gritty.

DnD and it's alignment system, at it's core, has always had something of an issue with the cultural Catholicism of it all. Cultural Catholicism is the idea that when you're raised in a society where the dominant religion is Christian-Catholic, even if you yourself are not Catholic it's likely you'll still pick up idea's of Catholicism within your own morality, and that those ideas will be echoed within the media you consume because as it is the dominant culture it influences what is seen as acceptable. You don't have to be Catholic, or even be raised as Catholic, to end up holding a lot of trauma and shame regarding ideas that are only considered shameful through the lens of Catholicism. As an example, a lot of people are still taught to feel a lot of shame around nudity and sex as a result of living in a society who's dominant religion influences the way conversations around it are handled.

So. To make my point about this, I would like to start by exploring the concept of Sin Eating.

The Silver Haired Knights were a concept introduced in Dragon Magazine #315. Dragon Magazine, if you don't know, if an official supplement material in the age before the internet. Now, it's worth noting. This was 3e-3.5e, which was the start of their attempts to double down on the demonization of all drow. Nonetheless, I think they thought this was a good thing and I still see it talked about today in some communities as a Good Thing:tm:.

Sin Eating is an ability that the Silver Haired Knights contain. I'm going to copy and paste from the wiki rather than Dragon Magazine itself because it summarizes it far better than the Dragon Magazine article does, though the Dragon Magazine article isn't hard to find, I implore you to go read it for yourself to get the full context of the class.

Powerful Silverhair Knights had the ability to "consume sins", to take the full weight of cruelty and suffering inflicted by evil beings' (mostly fey, humanoids, monstrous humanoids, and giants, but especially drow) upon themselves, which gave the Silverhair Knights their nickname: sin eaters. This was a complex and dangerous ritual, taking some minutes, that required the sin eater to maintain uninterrupted physical contact with their subject. The subject creature could be willing or unwilling, usually kept bound in the latter cases, or else unaware of the sin eater's intent if the sin eater chose to disguise it. When fully performed, the target creature felt the weight of all their sins on their conscience, understanding firsthand the errors of their ways. In cases of success, the target creatures were freed from their evil, regretted their past actions, and chose a different path from evil, often taking after the Knight, while the sins themselves were absorbed into the sin eater's soul and destroyed in the light of their purity and faith. In cases of failure, the sin eaters themselves were overcome by the absorbed sins; filled with despair, grief, rage, drained of their vitality, and fell into a coma for a full day. This could potentially kill the sin eater, but they would rise again as a ghost, with the same evil ways as the one they had tried to redeem. A sin eater could only attempt this risky ritual once a week, and only perform it on an individual sinner once a year.

I think this is, a little gross actually! To view this as a moral positive you have to believe in four things.

One, that sin and the weight of it is real on a metaphysical level (I do not.) Two, that redemption is earned strictly with forgiveness (I do not), Three, that people who are "pure" are noble by nature of being pure (I do not) and Four, that doing things without peoples consent to make them a "Better Person" is an inherent moral good, and anything done in the name of making someone live a "more ethical lifestyle" is an equal inherent good (Which I REALLY do not believe in. What is "good." Why is "good." How are you so sure your idea of good is so correct that it is work inflicting violence upon another person over, and in this context, changing the core of who they are over.)

The modern idea of purity, sin, and redemption, all come from Christianity. It is the idea that you need to work to be forgiven. It puts moral weight on the guilt and discomfort people feel for not only their past actions, but the past actions of the community around them. That you need to save others from their sin and from "evil."

To DnD, Good and Evil have an Aesthetic. You can be a good person that does violent things so long as it's for "good" reasons, and you can be an evil person that does good things however those good things are still considered evil because you yourself are bad. It's this idea of evil not as this very nuanced ethical dilemma, but instead as something that can be "Removed" from someone. I do not believe in this. I don't believe in the concept of sin (In that I don't believe in the concept of spiritual transgression or the idea of it as a corruptive influence) I don't believe in the concept of redemption (On a religious level of being absolved of it). I believe in people and their actions and how they respond to their circumstance, and I believe in people choosing to do better than they did yesterday. And this is one of the big flaws of Eilistraee's church and world view to me. Because to believe in Eilistraee's Churches Dogma, you have to accept the idea that drow need to work to be accepted. That it is their moral responsibility to show other people that they deserve their place in the world. And I don't believe that.

Although her arrow went astray because of Araushnee's treachery, Eilistraee chose banishment from Arvandor (and the Seldarine) along with her mother and brother, foreseeing a time when she would be needed to balance their evil. On Toril, the Dark Maiden strove for centuries against the hatred of Vhaeraun and his corrupting influence on the Ilythiiri (southern, darkskinned elves).

We don't know how much of Eilistraee's churches dogma's are her own. But based around how she talks about and views the drow under her brother and her mother (Cited above), I am willing to make the assumption that she sincerely does believe they need to earn their place in the world. And that's... It's kind of a depressing world view, isn't it? No community needs to earn acceptance and approval of others. To be allowed to exist should be enough.

...

Not unlike how I think a lot of Vhaeraun fans want to kind of swerve around the drow racism of it all, I think a lot of interpretations of Eilistraee really don't want to acknowledge the sexism of it all. But not unlike how I think the racism of Vhaeraun is deeply important to understanding how he see's the world, Eilistraee's churches specific brand of sexism and how it is an echo of Lolth's is DEEPLY important to understanding her and the culture around her.

In a way, I think ignoring the sexism of her church is worse..? Because often times, I'm met with the impression that it's not that we're CHOOSING not to include it, it's that we're not aware that it is sexism, right? There are a lot of people who, because of the romanticized idea they have of her (and because, admittedly of my own belief, of what is normalized in our culture and dominant religions) just don't view her sexism as a sexism, or believe her churches sexism to be a less severe form of it. I think both in the real world and in the in-character context of the text, the passive sexism of Eilistraee's church tends to get downplayed because it exists in conversation with the more explicit and violent idea's of Lolth's church.

Let's talk about Gender Elitism. You're almost definitely familiar with the concept of it, but. Term needs described nonetheless.

Gender Elitism is the idea that some genders are inherently superior to others. That they are, by nature of the existence of being that gender, inherently more valuable, more knowledgeable, more deserving of privilege and authority. There is no way to build a truly inclusive community with any kind Gender elitism as the framework. The idea that woman are inherently more valuable or more knowledgeable or more spiritually attuned is in itself a sexist ideology, and in the real world is often a reflection of sexist ideas of the inherent spirituality of womanhood.

And well.

All clergy of Eilistraee must be female, but they may be of any intelligent race.

I don't think people are often willing to meet the text where it's at. in the books, there's very clearly a self aware inversion of patriarchy -> matriarchy and a destruction of passive patriarchy through the lens of fantasy sexism.

However. Unlike the cultural Catholicism of DND and it's surrounding idea's of good and evil, I actually don't mind it's inclusion within the text. The written prose with DND (in recent years) are generally actually pretty self-aware of this flaw of the church, and a lot of authors purposefully play into the themes of it. And it makes sense to have it be included within the world building given what what this religion is in response to with Lolth's being the dominant religion of society. Eilistraee's church tends to reach out and recruit fallen nobility, and these are woman who are going to keep the views and want to keep holding the power that they do within their communities.

When you look at the kind of sexism Eilistraee's church is guilty of when in contrast with Lolth's, it's more palatable it's something I think men and well meaning woman alike raised in a lolth society would see as better. These are a group of people who already grew up believing woman to be born intrinsically more important by nature of that birth-rite. I don't think it's bad writing to have the conclusion that the Good church comes to be "Because we're not beating and killing these men, we have defeated sexism," while not addressing the core of where that mentality came from, and as a result still replicating a lot of exclusion and dismissing the importance of the lives of the men around them. Because that's a reflection of real life. I think even in real life, people struggle to sympathize with men and especially men who are victims of abuse, and it's something that blinds them to how they're engaging with this media.

Instead, my argument is that it's bad media analysis to ignore thats whats happening in an attempt to stick to this romanticized idea of the church.

So. That's the two big things with Eilistraee's Church. That's the lead-up to exploring Eilistraee as a character. But what does all of this say about her. How do we explore Eilistraee as a person as a result of all of this. Because, as I mentioned, the gods are separate from their church. A lot of gods do hold different values to their churches and different idea's then what their churches end up doing.

So let's dial this back a little bit and actually examine Eilistraee as a person. I'm going to post how she's described, and then I'm going to go into the longest point I want to make about her.

Eilistraee is a melancholy, moody drow female, a lover of beau- ty and peace. The evil of most drow banks a burning anger within her, and when her faithful are harmed, that anger is apt to spill out into wild action. It is not her way to act openly, but she often aids creatures she favors (whether they worship her or not) in small, immediately practical ways. Eilistraee is happi- est when she looks on bards singing or composing, craftsmen at work, lovers, or acts of kindness.

Eilistraee (pronounced “eel-ISS-trayee”) is a goddess of song and beauty, worshipped through song and dance— preferably in the surface world, under the stars of a moonlit night. Eilistraee aids her faithful in hunting and swordcraft, and worship of her is usually accompanied by feasting. Eilis¬ traee has worshippers of human, elven, and in particular half-elven stock (partic¬ ularly around Silvery moon), and looks kindly upon the Harpers. She is usually seen only from afar, but her song (of unearthly beauty, driving many to tears) is heard whenever she appears. Roleplaying Notes: Eilistraee is a melan¬ choly, moody drow female, a lover of beauty and peace. The evil of most drow banks a burning anger within her, and when her faithful are harmed, that anger is apt to spill out into wild action. It is not her way to act openly, but she often aids creatures she favors (whether they wor¬ ship her or not) in small, immediately practical ways. Eilistraee is happiest when she looks on bards singing or composing, crafts¬ men at work, lovers, or acts of kindness.

....

It is of my opinion that, when you look at the Eilistrae-Vhaeraun Dynamic and how they were treated by Lolth and Corellon, you're looking at a classic Golden Child/Scrape Goat dynamic. This is important to mention here because I do think that's important context within how Eilistraee (the person) see's and understands the world, and where her mind is at when it comes to the perception of her sense of self.

To VASTLY oversimplify about how emotionally abusive family structures work by a lot, when you look at emotionally abusive families with siblings, you tend to find a pattern where one child ends up getting the bulk of the favoritism and affection (The golden child), while the other takes the bulk of the abuse and tends to take a of blame and is seen as being deserving of the abuse (The scrapegoat.) I'll get a little bit more into the specifics of what that means for their relationship in a later post.

Now. Calling her the Golden Child, but I don't think being the Golden Child is strictly a good thing. In a lot of ways, I think a lot of golden children end up very emotionally stilted, and I think you kind of see that in Eilistraee. She HAS to be the perfect one. And she's had this expectation to be The Good One placed on her shoulders since she was young. Golden Children are often blinded to the abuse their siblings face because they themselves are not subjected to the same kind of abuse.

I think you're right in that despite everything, I would consider her defining trait her naivete. And I think the issue with trying to get into that is that people have a very specific idea of what being naive is. Like I think a lot of people associate naivete with people who are very childish and hold themselves with a lot of immaturity, and I don't think that's true. I think Eilistraee holds herself with a lot of dignity and comes across as mature and gentle and soft spoken, and you feel the weight of her presence in a way that you don't realize until she's left.

Naivete is just a lack of wisdom, a lack of having experienced the thing first hand. Eilistraee grew up very sheltered. She was shielded from the worst of her mothers abuse as a result of being her fathers favorite. Lolth doesn't give her the same attention she gives Vhaeraun (Which is good, largely, considering what her attention entails), she disregards Eilistraee as foolish and cowardly and weak, so she doesn't bother at all. That she was so sheltered is the source of both her empathy and her blindness. She knows the sight of abuse, but I don't think she's experienced abuse to the same extent her brother has, let alone the people in her church have. So she doesn't understand it to the same degree.

Now. The other thing about Eilistraee is that I don't actually think she's as open as she implies she is. She's always come across to me as someone who's very guarded. On one hand, she's walking around nude and supposedly that's representative of the vulnerability she has. But on the other hand, she doesn't reveal a lot, does she? She doesn't change. While Eilistraee is explicitly involved in her followers lives in a way that a lot of non-drow gods aren't, she's involved in a very passive way. She listens to them. Maybe she'll bless them with a dance. She'll send signs of her pleasure and displeasure, and she'll help them in immediate, practical ways.

But do any of her followers know her? Do WE know her? We know Vhaeraun. We know his personality. But what we're given of Eilistraee is what she likes and how she feels. It points to this very careful presence she makes of herself.

And that's why exploring the flaws of her church is so important. She wants to give her followers freewill, she wants to be the "good" one that doesn't influence them and lets them make their own choices. But... I'm going to steal a quote from @pansythoughts who I ran my thoughts about this by before typing it up, and I think that they articulated this really well.

"[...] She’s worshipped and revered and symbolic but because she didn’t involve herself in the running of things people mistook that as she shouldn’t be involved or shouldnt be involved (“don’t concern our lady with such trivial things, she shouldn’t be bothered, it makes her so sad”) that that for a long time enabled a lot of abuse to run rampant under eilistraee’s nose. By becoming impersonal she’s removed her real thoughts from her church in the name of being impartial. But it’s not actually helping [...]"

So Eilistraee hits this weird note of... She seems to think that being impersonal is what makes her good, but in being impersonal, she enabled the culture in her church to get as bad as it did. It's the intent over action mentality. It's the separation of herself from her people.

....

Now. I also want establish. I don't think Eilistraee holds the same views as her church with it comes to how a lot of men are treated. All text points to the fact she loves men as much as she does woman, just as she does any other race (Though I said I wouldn't quote it too much, her prioritizing woman to dismantle her brothers power in evermeet should at least get a passing mention, I put that in the same spot as I put Vhaeraun trying to kill her in that it feels like she was doing that as an uncomfortable means to an end. She sincerely see's him an evil, and if that is what she had to do to get him out of power then so be it. And then it spiraled)

In rare circumstances, males who worship Eilistraee-or beings without any priest powers who work to further Eilistraee's aims and need her visible blessing and support (or just some light)- will temporarily manifest moonfire (see Eitistroee's moonfire below). Such manifestations are at the will of the goddess; the lucky recipient has no control over the duration, intensity, and location of the radiance

Eilistraee to me feels like someone deeply rooted in idealism, and romanticism, and fantasy. She loves the arts. She loves dance, and music, and romance and love of all kinds. She loves the fantasy of lovers.

And this goes over to her wider views. She likes the fantasy of what she thinks good drow can be, and I think she lives in that fantasy and denies the lived reality of what a lot of her people have been through, and the biases they hold as a result of what they've been through.

But, she's not comfortable with what drow are now, because what drow are now are what her mother and her brother made of them. And she views both as evil, and the same kind of even. She explicitly views them as people that are fallen and broken, because they're not good.

Only in recent centuries has Eilistraee's faith regained a small amount of prominence in Faerun, as the Dark Maiden seeks to lead the fallen drow back to the long-forsaken light.

And they're not good and they can't be good, because there is an aesthetic to good for DnD and thus there is an aesthetic to good for her. And inevitably, when theres an Aesthetic to good, when you only view good through a certain framework and you're only able to understand good through the lens of people that fulfill a certain amount of requirements, there are going to be those who are left behind not because they're not good, but because they can't meet that aesthetic. They can't change, or don't want to. And there is going to be abuse that slips through the cracks because the good goes unquestioned.

Pulling another quote from pansythoughts

[...] And to get metatextual, I think that’s why a lot of people miss the implied problems of her church too, besides the insidious nature of bio-essentialism. The narrative context of the drow is horror. It’s meant to be antagonistic and horrifying to players of the game. So of course the thing from that culture rejecting that culture completely looks “good”

To accept that her church needs to change is to accept that maybe, she wasn't good.

Because. If she's not the good one, then what is she...?

...

Despite you mentioning them, I also didn't really touch on her temper and melancholy all that much here. I do actually think that's like. A defining part of her character.

I think it's deeply telling that one of the few times she's mentioned as manifesting as an avatar is explicitly in defense of her people. She doesn't know how to approach them to celebrate with them ("The Dark Maiden seldom takes a direct hand in the affairs of mortals, but she sometimes appears in the midst of a dance in her honor, leaping amid the flames of the feast unharmed") And she's heard of seen in the distance more then she's directly engaging ("Most worshipers see Eilistraee only from afar, perched on a hillock or battlement, silver hair streaming out behind her. She appears to show her favor or blessing and often rallies or heartens creatures by causing a high, far-off hunting horn call to beheard.")

But she WILL appear to defend her worshipers. And she IS deeply concerned with defending those coming out of the underdark.

I don't know. I don't have canon proof of this one, but I do think that Eilistraee is a deeply lonely person. Despite having friends in other pantheons such as Mystra, she feels isolated in the image she has to uphold. She can't connect with her followers, she's left with this view that most of her family is evil, or has rejected her for leaving. Of course she carries herself with grief. Of course she doesn't know how to be anything other than "The good one."

[hollytree33]

I’m back!!

[gregmarriage]

will always have to begrudgingly remember (and hate the fact) that one must find joy in the small things in life, and live in the present

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Yandere kidnapper x reader

(He's hot...)

You jolt as thunder struck .You have always been afraid of thunder. The sudden intense noise always puts you on edge. However it's not just the volume, it’s the way it breaks the silence and reminds you shits can always happen the moment you least expect.

But there's nothing more terrifying than this monstrous man embracing you like there's no tomorrow.

His big arm wrap tightly around your waist while the other roams freely around other parts of your body. Lips attacking your neck groaning in satisfaction.

He always does this, he never gets sick of it. In fact it almost felt like hes addicted. Furthermore, he doesn't even wear a t-shirt around you, you once questioned him about this.

"Y/n your my lover, besides it helps me feel you more. Fucking clothes just get in the way baby." He responded with care as he kissed your cheeks.

He always whispers sweet things about you, how much he loves you and not just for your body but the whole you,how you're so perfect, your personality being the sweetest. How beautiful you are and how he would die and kill for you.

He always makes time for you. No matter how busy he is, just one word from you and he'll set it all aside just to spend time with you. He always takes care of you, give your needs and wants, you see you didn't even need to lift a finger, you just need to depend on him.

He truly is the best man. Any girl would love to have him, you too.... to be honest. It would all be so sweet. If....If he didn't kidnapped you months ago and forced you to stay with him.

He has brought you into a huge mansion in the woods with no human insight. 'I want us to be together with no interruption , others can go and fuck themselves. Now come here and gimme my morning kiss' you remembered him say once.

At first you tried to escape, but how could you , the windows from your room are way too high to jump and he doesn't even let you out of this stupid bedroom. So you started behaving to gain his trust until you're allowed to roam outside this room.

Your hardwork pays off , he starts trusting you more, you begin to wander around the mansion, taking notes inside your head, thinking ways for your escape.

--------------

You gradually felt him asleep beside you. You sighed in relief. The sleeping pills have worked. Now's your chance, you have waited for so long for this moment.

You slowly began to separate his arms around you. Careful not to wake him up. You felt your breath stopped for a moment as he groaned.

"Y/n " brows knit together, calling you in his sleep. Goodness even in his sleep, he probably held you captive too.

You successfully detached his arms , heart beating fast as you hurriedly got up and quietly like a mouse ran through the door , you didn't look back you just closed the door hoping not to make a sound.

You ran downstairs adrenaline rush through your veins. When you see the main door you dash as if your life depends on it, well because it did.

You twist the knob.....Locked. How could you be so stupid, of course he would lock it, especially at night. You tried to break the door but it was useless. You ran through the other direction, you would try to get out of the other doors you always saw when you're wandering around.

"Fuck my life" you cursed, it's not working, this was the 8th door you tried yet you couldn't get out.

"Y/n ! Sweetheart where are you ? ! " You knew that deep voice very well, it's him. How could he have woken up so fast?!

Tears began to form your eyes . Everything's useless now. You started to blame yourself. If only you're strong enough. This wouldn't have happened. But you knew very well you couldn't do anything about it.

He stormed inside the room with the same window you were planning to use as an escape route. You shrieked as he once again, wrapped around you like a snake.

"Baby why are you always running away from me?"

"I-i am sorry, i di-"

"Shh.... there there i forgive you...I love you too much to even get mad at you" he cooed like he was talking to a baby , kissing your hair gently.

"But I sure am fucking pissed about how you lied straight to my damn face when you said you weren't gonna run away baby" he bit your neck hard as you tremble in fear.

He picks you up still squeezing you tight. "Now... let's go to our bedroom and make up for it"

[urlocalmagicalcat]

really long rant (happy rant) in the tags, mostly towards @synthetic-lavender /vpos

romance repulsed aros and romance favourable aros are both cool and valid but because i never see anything about us: shoutout to romance indifferent aros. romance neutral aros. aros who just couldn't care less. aros who have a conflicted relationship with romance. aros who are fine with romance in some contexts but not in others. aros who don't mind romance when it's not amatonormativity being shoved down their throats. aros who haven't yet figured out their feelings about romance. aros to whom romance is Just Something That Exists. y'all are rad as hell and it's okay not to 'pick a side'!!

[cheftsunoda]

Hiii, I had this idea for Kimi where the reader is the youngest Leclerc, 18, but the Leclercs don't see her, they ignore her. Still, she's been dating Kimi for like a year (she moved to Italy when she was younger with her godparents or something), and I was wondering if you can make it like a 2-3 parts??

he put me first — ka12

smau + blurbs

kimi antonelli x !estranged leclerc sister reader

yn always fell on the back burner for her family, never truly seen. her father was the only one who ever made her feel like she mattered. when he passed, the distance between her and her siblings—charles, arthur, lorenzo—only grew wider. she felt more like a shadow than a sister. desperate to escape the weight of monaco and the name that never really felt like hers, she left for italy with nothing but a suitcase and a tearful phone call to her godparents. that was five years ago.

a year into her new life in bologna, she met a boy. kimi antonelli—soft-spoken, kind-eyed, and utterly unlike anyone she’d ever known. they were just kids when they met, but something about him felt like home. they’ve been inseparable ever since. now, five years later, both 18 years old, yn and kimi have been together for three years. he’s the only person who’s ever truly seen her. but everything changes when kimi is offered a spot in formula 1. because standing on that grid? is her brother. and kimi has no idea who she really is.

(a/n) : amazing idea anon! part two is already finished and will be posted in a few hours. i wasn’t sure if you wanted a happy or sad ending so i wrote both :)

fc : darianka on ig

part two here

—

5 years ago…(Before YN privates her instagram and goes radio silent.) (age 13 1/2)

yn_leclerc

57,089 likes.

yn_leclerc : au revoir pour toujours (goodbye forever)

—

username00 : hope this poor girl finds peace wherever she ends up

username15 : her family never deserved her truly and she must be so upset about the passing of her father

username20 : is she leaving monaco fully?

username17 : is this leclerc’s little sister??

username10 : yes

username17 : starting his f1 debut with family drama yikessss

username50 : grief is hard especially when you don’t have a good support system. we love you, yn.

liked by yn_leclerc

username11 : y’all act like this is so out of left field when none of the leclerc’s acknowledge her publicly and charles was legit asked about his family in an interview and said he had ‘two brothers’. I hope this poor girl heals.

username22 : the poor thing just lost her father a year ago and has been living in agony ever since. she seemed like she had no one to lean on.

—

yn_leclerc has unfollowed charles_leclerc

yn_leclerc has unfollowed arthur_leclerc

yn_leclerc has unfollowed lorenzotl

yn_leclerc has unfollowed leclerc_pascale

yn_leclerc has made her account private.

yn_leclerc is now its_yn on instagram.

—

3 months later

charles_leclerc has requested to follow you.

Block? Account is now blocked.

—

The house was quiet. Too quiet. No footsteps in the hallway. No one calling my name. Just the ticking of the clock above the kitchen sink and the sound of my own breath as I stood by the door, suitcase in hand, trying not to shake. I looked around one last time. The living room still had the blanket folded the way Papa used to do it. There were photos of us smiling—when I was younger, when I thought we were happy, before the silence swallowed everything after he was gone.

No one had come to stop me. Not Charles, not Arthur, not Lorenzo. I don’t even know if they noticed I was leaving. Or maybe they did and just thought I’d come back like the youngest sibling who didn’t know any better. But this time is much different.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from my godmother: “We’ll be at the airport in Bologna when you land, darling. We’re so glad you called.”

That was the only text I’d gotten all day. The car ride to the airport was a blur—buildings passing by like ghosts, my reflection in the window looking pale and unfamiliar. I clutched Papa’s old scarf the entire ride, fingers curled tight around the soft wool, as if holding on to it meant I wasn’t fully leaving him behind. When I reached my gate, I felt something shift. Not relief. Not excitement. Just this aching hollow where my home used to be. Boarding was called. I stood. Walked. Didn’t look back.

As I sat by the window and the plane began to taxi down the runway, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The tears came quietly, without a warning—just like the grief did. Just like the loneliness that had made a home inside me the day they stopped looking at me the way he used to.

I pressed my forehead to the cold glass and whispered, “au revoir, Papa.”

And I left. Forever. Or so I thought.

—

The air in Bologna was different. Warmer, softer, like it wasn’t trying to weigh me down. The sun stretched low across the sky as I stepped out of the airport, suitcase dragging behind me, heart heavier than anything I was carrying.

My godmother spotted me first. She didn’t say anything right away—just pulled me into a hug, the kind of hug that said I know you’re not ready to talk, but I’m here when you are. I clung to her like I was drowning.

The drive to their home was quiet. The roads curved through terracotta buildings and narrow alleys lined with vines and shutters and chipped paint that somehow looked like art. Everything felt old, but in a comforting way. Like maybe it had survived too much and was still standing anyway.

Their house was small and warm and smelled like garlic and old books. My room overlooked a garden with a lemon tree and chipped flower pots and two cats who seemed entirely uninterested in my arrival.

I set my suitcase down and sat on the edge of the bed. Everything was quiet again—but this time, it didn’t feel suffocating. Just… unfamiliar. I checked my phone. Nothing. I told myself it was the time difference. That maybe Charles was racing. That Arthur was busy with training. That Lorenzo had work. That someone—anyone—was thinking about me. But the silence didn’t change.

That first night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept staring at the screen, refreshing my messages. Waiting. Hoping. A stupid part of me thought I’d hear a knock at the door. That someone would get on a plane. That I’d wake up to a missed call or a message that said “Come home.”

But it never came. And deep down, I already knew it wouldn’t.

So I turned off my phone. Slipped under the unfamiliar sheets. And let the sound of Bologna—distant voices, the creak of old floorboards, a cat meowing in the courtyard—slowly lull me into something close to peace.

For the first time in a long time… I didn’t feel like a burden. Just a girl with a second chance.

—

I didn’t want to go. My godfather insisted I needed “fresh air and new faces.” I would’ve preferred to stay hidden in my room, curled up with a book or pretending I wasn’t still checking my phone every hour. But he was persistent in the gentle way only he could be — and before I knew it, I was being walked down the stone path to a small karting track just outside the city.

It smelled like rubber and oil and sun-warmed concrete. I hated it immediately. It reminded me of home — not the home I was trying to forget, but the one I couldn’t stop missing. There were a few kids scattered around, helmets under their arms, laughing and comparing lap times. I hovered awkwardly near the fence, hands in my sleeves, trying not to make eye contact. That’s when I saw him.

He wasn’t loud like the others. He was off to the side, squatting next to a kart with grease on his fingers and a serious look on his face. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, curls messy under the weight of the sun. He glanced up at me. Just once. And then again — longer this time. Not in a curious, who’s the new girl kind of way. But softer. Like he already knew I didn’t want to be there. He wiped his hands on his suit and walked over, quiet steps across the pavement.

“You don’t like racing?” he asked, his Italian smooth but slow. Like he was trying not to scare me off.

I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

He nodded like he understood more than he should for a boy his age. “I don’t like people watching me when I drive.”

I blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be used to that?”

He shrugged back. “I race better when no one’s expecting anything from me.”

I looked at him then — really looked. And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel like I was about to cry.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Kimi,” he said simply. “You?”

“YN.”

He smiled, just barely. “You look like you needed someone to talk to.”

I didn’t say anything. But I stayed. And so did he. We sat by the fence for the rest of the afternoon — not saying much, just watching the karts fly by. He offered me half of his water bottle and didn’t ask why my eyes looked red or why I flinched every time my phone buzzed. He just… stayed. And that was enough.

—

a few months later

His room always felt lived in. Not messy, just… honest. Trophies tucked into corners like he forgot to show them off, books stacked sideways on a shelf, a blanket half-hanging off the bed from when we’d watched a movie the night before and fallen asleep mid-scene. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, picking at the frayed end of the rug. Kimi lay on his stomach across the bed, chin resting on his arm, eyes lazily watching me in that calm, patient way of his.

“Do you ever miss home?” he asked quietly, out of nowhere.

I froze for a second. Then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Not really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound true.”

I didn’t answer. He didn’t push. Just waited, the silence stretching softly between us, like it always did when he sensed I had something I was trying not to say.

“I used to think it was normal,” I said finally. “To feel invisible.”

His expression didn’t change, but he sat up, like my voice had shifted something.

“They were busy. All the time. With important things. Big things. I was just… there. A shadow in the background. Quiet, easy to forget.” My fingers curled around the edge of the rug. “The only one who really noticed me was my dad.”

Kimi’s brows furrowed slightly. Still quiet.

“He made me feel like I wasn’t just an accident. He remembered things, small things. He showed up. He listened. And then… he was gone.” My throat tightened. “After that, it was like I stopped existing to them.”

I could feel my eyes sting but I didn’t let the tears fall. Not yet.

“I kept waiting for someone to knock on my door. To ask if I was okay. To notice I was breaking. But no one did. So I left.”

Kimi didn’t say a word. Just leaned down and passed me one of his racing gloves like it was a stress ball. I took it without thinking, gripping it tightly in my hands.

“I thought they’d message. Call. Ask me to come back. But they didn’t.” My voice cracked, just once. “They never did.”

A long beat passed. And then he said softly, “They don’t deserve you.”

I looked up at him, startled.

“I mean it,” he said, eyes steady and a little sad. “Whoever—wherever they are… they don’t deserve you.”

And that was the thing about Kimi. He never needed all the details to understand exactly what I meant. He slid off the bed and sat beside me on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t say I’m sorry, or It’ll get better, or You should call them. He just sat there — present, quiet, and unwavering. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone had chosen me. Not because of a name, or a title, or an obligation. Just… me.

—

The days had started feeling softer. Lighter. I wasn’t exactly happy — not yet — but I was starting to breathe again. I saw Kimi almost every day. We didn’t always talk much, but it didn’t matter. There was comfort in his silence. In the way he didn’t ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer. In the way he made space for me without trying to fix me. That night, it was raining. Not a thunderstorm — just a steady, quiet drizzle. We’d been watching a movie on the old TV in his living room, but we both lost interest halfway through. Now we were just sitting in front of the window, side by side on the floor, watching raindrops slide down the glass. His shoulder brushed mine. Not on purpose. Not entirely on accident either.

“You seem… lighter lately,” he said after a long stretch of quiet.

I looked down at my hands. “I guess I am.”

He nodded like he already knew that. Like he could feel it in the way I laughed a little easier. Like he saw the part of me that was slowly, finally, healing. I glanced at him. His curls were damp from earlier, still soft and sticking to his forehead. He had that look again — thoughtful, half-serious, like he was about to say something important but didn’t know how.

“Do you ever think about…” I started, then stopped.

He tilted his head. “About what?”

I swallowed. “Us.”

There was a pause, long enough that I thought maybe I’d ruined everything.

“All the time.”

My breath caught. He looked at me — really looked at me. “But I didn’t want to push. I didn’t know if you were ready.”

I blinked hard, my throat tightening. “I don’t know if I am. Not really. But I want to be. With you.”

He reached out slowly, giving me the space to move back. I didn’t. His fingers brushed mine, then threaded through them like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, gently — so gently I almost thought I imagined it — he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t fireworks or heat or any of the things I thought a first kiss had to be. It was soft. Slow. Careful. It was safe.

When we pulled apart, he didn’t say anything right away. Just rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “You don’t have to run anymore.”

And for the first time in years, I believed that.

—

3 years ago (private IG) (age 15)

its_yn

liked by kimi.antonelli and 428 others.

its_yn : so proud of my boy <3

—

view 25 comments.

kimi.antonelli : mia bella regazza. ti amo così tanto ❤️ (my pretty girl. love you so much)

liked by its_yn

its_yn : je t’aime ma chérie

yourbff : so cute 😊

liked by its_yn

username22 : so she is missing for two years and pops back up with some random prema guy. hm

username17 : let her be. its clear they didn’t care for her. she has a new life.

liked by its_yn

username8 : she has grown so much in just two years, beautiful girl.

liked by its_yn

—

3 years ago (Age 15)

The paddock was buzzing with energy. People rushing around, shouting in Italian, cameras flashing. I stayed close to Kimi’s side, his hand occasionally brushing mine, grounding me. He introduced me to a few mechanics and an engineer, but I barely registered their names. My stomach was already tight. Then I saw him. It was just a glimpse — the back of his head at first, the familiar tilt of his shoulders as he laughed with someone near the Prema hospitality area. My heart stopped. Arthur.

I hadn’t seen him in two years. I didn’t even know he was racing for Prema now. My eyes locked onto him like a ghost had walked into the room. He hadn’t changed much. Taller, maybe. Sharper around the edges. But still him. He turned a little — not toward me, just enough for me to catch his profile — and I froze. My breath vanished. My chest started to cave in. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I turned sharply and pushed through the crowd, barely hearing Kimi call after me.

I found a quiet spot behind one of the team trucks, crouched down and pressed my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing. Too fast. Too loud. I didn’t know if it was fear or guilt or some horrible mix of both, but the world was spinning.

A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps approach — soft, careful ones. Kimi didn’t say anything. He just sat beside me on the concrete, close but not touching.

After a moment, he offered me his water bottle and looked at me gently. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “But I’m here if you ever want to.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Not because I was sad — but because he never asked for more than I could give. Never pushed. Never demanded an explanation or a name. He just waited.

“I didn’t know that someone I used to know would be here,” I whispered after a long while.

Kimi nodded once. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

I wiped my face on my sleeve and stared down at my hands. “I thought I was far enough away. That I could breathe here.”

“You still can,” he said, soft but firm. “You’re safe. I promise.”

He wrapped me into him and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head softly humming into my ear.

—

I hadn’t planned on staying.

After seeing Arthur, every instinct in my body told me to disappear — to slip away before he could look up and really see me. But then Kimi found me behind the truck and told me quietly, “My family’s here. Come sit with them, yeah? I think you need them today.”

He was right.

So now I sat in the Prema grandstand with Kimi’s little sister curled up beside me, legs swinging, playing with the bracelets on my wrist. His mother had tucked a handkerchief into my palm and told me, “You look pale, sweetheart. You need sugar,” before pressing a warm piece of cake into my hand from her bag.

They always treated me like I belonged — like I wasn’t this strange, fractured thing still learning how to be whole. Kimi’s father stood beside us, arms crossed, watching the track like a general watching his son go to war. The cars screamed past us in blurs of color, and every time Kimi’s flashed by, his sister would squeal and clap, and I couldn’t help but smile. Even through the noise, the nerves, the ache in my chest — I smiled. Until I saw the flash of red out of the corner of my eye. Arthur. He was walking along the lower row, near the barricades, clearly heading toward the engineers and team leads. A pass swung around his neck. He hadn’t noticed me — yet — but the sight of him this close sent a bolt of ice straight through my chest. I sat up straighter, turned my head slightly, trying to hide without drawing attention. My breathing quickened. Kimi’s father noticed instantly. He didn’t say anything. Just looked down at me for a half-second, eyes sharp and knowing, before taking a small step forward and positioning himself directly in front of me — calm, casual, like it was coincidence.

But I knew it wasn’t. He stood just enough in Arthur’s line of sight to shield me completely. He didn’t even glance back. Just crossed his arms and watched the race again like nothing was wrong. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Not from fear this time — but from something deeper. Something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time. Protected. Accepted.

The little girl beside me leaned into my shoulder and said, “Papa says Kimi drives best when you’re watching.”

I blinked fast and gave her a watery smile. “I think so too.”

Arthur passed by without noticing me. And I exhaled. Kimi’s father gave the smallest nod without looking back — a silent I’ve got you. And for the first time since I ran away from my old life, I didn’t feel like I was running anymore.

—

present day

The Antonelli kitchen felt like the safest place in the world. It smelled like basil, fresh dough, and melted cheese. Kimi’s mom was humming as she shaped dough into little hearts, laughing every time her kimi threw flour in the air like confetti. His dad was outside with the grill, pretending to be a world-renowned chef. Maggie was sat on the couch on her iPad, picking out what she thought I should wear on my first magazine cover. And I was leaned against the counter next to Kimi, our elbows brushing, my cheeks still warm from all the attention. They were celebrating me. Me — the girl who once ran away in silence. Me— the girl who was just picked up by one of the biggest model agencies in the world.

“Model status suits you,” Kimi teased, reaching over to flick a piece of mozzarella off my shirt. “Soon you’ll be too cool to sit at my kitchen table.”

I snorted. “Right, because Vogue’s dying for a girl who cries watching dog videos and can’t walk in heels.”

He smirked. “That’s exactly your charm.”

I didn’t respond — not out loud. Just looked at him the way I always did when I didn’t have the words to say thank you for staying. For loving me when I couldn’t love myself. His phone buzzed on the counter. Once. Twice. Then nonstop.

Kimi’s dad poked his head through the back door. “Tesoro, your phone’s vibrating like it owes someone money.”

Kimi chuckled, swiping it up and answering casually.

“Ciao, Kimi speaking…”

Then came the pause. I watched it happen in slow motion — the shift in his voice, his posture, the disbelief spreading across his face like sunlight cracking through clouds.

“Wait—really?” he said, straighter now. “Like… official? For this season?”

The phone slipped from his ear a moment. He looked at me — stunned. Breathless. And then he laughed. Just once. A sharp, stunned sound.

“They want me. Formula 1. I’m in.”

The room exploded. His mom gasped, then started crying. His sister squealed so loud the dog barked. His dad came rushing in, hugging them both, eyes glassy with pride. Kimi turned toward me, beaming, his arms already opening like they always did when the world became too much. And I stepped into them — because I loved him, and he had worked for this his whole life, and nothing in the world could’ve made me prouder.

But behind my smile, a storm was brewing. F1 meant exposure. Paddocks. Media. Faces from a past I’d hidden like a wound. It meant Charles. It meant the life I left behind — the life I never wanted to explain — was about to come crashing into the one I’d built with Kimi. He pulled back slightly, still grinning, forehead pressed to mine. “Can you believe it?”

I nodded. Swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course I can.”

But deep down, I wasn’t sure who I was more afraid of facing — the brothers I’d run from…Or the boy I loved who still didn’t know.

—

twitter!

f1gossipgirls : Let’s get to know our newest rookie— Kimi Antonelli. It was just announced that the 18 year old will be taking Lewis Hamilton’s (big shoes to fill) spot at Mercedes. Born and raised in Bologna, Kimi is the son of racing driver, Marci Antonelli. He has had back to back Direct-Driver European Championships and he won his first title in 2022 F4 Championship with Prema racing. He has been a member of the Mercedes Junior team since 2019. Now— we know what you are all thinking ladies. Does he have a girlfriend? Are we getting a new wag? Short answer being, yes— he does have a girlfriend. 18 year old, YN, who just recently signed with one of the world’s biggest modeling agencies and we do have to say…she is quite gorgeous. Her once-private Instagram account recently went public — and fans immediately noticed Kimi appearing in multiple soft, cozy photos going back years. No tags. No captions. Just vibes. She has also appeared on Kimi’s account many many times. However— F1 fans are clocking something. She looks familiar— with some insisting they’ve seen her around the paddock long before she ever appeared on Kimi’s feed. Let us know what you think below!

view 120,090 comments.

username00 : is this the YN?? like the one we all know.

username20 : WAIT. am i insane or does she look like she could be a leclerc??

username17 : because she is

username20 : huh?

username17 : the leclerc’s have always had a little sister— she was just always left behind. she disappeared shortly after their dad died. guess this is where she was

username15 : my friend is one of the people that still had access to her instagram while it was private and before she deleted all the family stuff. it is most definitely the same yn.

username000 : OMG OMG yn return to the paddock was not on my 2025 bingo card

username7 : this is the drama i needed this season to open with YES MAMA

username11 : wow she has grown up so much. she is stunning. definitely can see those leclerc genes

username0 : her and kimi are so cute omg. they’ve been together since they were 15

this tweet has reached 500k retweets.

—

third person point of view

It was a quiet evening in the Leclerc apartment. The windows were cracked open, letting in the soft hum of the sea below, and the TV played old F2 highlights that neither Charles nor Arthur were really watching. The off-season had given them rare downtime — but lately, neither of them had really known what to do with it.

Arthur was half-scrolling through Instagram, letting the silence settle between them. Then he stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen. His body went still.

“Charles,” he said, voice tight.

Charles didn’t look up. “What?”

“No—Charles. Look.”

Arthur turned the phone toward him. It was a post from a well-known F1 gossip page. The caption wasn’t what caught Charles’s attention, though. It was the photos — grainy at first, then clearer, softer. A girl in a sun-drenched field. On a balcony. Sitting next to Kimi Antonelli, smiling like the world wasn’t heavy anymore. Her smile. Her face. It couldn’t be. But it was.

His breath caught. “No…”

“It’s her,” Arthur whispered. “It’s YN.”

They both stared. It had been five years. Five years since she’d vanished overnight with nothing but a vague message and a suitcase. Five years since they’d called her phone, left angry voicemails, waited by the door. Five years without their little sister. And now here she was.

Not a girl anymore. Not the quiet, overlooked youngest who used to sit at the end of the dinner table, trying not to take up space. She looked like a woman now. Confident. Radiant. Her curls were longer, darker. Her cheekbones sharper. Her eyes… the same, but older. Like they’d seen more than any eighteen-year-old ever should have. Charles swallowed hard, eyes locked on the screen.

“She’s stunning,” he murmured, almost like the words had escaped him before he realized he said them.

Arthur didn’t respond right away. His throat was tight. “She looks… happy.”

Charles nodded slowly. “Yeah. She does.”

Another beat passed.

“She went public,” Arthur added. “Her account. It’s not private anymore. That wasn’t an accident.”

Charles took the phone from him, scrolling carefully through her feed. The soft aesthetics. The little captions. Kimi in the background of nearly every photo, his arm around her waist, his chin on her shoulder.

“She really stayed gone,” Arthur said. “She meant it.”

And it hurt. It shouldn’t have surprised them — not really. But it did. They’d spent so long pretending she’d come back on her own. That time would heal things without them having to face what they’d done — or failed to do. But now, the girl they barely said goodbye to had grown up into someone they didn’t even recognize. Someone who had built a life without them.

“She’s with Kimi,” Charles said, staring down at one of the photos. “She’s been with him a while, I think.”

Arthur looked over. “Do you think he knows who she is?”

Charles shook his head. “If he did, we’d have known a long time ago.”

Silence stretched between them again. Then Arthur said it — the question neither of them had said aloud in years.

“Do you think she hates us?”

Charles stared out the window, jaw tight, eyes glossy.

“I think… she had every right to.”

—

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon was seething. Never had he been so viscerally angry, his temper dangerously towing the tight rope that was his self control. You’d almost been killed. You’d been shot, and you were damn lucky that it hadn’t been fatal.

He found you on the roof later that night, no longer hiding the pain the bullet wound in your side had caused once you thought you were alone. It took all of two seconds of him seeing you hurting like that for him to snap.

“The fuck were you thinking out there, Y/N?!” His voice echoed in the night air, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do please tell me you’ve got a reasonable explanation for what happened.”

“Simon, please just calm down for a minute.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and it only fueled his anger more.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Simon bellowed, his self control rapidly slipping out of his grasp. “You almost fuckin’ died, Y/N!”

Simon hated the way you flinched, hated the way you backed up ever so slightly away from him, but he couldn’t control himself. He had almost lost you.

“I know that, Simon. I know. But I don’t regret what went down.” You forced your voice steady, your eyes not leaving his as you attempted to stand your ground. “I-.”

“You don’t regret almost getting shot? Y/N, you’re not on this team to make reckless decisions. If I knew you’d be making choices like that, I’d have had Price kick you off the team months ago! Almost dying, for what? For what?!” Simon moved closer to you, the red in his vision nearly blinding, and this time you didn’t back away.

“For you, asshole!” You screamed, your hands reaching for Simon’s chest, pushing him as hard as you possibly could. Simon barely moved an inch before you screamed again. “For you! If I hadn’t taken that bullet, you would’ve died!”

Simon’s world stopped in that moment, the red vanishing from his vision, his heart coming to a slow halt in his chest as he absorbed your words. For him?

“He was aiming at you, Simon. If I hadn’t stepped in the way, we would’ve lost you. And I.” You trailed off, unable to look at the hulking man in front of you. “I don’t know, I didn’t hesitate, it was as if it was just instinct for me.”

Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the soft thud thud thud the only thing keeping him grounded. You’d saved him. You’d risked your life to save him.

You, the sweet soldier who always put others first. You, the one who’d always patched him up late at night, laughing at his shitty jokes. You, the one who understood him like nobody else. You, the one person in this godforsaken world that got him to lower the never ending walls within him. You, the one he’d unknowingly loved for years. Saved him.

“I know it was stupid, and if you want to kick me off of the team for it, fine. But I’d do it again.” You threw your hands up in the air, and Simon didn’t miss the way you winced from the pain in your side. “I don’t regret it.”

Simon only stared at you, his eyes betraying none of the inner turmoil that he was currently experiencing.

“I couldn’t lose you, Simon.” Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, your eyes falling on the lower half of his mask. “Not now, not ever. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that bullet hit you.”

Simon’s eyes found yours as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, incapable of moving. For the first time in his life, he truly didn’t know what to say.

He watched as you chewed your bottom lip, your eyes leaving his yet again as you looked down at your feet. God he wishes he could say something, anything, but as always words failed him around you.

“I’ve got to go report in to Price.” You said, slowly turning away from him to face the door. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I’m sorry for causing you to doubt my ability to support the team. Have a good night, lieutenant.”

Watching you turn away from him had finally stirred something within him, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had to make this right.

“Y/N.” Simon found his voice as you reached the roof’s door, causing you to turn to face him. “Wait.”

Your heart practically stopped beating upon finding Simon’s mask discarded, his face now fully bare for you to see. You weren’t sure what you had expected, once you’d finally seen him, but it certainly wasn’t this.

He was simply beautiful. Every scar, every small freckle, dimple, wrinkle had formed his face impeccably well, and you couldn’t help but stare at him as your mind ran completely blank.

You’d fallen for the masked man long ago, his dry humor, loyalty and bravery were something that’d you’d found yourself drawn to. You’d meant what you said to him about not regretting taking a bullet for him. You loved him. And truthfully couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“Now you see me.” Simon breathed, his eyes softening as he watched you take in every inch of his face. He should’ve felt vulnerable, shy even. But he didn’t. Not with you. He wanted you to see him, every imperfect inch of him.

He bared himself to you, let his face and eyes tell you everything he didn’t know how to express with words.

“I’ve always seen you, Simon Riley.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand softly cupped his cheek. “Always.”

And that was all it took for Simon to know he loved you.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ butterfly ♡

♡ Pairing: personal trainer!boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/comfort

♡ Summary: When your boyfriend leaves his phone behind after a cozy morning at home you decide to do something sweet and bring his phone to him at work but an unexpected interaction leaves you questioning yourself and if you truly deserve your place in your relationship.

♡ Word Count: 6.3k

♡ Warnings: some body image insecurities/comments about the reader's body from someone else but plenty of comfort from Mingyu for them, unprotected sex, shower sex, a lil nibbling, lots of kissing, a lil manhandling, no pulling out, a lil nipple play, pet names (baby, sweetie, good girl).

♡ A/N: This is the first fic that I've written in a long, long, long time so I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty at this. I just wanted to write something comforting and sweet for all of my chubby babes out there. I also have to thank @anyamaris for supporting me in writing this and checking in on me so much. I love youuu.

Peace. That’s all Mingyu knows when he’s around you. Even in this moment.

Lost deep in some dream he probably won’t remember, his arms wrapped around you as you snuggle against his bare chest lost in dreams of your own. He’s never felt safer. He’s never felt more at home. Wild horses couldn’t drag him away from this bed that you share together. Nor could his morning alarms that have gone ignored one after the other until his phone seemingly decided he was a lost cause and went back to sleep itself. 

How can you blame him when he was set up for failure to begin with? The sound of rain beating against the window of your 3rd story apartment, drowning out the rest of the world so that it feels as if he’s on a planet of his own. The warmth of the fluffy cotton blankets he’s been swimming in all night, protecting you both from the crisp chill of the early morning. The softness of your body pressed to his, every breath of yours so gentle and sweet. So perfectly timed with his that you’re almost dueting a lullaby, dragging him deeper and deeper into his slumber. He could stay like this all day—snoozing the hours away, blissfully unaware of the fact that he has actual responsibilities—but someone else has other plans. 

The bedroom door creaks open but only barely. Just enough for a chubby orange cat affectionately known as Jellybean to skip her way into the bedroom and fling herself onto the bed. It’s 30 minutes past breakfast time and in her mind she’s withering away. If you two sleep any longer there’ll be nothing left of her to feed. Navigating the mess of blankets, she stops right on Mingyu’s chest, close enough for her fur to tickle your cheek. The cold, pink tip of her nose nudges at Mingyu’s chin. It’s time to wake up. 

“Mingyu, stop, that tickles” you mumble, cuddling closer to him. 

Mingyu shifts in bed, reaching down to stroke your hair, “Babe, are you licking me?” 

His hand comes down onto Jellybean’s back and it occurs to him that the hair he’s feeling isn’t yours. It’s also purring. Tilting his head up, he cracks one eye open to see the hungry little face staring back at him. 

“Bean, what are you doing up here?” he giggles, petting the crown of her head so that her ears perk up. 

You let out a groan, knowing that if the kitty’s on patrol then sleepy time is over. “Come on, you can’t eat your dad.” 

Scooping her into your arms, you force yourself up in bed only for Mingyu to drag you back down. Even half asleep he’s twice as strong as you. Not that you’re complaining. 

“Where are you going?” he pouts, kissing you on the cheek, “I’m not finished with you yet.” Jellybean chirps, pressing a paw to his lips as he comes in for another kiss and Mingyu frowns like a disappointed child. Curved by a cat.

“Cut it out” you say half heartedly, a barely awake smile on your face, “Bean is hungry. Plus you have work today don’t you?” 

Mingyu’s eyes widen in shock. His heart sinks to the floor. It hits him all at once. The realization that he has no clue what time it is when he probably should. He nearly knocks the two of you off the bed as he bolts from the bed, grabbing his phone and staring in complete terror at the sight of the four missed alarms on his lockscreen. The usual glowing, honeyed tone of his skin turns pale as the panic sets in. It’s 7:45am. Work starts in 15 minutes. Fuck. 

“So I guess you’re not eating breakfast” you tease as he tears out of the room, darting to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

A few seconds later he scrambles back in, a toothbrush wedged between his pearly whites. He mumbles something, probably a comment about how you have a smart mouth and you’ll pay for it later, but you can’t take his threats seriously when he’s completely naked running around the bedroom like a chicken with its head cut off.

You try to be respectful to his current struggle, averting your eyes elsewhere, and yet they keep drifting back to the sight of his body. Those well defined arms, those abs you could spend all night running your fingertips across, an ass you could bounce a quarter off of—

Mingyu slips his underwear on, popping the toothbrush out of his mouth, “Am I a piece of meat to you?” 

You nuzzle Jellybean closer to your chest, offended at the audacity of your boyfriend to say such a thing. “Mingyu…”

Crawling back onto the bed, he brings his lips inches away from yours, a flirty grin playing on his them. “I can be a piece of meat to you if you want. I can make time. Just get the brat out of the way and…”

It’s oh so tempting but someone has to be the responsible one and, as much as you hate it, it has to be you. Stroking his cheek, you stare into the prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen and say words that pain you. “Not a chance. You’re already late for work.” 

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, shocked by the amount of restraint you’re showing. “If I’m already late. Why not make it later?”

His hand smooths over the blanket, massaging your plush thigh through the fabric. Now your body’s awakening in more ways than one. You dish out a light slap to his cheek, fighting off the tingle coming over you. “We’ll have time for that later but for now…work.”

Mingyu only stares back at you, devouring you with his gaze, patiently waiting for you to break but you never do. How he finds your stubbornness so annoying and so hot all at the same time is a mystery he’ll never solve. 

“Fine” he groans, giving you a toothpaste laced smooch on the lips before disappearing back into the bathroom. 

As he leaves, you let out a sigh of relief. “Close one, huh, Bean?” 

Turning the poor, starving kitty loose, you drag yourself out of bed and slip into the t-shirt thrown over the back of a nearby chair. You figure if Mingyu has to be productive then so should you. The walk to the kitchen feels eternal. You’re still yawning and rubbing your eyes when you fill Jellybean’s bowl with food, nearly losing your balance as you bend over to set it on the floor.

You consider for a brief second heading to the bathroom to get started on your morning routine but by the sound of it Mingyu’s bouncing off of the walls in there. Figuring it’s best to stay out of the way, you pop open the fridge and set out in search of a breakfast of your own. Having recently gone grocery shopping, the shelves are filled with every delicious food your heart could desire and every single dish requires you to cook. 

“Why does everything need to be cooked?” you whine, head thrown back in agony. “I don’t wanna.” 

Mingyu flies past you, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter, “Then don’t. Order out.”

“I thought we weren’t ordering out. Saving money and all that.”

“You can use my card. Just order the food, okay?” 

You stand there in silence staring into the void, hearing him but too lost in thought to acknowledge it. The ingredients in the fridge stare back at you. A useless array of items if nothing’s done with them. Mingyu slaps you on the butt. The quickest way he knows to snap you out of it. 

“Hey!” you squeal, spinning around to slap his hand away. 

Flinging the refrigerator door closed, he pushes you up against it, sweeping you into a kiss much deeper than the last. Not as tinged in toothpaste but more minty than you’re used to still. “Order the food” he mumbles, trailing kisses down your neck, “Promise.” His hands slip beneath your shirt, delighting in the plushness of your lovehandles. He’s getting himself started again. He probably shouldn’t but he can't help it. He never can with you. 

His palms are cold, sending a chill up your spine that makes you arch into him. “I promise” you relent, knowing you’re in no position not to give in. 

Giving your body one last squeeze, he swirls his tongue around yours, snatching himself away just as you’re really getting into it. “You said ‘later’, remember?” he teases, heading for the door. 

Picking up a nearby spatula, you wind your arm back in his direction. “I could throw this at you!” Your aim is immaculate. You have full faith in your abilities. Too bad Mingyu’s shoes are on and he’s already halfway out the door by the time you make up your mind to do it or not. 

“Love you!” he shouts over his shoulder, disappearing into the hallway, leaving you defeated and too horny for 7AM in the morning. 

“Love you too” you huff, tossing the spatula back onto the counter. You’ll get him when he gets home or he’ll get you. That second one doesn’t sound so bad actually.

Sparing another glance at what’s in the fridge, you abandon any thought of financial responsibility and make your way back to the bedroom in search of your phone. Jellybean pays you no mind as you pass. Her food has been secured. You’re on your own. Turning back into your bedroom, you spot a phone at the foot of the bed. You scoop it up, flopping back down onto the bed. You nearly melt into the comfort of it, contemplating just going back to sleep and forgoing breakfast altogether but you know you can’t. You promised Mingyu afterall.

There’s just one problem. You can’t unlock your phone. Tapping in the code, you frown as the phone rejects it. It’s fine. Maybe you put it in wrong. You did just wake up. Putting the numbers in again, slower this time, you’re met with the same result. Incorrect. Then you notice it. This phone’s wider than yours and thicker too. That isn’t even your lockscreen. 

“Shit! Mingyu!”

Phone in hand, you race out of the bedroom and into the living room as fast as your legs will carry you. You push the window nearest to you open with every intent of screaming his name out at the top of your lungs—he always parks his car across the street in perfect shouting distance—but it’s no use. His car’s already gone.

Without thinking, you scurry back into the bedroom and hop into a pair of sweatpants. You pay no mind to the messy state of your hair or the mismatched rain boots that you throw on. Breathless, you race out of the door, car keys in hand, to catch up to your boyfriend. Two minutes ago you were threatening to throw a spatula at his head. Now you’re dropping everything to make sure your baby has his phone. 

Ah, romance. 

It’s not that you don’t know where your boyfriend works. 

It’s more so that you only have a vague idea of where your boyfriend works. You know that it’s some super nice gym tucked away on a quiet street downtown, somewhere in the general vicinity of a bookstore. Or was it a thrift store? A thrift store that sells books? He’s driven you past it a few times when the two of you were headed out for dinner with friends but you’ve never actually been there. Had you considered that before you left the house you might’ve just waited for him to double back for his phone but knowing your boyfriend he wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. 

Thankfully you didn’t get yourself completely lost. You recognized a few things here and there. Not enough to keep you from wasting a half hour driving in circles but enough to find it eventually. An unintended perk of  having wasted so much time is the current absence of rain. The clouds are clearing up, tiny slivers of sunshine breaking through as you push your way into the sleek air conditioned gym.

With all its shiny silver decor and glowing white accent lights everything here feels so sterile. The aesthetic is definitely clean. Almost medical in a way. On the walls are posters with barely dressed, muscular figures posing proudly on them. Motivational words paint the bottom of them. 

No excuses. 

Work harder.

Smile. Sweat. Repeat. 

You hear the faint sound of a 2000’s pop mix streaming from speakers strung high in each corner. In the distance there’s the thud of sneakers hitting a treadmill at full speed. Clearly this playlist has someone going hard. Good for them. You can’t say that you’ve ever been a gym girl. It’s never been your thing.

Honestly, when you first met Mingyu it was one of your biggest insecurities. A personal trainer who spends all of his time at a gym and a chubby girl who doesn’t even have a membership. What could you possibly have in common? As it turns out, everything. Well, almost everything. Mingyu never made you feel weird about it but, catching your reflection in a nearby mirror, you remember why you did. 

Most of the time you feel secure. Mingyu makes sure that you do. But there are other times, like now, that you question what exactly he’s doing with you. Fresh out of bed in your house clothes, wedged between “Sweat Is Just Fat Crying” and “No Days Off”, you feel utterly unfit to be here. 

“Um, excuse me, can I help you with something?” the receptionist calls out to you. 

“I—uh—” you stutter, blinking yourself back down to earth. Straightening yourself up a bit, you shyly approach the front desk and the drop dead gorgeous girl who runs it. 

In her expensive workout gear and her high slicked back ponytail, she’s the tiniest bubbliest thing you’ve ever seen. Her name tag reads “Lexi” and truly, what else would her name be? 

“Can I help you?” she repeats, twirling a gym branded pen around her fingers. She looks at you curiously. She’s smiling from ear to ear but you can feel her judgement...or is it all in your head? 

“Yes” you manage to get out, shrinking into yourself more and more by the second, “I’m looking for Kim Mingyu.” 

“Oh!” She seems thrilled at the sound of his name, “One second.” 

Swiveling around in her chair, she picks up the phone and clicks the button for the intercom. “Mingyu to the front desk please. Mingyu to the front desk.” Hanging the phone up, she turns her attention back to you. “He’ll be up in a second. So, have you been here before?”

“Aah, no. I haven’t—”

“First timer? Slay queen. It’s never too late to make a change.”

“Well, I’m not here for—”

“You’re gonna love, Mingyu. He’s great really. He’ll have all that extra weight off of you just like that.” 

She snaps her fingers. Poof. Magic. Chubby girl be gone.

“I’m actually—”

“And don’t tell him I said this…” she leans forward to whisper, a secret between two girls, “He’s, like, super hot. If getting in shape means getting a guy like that what other motivation do you need, am I right?” 

You woke up this morning feeling so nice. Loved. Desirable. How can all of that change so quickly? 

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Mingyu asks, freeing you from the smothering confines of this conversation. He appears around one of the corners, pulling you into a bear hug, “Everything okay?” 

“Baby?”  You catch the receptionist mouthing to herself. For her it’s the shock of the year. Of the century even. 

“Mmhmm” you nod, using what minimal free space you have to hold his phone up, “You forgot this.” 

“Oh my god, thank you. You drove all the way here for me?” Mingyu’s face lights up enough to blind you to the confused expression on your new friend Lexi’s face. Almost. 

“You’re the sweetest thing ever, you know that?” he gushes, smushing your cheeks together and kissing you all over your face. 

“Gyu, cut it out, there’s people around” you giggle, wiggling in his grasp. 

After a few more kisses he turns you loose, taking his phone and shoving it down into his pocket. “Now that you’re here, you wanna come meet my coworkers?”

That wasn’t a question. It was more of a command. You wanna come meet my coworkers? You’re gonna come meet my coworkers. Taking your hand, he’s got his heart set on dragging you to the back, but you resist, putting your full weight into staying right where you are. 

“I forgot. I have some errands to run.” You’re proud of yourself for thinking quickly on your feet. 

Mingyu turns to you, confused. “Errands? What errands? I thought today was ‘bedrot’ day. You even sang the celebratory ‘bedrot’ song last night.” 

You just laugh him off, gently running your hand along his bicep. “Well, ya know, a girl can’t bedrot forever.” Looking around the gym you see another poster. Another slogan. “No days off, right?” 

Unimpressed with your regurgitation of some cliche quote you saw on the gym wall, Mingyu narrows his eyes at you, more suspicious than ever. 

“Baby, I’m serious” you say, doubling down on your lie, “I’d love to meet them but I really do have to go. Another time?” 

The thought of meeting his coworkers makes you nauseous. The idea of what they’d think of you—of you two together—is enough to make you want to evaporate. What’s even worse, despite your insecurities, is the idea of Mingyu being upset with you. You give him the puppy dog eyes, the hardest thing for him to resist, and he melts that instant. 

“It’s okay, sweetie. Do what you need to do” he smiles and relief washes over you, “They actually invited me out for drinks tonight so you can come too, right?” Mingyu looks so hopeful, so sickeningly adorable. How dare he.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to look happy about the trap you’ve fallen into. “Right. Sure. Drinks. Tonight.” 

A delighted Mingyu gives you another hug and a quick kiss. “Good and thank you again. I owe you” he winks and you wave goodbye, watching as he heads back to work and leaves you with the unrelenting stare you’ve been trying to avoid this whole time. 

“Have a nice day” you mumble, scurrying back towards the front door. 

Something is said behind you. The stiff, uncomfortable farewell of a person who realized that they’ve just said all of the wrong things. Even if she were to apologize now it wouldn’t matter. By the time you hop back into your car you’re already spiraling. Any thoughts about grabbing breakfast are pushed to the farthest reaches of your mind. You don’t wanna eat. You certainly don’t wanna go out for drinks later. All you want is to pick up the pieces of your shattered self-confidence but they’re scattered all over the floor of that gym and there’s just no way you’re going back for them.

Bedrot?

No, couch rot, actually. You aren’t sure if that’s a thing. If not, you’re pioneering it. The queen of couch rotting. With the exception of feeding Jellybean her dinner and a few quick trips to the bathroom, you haven’t left your spot on the couch all day. It’s almost 6PM. Not that you’d know the exact time. You haven’t so much as glanced at your phone since you got in. Your only hint of the hours having passed by is the arrival of dusk quietly creeping in beyond your curtains.

Draped across the couch, you stare at the TV as scenes of a show you’re hardly watching flash on the screen. You’ve cried, you’ve slept, you’ve cried again. When you’re feeling down a couple of naps typically do the trick. They make you forget all about the problem, if only for a little bit, but how can you forget the problem when you can’t stop wondering if you’re it. Is it really such a hard thing to imagine? That Mingyu could be your boyfriend and not your trainer? Is it really such a stretch of the imagination? 

“If getting in shape means getting a guy like that what other motivation do you need, am I right?”

Does everyone think that? That to earn someone like your boyfriend you need to get in shape? Get thinner? The possibility weighs you down like an anchor, assuring that you’ll never stop drowning. Never stop wondering. 

You’ll have to come up with an excuse for tonight. Something believable. Maybe you’ll say that you aren’t feeling well. You have been lying around the house all day. Method acting is what they call it. You never did order that food. He can check his card and see that you haven’t. Even more support for the fact that you just aren’t feeling well. As much as you want to meet his coworkers, you think, mentally rehearsing your story, the alcohol would only make things worse but he should go and have fun. 

“Next time” you’ll say, “Pinky swear.” 

A new episode of your show kicks on, a wistful theme song playing as the leading actor’s faces and names fade in and out. A rose tinted sequence of beautiful faces. You close your eyes, pulling the blanket over your head. Time for another nap—maybe this will be the one that fixes it all—but there’s no time. The sound of a set of keys jingling on the other side of the door sends your lids shooting back open. The door knob turns. The curtain’s rising. You hear those familiar footsteps. It’s time for your performance, kid. Begin scene. 

“Sweetie! Are you here?” Mingyu calls out, kicking his shoes off. He scans the apartment, noticing that the only source of light is from outside and what little is provided by the TV. 

You cough weakly, sitting up on the couch, “I’m here.”

Why did you cough? Terrible acting already. No Oscar for you.. 

Mingyu leans over the back of the couch, arms thrown over your shoulders. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” 

“No, I was just resting. I haven’t really been feeling so good today” you say, trying your hardest to look and sound the worst that you can. 

Circling around the couch, Mingyu kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his. With your eyes all red and puffy it’s an easier sell than you expected. His face twists with worry and you can’t fight the guilt brewing inside of you at the sight of him. 

“What’s going on? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?” 

“No, no. It’s not that bad” you assure him, subtly gaining strength in hopes that it’ll ease his concerns. “It’s just a stomach bug or something.” 

“Lay back down, okay?” he insists, thumbs petting the back of your hands, “I’ll go make you some soup.” 

“Mingyu, you really don’t have to” you start but he’s already guiding you back down onto the couch, hurrying into the kitchen to get some soup started for you. 

The clanking of pots and pans fills the space where any further protest from you might fit. “You just rest!” he shouts, “Let me take care of everything and don’t worry about tonight. We can always wait until you’re feeling better.”

You sink further into the couch at his words. “Until you’re feeling better” means he’ll bring it up again. It means you’ll have to fake sick every single time he mentions it but how long could you play that card before he started to get suspicious? Mingyu can only be distracted by his concern for you for so long before he suspects the truth, that you’re just trying to avoid it, and you’ll have to tell him why. 

“Mingyu, can you come here?”

Too busy raiding the fridge for ingredients, Mingyu barely hears you. “Hmm? You say something?” 

“Come here for a second, please!” 

You push yourself up on the couch, tossing the blanket aside. Mingyu’s there in a flash, ready to do whatever it is that you need. His eagerness to help you only makes you feel worse for having lied to him. You pat the cushion beside you and he takes a seat, bracing himself for whatever news you’re about to break to him. 

“Are you pregnant?” he blurts out and you clutch your chest in shock. 

“Pregnant? What? No. I’m not pregnant. Why would you think I was pregnant?” 

“Messy hair, baggy clothes, you’ve definitely been crying all day, and the ‘stomach bug’” he says, making air quotations at your fake ailment. “I know what that means, I’m not stupid.” 

Even at your lowest moment you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you at how absolutely adorable he is. “Oh, my love, I’m not pregnant.”

“Then what is? Tell me” he begs too sincerely to deny, “You know whatever it is, I’ve got your back. We’re a team, remember?” 

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you lace your fingers between his and settle into the comfort of his presence. Why are you lying to someone you don’t have to lie to? Mingyu’s your person. What is there to hide?

“You know the receptionist at the gym?” 

“Yeah, Lexi, what about her?”

“She…well…she thought I was your client.” 

“Why would she think that?” 

You pause, giving him time to process it. You can feel it when he does. His body tenses, the energy in the room shifting at the realization. 

“Did she say something to you?” he asks, standing up as if he’s ready to run back to that gym to confront her. 

You’re positive that he would. Mingyu’s probably the most gentle man you’ve ever met, you’ve rarely seen him get angry or raise his voice, but when it comes to you it’s never a problem to get a bit out of character. 

Your chest aches recalling the interaction. The casual tone of her voice. The shock on her face when he called you baby. “She was just surprised. I guess I can’t blame her. A girl like me walks into a gym asking for you and what else is she supposed to think? You’re literally built like a god and I’m built like—” 

Mingyu interrupts you on purpose, refusing to let you even attempt to put yourself down. “A goddess. You’re built like a goddess. Stand up.”

“Mingyu, no” you protest but he insists, grabbing your arms and forcing you up from the couch. Gathering the loose fabric of your t-shirt in his fists, he brings it flush against your body, defining every curve. “This body is the body of a goddess. It’s the body of the woman I love. I think it looks perfect next to mine.” Mingyu’s eyes are brimming with admiration and all he wants in this world is for you to feel it but you just hang your head, unable to meet his gaze. 

“But that’s not what other people think.”

“I don't give a shit what other people think. Look at me.” He scoops your cheeks into his hands, giving you no option other than to look at him—to accept the way he looks at you. “When we’re together I think that I can’t imagine being with any other girl. I think I’d lose my mind if I ever woke up next to anybody else. Don’t you feel that way too?”

Of course you do. That’s the silliest question he’s ever asked. You wouldn’t trade being with him for anything. It’s never even crossed your mind to question it. “I always feel like I’m right where I should be when I’m next to you, Mingyu.”

“Because you are,” he smiles, kissing the bridge of your nose, “You belong with me and nothing anyone else says could ever change that.” 

If you had any tears left to cry, even a single one to spare, you’d shed it for him and it wouldn’t be one of heartache or pain. It’d be pure love. Pure appreciation for the existence of a man who can so effortlessly fight off the fears you can’t face on your own, making them feel smaller and smaller until the only thing you can feel is his love for you. 

“I’m gonna go shower. Come with me” he says, his palm skating down your arm to take your hand in his. 

This time you don’t resist. Not when he leads you down the hall to the bathroom, humming as he flicks the light on. Not when he strips you of your clothes, slowly peeling them away until they’re nothing more than a pile of fabric at your feet. And certainly not when he wraps his arms around your naked figure, his tongue exploring your mouth as he pulls you under the warm water sprinkling from the shower head. 

And just like that you’re right back to where you were this morning. Before you walked into that gym, before the insecurities. You’re on your own planet again. Just the two of you. His soapy hands gliding along the contours of your hips. Your fingers combing through his slick, dark hair as he kisses his way down to your chin, burying his face in your neck to nip gently at your sensitive skin. You let out a whimper, your body shivering in his grasp, and Mingyu laughs, never sick of how cute you are when you make that sound. 

Your back arches, jutting your pillowy breasts forward, tempting Mingyu to take one into his hand. He can’t fight the urge to touch you. To feel the weight of it in his hand. So soft and bouncy. Your perky nipple slips eagerly between his fingers, just begging to be pinched the slightest bit. 

“Mingyu” you moan, nibbling at your bottom lip, a flash of heat hitting you so intensely you’d swear someone changed the water temperature. But no, it’s only Mingyu. It always is. 

“Do you remember what you were wearing the first day we met?” he whispers, his voice lost somewhere between lust and fluffy nostalgia. “It was really hot out that. I was walking through the park when I saw you in that crop top and those shorts…fuck…I know I shouldn’t have looked at you like that but your body was so beautiful, baby. Your belly. Your hips. Your thighs.”

Mingyu’s hands patiently glide down your figure, taking their time to indulge in the shape of you. It radiates from him—the admiration, the longing—and it has you melting. You part your lips to release another floaty moan and Mingyu’s right there, his mouth pressed to yours, hungry for the taste of it on his tongue.

“I can’t forget your face” he hums, breaking from the kiss, stars dancing in those brown eyes, “It’s my favorite thing about you. Just look at you.” One hand dances up to stroke your cheek while another dips between your legs, his fingertips ghosting your clit just enough to make you tremble. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Especially when you make faces like that.”

You don’t want to make faces. You want to look cool, calm, and collected—completely unaffected by his teasing—but it’s nothing you can help. Your body reacts to him just the way he wants it to every single time and there’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing he wants you to do about it. 

“Don’t start” you warn, playfully swatting him on the back of the head. Instinctively you wrap a leg around his waist, your actions immediately betraying your words. 

“Start?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t know what you mean. Start what?” 

Mingyu plays innocent but in the blink of an eye he sweeps you off of your feet, your back pressed to the wall and his arms tucked behind your knees. You lock your arms around his shoulders, terrified that you’re about to come crashing to the ground. 

“You can’t just pick me up like that!” 

Mingyu laughs, shifting your weight to make sure you’re secure, “I can actually. Don’t worry. All this muscle isn’t for nothing. I’ve got you.” He locks eyes with you, as serious as he’s ever been.

“I said, I’ve got you” he repeats, rocking his hips so that the head of his cock brushes your slit. You’re dripping, already clenching, and the slick warmth of you coating his tip has him licking his lips. “Just relax, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Relax? And put your full weight onto this man? You can’t. He’s out of his mind. He’s insane. He’s lifting into you and every thick, wonderfully veined inch of his cock makes you care less about how heavy you might be. The only thing on your mind is the motion of his hips, every stroke of his cock making your body sing the sweetest of songs. 

If he were honest he’d say that holding you up was harder than he thought but not because of your weight. Your walls are so velvety, hugging his length like you never want to let go. The pleasure’s almost too much. It takes everything in him to keep himself from falling apart. 

“Love you” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Love you so much.” 

 “Love…mmph….you…aah…too” you squeak, the smile on your face making his heart skip a beat. 

Mingyu thrusts into you harder one good time just to watch your eyes roll back. Your nails dig into the tense muscles of his back but he’s too high from the feeling of you for the sting to feel anything other than good. 

“Say it again. Tell me you love me too” he demands, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. 

“I love you too” you utter between sloppy kisses. 

“And you belong with me.”

He’s throbbing so deep inside of you that you’d swear you can feel it in your stomach. Your vision’s hazy. Your pulse is racing. It feels as if your very cells are vibrating. “I belong with you”. 

“That’s it. My good girl. My perfect girl” he coos, feeling you tighten around his cock. “Aww, you gonna cum, baby?” 

“Mmhmm” you whine, mindlessly riding his lap, desperate for more. 

This image of you will be burned into his mind for weeks. Legs around his waist. Pinned to the wall. Beads of water glimmering on your naked form. Clenching. Needy. Juices leaking down his cock as you cum around him, your walls spasming wildly as you take every inch. Every thrust. Every drop of him when he finally breaks, filling you until the warm white liquid’s dripping from your pretty slit. 

Are you levitating? You must be because he can’t feel himself holding you and you can’t feel yourself being held. You’re just here together floating in ecstasy. Peacefully. Effortlessly. As it should be. You can’t discern how much time has passed when Mingyu’s carefully lowering your legs, refusing to let you go until he’s sure you can stand on your own. 

“I’ve gotta get away from you” you tease, hopping out of the shower as quickly as your wobbly legs will let you, “You’re trouble.” 

Mingyu shuts the shower off, jumping out right after you to drag you back into his arms. “But you like trouble” he says, assaulting your left cheek with kisses. 

You roll your eyes and pout but you know he’s right. Any trouble you get from Mingyu is trouble you want. You couldn’t go without it. “Maybe.” Grabbing your towel, you tuck it around your body before tossing Mingyu his. “Now hurry up and get ready.”

“Get ready for…”

“I thought we were meeting your coworkers for drinks.”

Mingyu freezes, his system’s malfunctioning. He’s sure you didn’t just say what you said. “I thought you didn’t wanna go.”

“People change their minds, baby. Especially when they have boyfriends like you who make them feel like the prettiest girl in the world” you say, pinching his cheek, “I wanna be wherever you are. Unless you don’t want—”.

“Shut up, we’re going” he interrupts, “But first I gotta talk to you about something.” 

“Okay, what is it?” 

“We can’t talk about it here. It’s better if we talk in the bedroom.”

You stare at him skeptically, arms folded across your chest, “What can you talk to me about in the bedroom that we can’t talk about here?”

Mingyu lulls you into another tender kiss, sliding your towel up to massage your ass. “Get in there and I’ll show you.” 

You place your full trust in him, letting him blindly back you out of the bathroom and down the hall where your bedroom awaits, kissing you and caressing you, throwing off your entire sense of direction. It occurs to you as you cross the threshold of what you assume to be your bedroom and your towel hits the ground that you probably aren’t going out for drinks tonight. 

Chances are you’ll spend the night in instead, ending your day the way it began. Tangled in the sheets. Lost in him. Lost in each other. And that suits you just fine. You’ll see his coworkers when you see them. There’s no nervousness about it anymore. No fear. You’ve never known peace the way that you have with Mingyu. As long as you’re together everything’s as it should be and nothing can make you question that ever again.