#i feel like I've been having a conversation with myself in school for over a decade and you can feel the resentment

[fairykukla]

This is something I have experience with. Please learn from my mistakes and my successes:

I have a higher sex drive than most partners I've had in my life. I'm in my 50s now, so this has been going on for a long time.

As a child I was diagnosed with an "unspecified childhood neurosis" but it was most likely ADHD. I had severe anxiety as well. That rejection sensitivity dysphoria is a real monster; and my classmates figured out that they could make me cry over the slightest thing.

Several years of counseling (and switching to a better school that could meet my needs) later, I had reprogrammed myself. First, coping strategies for how to deal with that burst of intense rejection, then managing my outlook so that when people reject me, I don't have that intense reaction.

As a high schooler, and college student, I had a reputation for being emotionally bulletproof, and incredibly fearless. It's because I had shifted from a panicked, anxious, rage when I thought someone rejected me to a shrug and a "sounds like a you problem" and going about my business.

But that therapy was during my childhood.

Once I became sexually active, it turned out that I was super vulnerable on the subject of sex. It probably didn't help that I had a whopping case of Eldest Daughter Syndrome and had been a confidant to my mother's issues with my father's rejection and coldness, either.

And it *always happened.* I'd get to a certain point in my relationships and my partner would be too tired, or not in the mood, and it was like a flaming arrow through my heart every single time.

I broke up with someone over this issue, because I was certain he didn't care about me anymore.

I got married, and my partner has depressive episodes that last for months. He becomes asexual during his depressions, and isn't interested in sex.

And I took that personally. It was poisoning our relationship.

We had many conversations about it, and more than one actual fight.

Here are the things that helped, and worked:

1. Reframing his responses to help me gain context. For example;

"Not tonight, but maybe this weekend?"

"I'm not up for that, but we can cuddle."

These are responses that reassure me that he still loves me and wants intimacy l, but is not up for sex, specifically.

2. Reframing how I initiate sex; sometimes a spur of the moment is good, sometimes a few days notice will help him get in the mood. If we set a date night, I'd ask if that's a sexy date or if it was just quiet time together.

We are still married many years later. I don't take it personally if we don't have sex, but I'm free to ask for cuddle time, backrubs, or other intimate touch time.

It is absolutely worth it doing the emotional work to resolve RSD. I'm living proof. Seek a therapist, and then commit to fixing it. You can do it, and you will feel so free and happy and balanced when you do.

i dont know if this is the right place to go but im so lost why do i have crying meltdowns when my boyfriend turns down sex? it makes me feel disgusting and like im pressuring him to sleep with me, but i would never and thats not my intention. I just get filled with an overwhelming feeling of rejection and disappointment that it hurts physically

I know this may sound hurtful. That's not my intention. I mean this genuinely, in the kindest way possible but it may be that one of the main reasons you have crying meltdowns when your boyfriend turns down sex is that you are not in a space where you should currently be having sex.

It sounds like you have a very strong reaction to what you view as a rejection. I don't know if that's a general thing or just a sex thing but clearly, it's an issue you need to work on. It's not an unheard of issue-What you're describing is word-for-word something that plenty of people who have RSD [Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria] deal with regularly.

But if it's causing you to have meltdowns when your boyfriend turns down sex, it might be a good idea to stop putting yourself in that situation until you've got a better handle on all of it.

That should definitely start with sitting down with your boyfriend and thoroughly discussing with him, "Hey, I have this issue but it's not me trying to pressure you," and listening to his feelings about it and seeing where to go from there.

But from there, you have a lot of options. Therapy, generally exposing yourself to rejection to build yourself up, learning more about how to manage your reactions, etc, that's up to you.

I can't tell you exactly why you have those meltdowns but I can tell you that some people feel things very intensely. And sometimes we can't control our exact reaction to those feelings.

That's not something that makes you evil. Often, there's nothing wrong with feeling things strongly, even if you express them in ways other people view as "inappropriate" or "strange."

But sometimes, it's something you need help with! Like when it's so intense you're feeling physical pain because of something repeatedly! Or when it might interfere with your boyfriend's ability to consent properly. That's definitely an issue you need help with. But it doesn't make you evil.

Not sure how helpful this is, Anon. But let me know if you have any other questions. <3

[genderqueerdykes]

my moms bisexual in denial but i dont think that counts

you know, it's an interesting conversation topic, because i just brought up my own mom who was in denial/in the closet about her identity, too. i do think it counts, even if someone hasn't come to accept it, themselves, because it's there and it's happening whether or not that person accepts it. obviously you don't want to tell your mom who they are and how they identify, but it can be pretty easy to pick up on someone who is queer but hasn't accepted it

my mom was exactly that, too. my mom was a closeted butch lesbian in denial. she would constantly tell me that she wished she could live with, date, and marry women. she told me numerous times throughout my life that she wished she could just marry a woman and surround herself with women. she was very butch, never wore makeup, barely wore accessories/jewelry, almost always wore men's clothes, or women's clothes that looked androgynous. always wore her hair short. she got very scared when i started presenting like a butch lesbian because she saw something reflected in herself that she was scared to admit. she even told me as a kid that i needed to not dress butch because people would assume she was a butch lesbian and call her out for it. you can see that the denial ran deep with her.

it's unfortunate because i feel like we really could've bonded over that, but she's not with us anymore. so all i can really do is think back on how she was too scared to live her true life, and how i just can't do that to myself. my mom lived in a progressive enough state that she would not have had much issue marrying another woman. but she was unfortunately scared to step out of the closet, and many people live those lives. my sister is the same as my mother. she has parroted the exact same things my mother has said, plus, when i was in high school, we had a day where we were supposed to wear a specific color to show support of queer students. when i asked my sister if she had a shirt in that color and explained why, she actually asked me

"Why would you support people who choose to be gay?" in utter confusion, i blinked at her, and went "What, do you wake up every day and choose to be straight?" and i kid you not, she proudly put her hands on her hips and said "Yes, I do!" it was so painful to witness. i wish I had told her "So you... aren't straight." i wish i had had the courage to tell her that's not normal and that if you have to wake up every day and choose to be a specific sexuality, you're lying to yourself. her perspective on queerness never really got better, espcially after i transitioned, but that's a story for another day. my sister blew my mind that day... i realized i had 2 queer family members who were scared shitless to admit it and instead of accepting it, they took it out on me.

sorry for the ramble, but i just wanted to bring up my own experience with this because i'v eknown my mom has been a closeted butch lesbian my entire life and it's something that moves me. she lived her entire life in denial, start to finish, and was never able to be herself. i'd say it saddens me, but it doesn't. it motivates me to always be my most authentic self. because living a life that's not yours isn't living. my mom could've potentially have been a much happier person, but fear kept her trapped in her misery. i don't want to do that to myself

[nozomijoestar]

Love hate relationship with how almost every in person class I've ever had in my life turns into The Me Show: Starring Me because the class majority will consistently refuse to ever speak and participate regardless of subject, no matter how hard their teacher tries engaging them

[cry-ba-bys]

YOU'RE AN ANGEL I'M A DOG OR YOU'RE A DOG AND I'M YOUR MAN YOU BELIVE ME LIKE A GOD I DESTROY YOU LIKE I AM

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴍᴇs ʀᴜʟᴇ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 10k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Summary: The deeper levels of both you and Marcus are revealed to one another

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), ANGSTY, gladiator battles, gore, blood, PTSD, scars, injury, corrupt people, exploitation

A/n: Hey everyone, the new part is finally posted! I've been really busy lately. For those who don't know, I'm a teaching assistant and I also coach cheer and dance at our school. I've been busy getting stuff done for that, so sorry for the wait. Please enjoy! P.S. Sorry, I didn't have time to proofread. (i combined your asks in my own way but sadly there no smut @theamunsonsworld?)

The last day of your honeymoon dawned with a soft, golden light that bathed the villa in gentle warmth. As you and Marcus made your way back to your father's villa in a horse-drawn carriage, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestones filled the silence. Marcus watched the passing scenery, his eyes distant and thoughtful.

Breaking the silence, Marcus turned to you, his brow furrowed. "You know," he began, his tone serious, "when your father brought up that ridiculous expectation over dinner, I had to stop myself from laughing."

You looked at him, surprised. "Laughing? Why?"

"Because," Marcus said, leaning back against the cushioned seat, "the idea that we could just decide to have a child on a whim as if it were that simple, is absurd. Your father lives in a world of his own making sometimes."

You let out a bitter laugh, the weight of the conversation settling in. "He’s always been like that—demanding, controlling. It’s as if he forgets I’m a person, not just a means to an end."

Marcus nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "The expectations of Rome can be suffocating. But we can try to live differently, take our time, even find ways to see your mother."

A spark of hope flickered within you. "It sounds wonderful, but it feels like a distant dream."

Marcus shifted closer, his voice firm yet gentle. "It doesn’t have to be. We can make it a reality, bit by bit."

Your gaze fell, the words heavy on your tongue. "I’ve been rebellious my whole life, Marcus. But the truth is, as a woman, I have no choice. I’m trapped in these roles."

His hand found yours again, squeezing gently. "You’ve always had a fire in you. That spirit is what drew me to you."

A wave of emotions crashed over you, frustration mingling with gratitude. "Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Fighting, resisting, when it feels like nothing ever changes."

"You’ve already changed so much," Marcus reassured you. "And together, we can push further. We can find ways to see your mother. She deserves to know you’re thinking of her."

Your heart ached with longing, the image of your mother vivid in your mind. "I want that more than anything. To have her back in my life, even if only for a while."

Marcus smiled, his expression softening. "We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can travel under the guise of visiting trade routes or exploring new markets. There’s always a way."

You looked at him, a smile breaking through despite everything. "You always find the silver lining, don’t you?"

He chuckled, his eyes bright. "Someone has to. Besides, it’s easier with you by my side."

You felt a surge of gratitude for Marcus, for his understanding and support. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "We're in this together. No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

As the silence settled between you, Marcus’s gaze turned contemplative. "Have you ever thought about having kids? I mean, not now, but in the future."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the question. "Kids? I suppose I have, but not for a long time. I'm only eighteen, Marcus. There's so much I want to do first."

Marcus nodded, understanding but curious. "What do you want to do before that?"

You sighed, the weight of your dreams pressing against the confines of your reality. "I want to see the world, and experience things beyond the confines of my father's estate. I want to spend time with my mother, and really get to know her again. And... I want to build something with you, something that’s ours, without the shadow of my family's expectations hanging over us."

Marcus's curiosity was piqued. "An addition?"

You nodded, a determined look in your eyes. "I want us to live in the villa. The one where we honeymooned and where I spent my childhood. It holds so many memories, and it's the one place that feels like home to me."

Marcus's expression softened. "The villa? That place is beautiful. I can see why you'd want to make it our home."

"It's more than just beautiful," you explained. "It's where I felt happiest, where my mother and I had some of our best times before everything fell apart. It feels like a safe haven, and I want to create new, happy memories there with you."

He squeezed your hand, his eyes searching yours. "And you think having kids would interfere with that?"

"Not interfere, exactly," you clarified, trying to articulate your feelings. "It's just... I want to be ready. I want to be in a place where I feel secure and happy, where I know I can give them the love and stability they deserve. And right now, I'm not there yet. We’re not there yet."

Marcus tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "So, you're saying you need more time to figure things out? Typical."

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glint in your gaze. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

He chuckled, his laugh a warm, familiar sound. "Just that you're always planning, always thinking ahead. Sometimes, I think you should just live in the moment a little more."

You huffed, a mock frown forming on your face. "Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on living in the moment?"

"Absolutely," he said with a grin, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "I am the very definition of spontaneous."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Right, because nothing says 'spontaneous' like planning out our every move on this journey."

"Hey, that was different," he defended, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was being responsible, making sure we didn't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You know, sometimes I think you just like arguing with me."

He leaned forward, his expression turning serious but his eyes still warm. "Maybe I do. But only because I care about you. And I want to make sure we're on the same page about our future."

You softened, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I know, Marcus. And I appreciate it. I really do. We'll get there, together. But right now, I need to focus on the present, on getting my mother to the villa and figuring out our next steps."

Marcus nodded, his expression resolute. "Then that's what we'll do. Together."

The carriage came to a halt after the long journey. You were back at your father’s palace. The first person in your line of sight was Aurelia, standing tall and poised beside your father. Her presence always brought a mixture of emotions—resentment, bitterness, and a grudging respect for her unyielding confidence. Your father, ever the imposing figure, stood with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as Marcus helped you down from the carriage. His hand was a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions swirling inside you. Your mind raced with thoughts—fear, anticipation, and a deep-seated dread. The memory of the villa, your mother's isolation, and your father's control weighed heavily on you. And now, the nagging worry that you might not be pregnant gnawed at your insides. You had to face them both with a facade of calm.

Marcus’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as you approached your father and Aurelia. He had always been your guide, your support, and now was no different. His presence gave you the strength to lift your chin and meet their gaze head-on.

“Welcome back,” your father said, his voice cold and detached. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“It was fine, Father,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Aurelia’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and malice. “You look well,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sure the trip was good for you both.”

Before you could respond, your father turned his gaze to Marcus, his eyes narrowing. “Did you manage to fulfill your duties, Marcus? I trust you took full advantage of the... solitude?”

You felt Marcus stiffen beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Our trip was about more than just that, Sir,” Marcus replied evenly, though you could sense the tension in his voice.

Your father wasn’t satisfied. “More than that? Do you understand the gravity of your position, Marcus? My daughter’s primary responsibility is to produce an heir. Have you been diligent in your efforts, or have you been wasting time?”

Anger flared inside you, and you stepped forward, your voice sharp. “That’s quite inappropriate, Father. Our trip was about reconnecting and planning our future.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Your future is already decided. You are to produce an heir. Everything else is secondary.”

Marcus intervened, his voice calm and measured. “With all due respect, Sir, building a strong foundation for our future is essential for the well-being of our potential children. It ensures they are brought into a stable and loving environment, which, in the long term, benefits your legacy.”

You bristled at your father’s invasive question, but Marcus’s reasoning was sound. Your father’s eyes flickered with a hint of consideration before hardening again. “Your pretty words won’t change the facts. An heir is needed. Quickly.”

Aurelia’s laughter cut through the air, sharp and vindictive. “Now, now, let’s not get heated. We’re all family here, aren’t we?”

You shot her a glare, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yes, family. How could I forget?”

Aurelia continued, her tone saccharine. “Your father only wants what’s best for you. We all do.”

Marcus stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “We understand the expectations, but we also need to live our lives the way we see fit. The stability and happiness of our family should come first.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed further. “You will do as you’re told. You owe it to this family.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt your frustration boiling over. “I owe this family nothing. I’ve been controlled and manipulated my entire life. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Aurelia stepped closer, her presence imposing. “Let’s not forget our manners, dear. We all have roles to play, and you must play yours.”

Your temper flared at her condescension, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface. “And what exactly is my role, Aurelia? To be paraded around like a prize, while you sit here on your high horse?”

Aurelia’s smile was icy. “Careful, sister. Your jealousy is showing. Not everyone is cut out for greatness.”

You took a step forward, hand twitching with the urge to slap her. “Jealousy? Of you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Before you could act on your impulse, Marcus gently but firmly grasped your arm, pulling you back. “Enough,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of warning and concern.

Aurelia’s smirk widened, sensing victory. “Always the temperamental one. It’s a wonder Marcus puts up with you.”

You were about to retort when a maid hurried into the courtyard, her face pale and anxious. “My lord, my lady,” she addressed your father and Aurelia, glancing nervously at you. “I have urgent news.”

Your father’s stern expression softened slightly. “Speak.”

The maid took a deep breath. “Lady Aurelia is with child.”

Aurelia’s triumphant smile was instantaneous, and she looked at you with smug satisfaction. “Looks like I’ll be fulfilling my role just fine.”

You felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath you. The news hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a deep-seated fear of being overshadowed.

Your father stepped forward, his gaze heavy with expectation. “I hope to hear the same from you soon,” he said, his tone a blend of command and disappointment. “But for now, I have work to do and a marriage to finalize with your mother. We’ll speak more of this later.”

Marcus tightened his grip on your arm, sensing your rising fury. “Let’s go,” he murmured, practically dragging you away before you could lash out further.

As you walked briskly away from the courtyard, you seethed. “How dare she? How dare he?” you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and injustice.

Marcus slowed his pace, his expression one of deep concern. “You can’t let them get to you like this.”

“How can I not?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “She always wins, always gets the praise, and now this? And Father... he doesn’t even see me.”

Marcus stopped, turning to face you fully. “I see you. I’ve always seen you. And I love you for who you are, not for any role you’re supposed to play.”

His words were meant to comfort, but the pain of your father’s disregard and Aurelia’s gloating was too fresh, too raw. “It’s not enough,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “I need to be more than just... tolerated.”

Arriving at your bedchamber, you muttered under your breath, “He wants to finalize the marriage with my mother. To bind us even more to his plans.”

Marcus closed the door behind you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. You stood there for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you, before the rage started to build. The anger that had been simmering all day erupted like a volcano.

“Gods, Marcus, I can’t take this anymore!” you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. “Every single thing he does, every decision he makes, it’s all about control. He treats us like pawns, like we’re nothing more than pieces on his chessboard!”

Marcus watched you, his face stoic, but his eyes were full of understanding. He knew you needed to get it all out, to release the torrent of fury that had been building for so long.

You began to pace the room, your hands clenched into fists. “He wants nothing to do with my mother, and now he’s probably scheming to marry her off to some other noble. It’s like she’s just another tool to be used! And Aurelia—gods, I hate her. She’s always gloating, always scheming. She thinks she can replace my mother and secure her own power. And now, she’s pregnant before me. Pregnant! Not that I want to be pregnant, but she’s doing it just to spite me, just to rub it in my face!”

Your movements became more erratic, your pacing more frantic. “And my mother, what will happen to her? She’ll be left with nothing. Nothing! While Aurelia parades around, acting like she owns everything. She’s pregnant, Marcus, and everyone will fawn over her, praise her, while I’m just... just here. Expected to play a role, to be a good little pawn in his game.”

You stopped pacing abruptly, turning to Marcus with fire in your eyes. “And do you know what I want? I just want to be with you. I want to fuck my new husband without having to think about heirs and duties and all this... this bullshit! Is that so much to ask?”

Tears of pure rage welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You wiped them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. “I hate him, Marcus. I hate the way he makes me feel, the way he manipulates everything to suit his own needs. And I hate that I feel so powerless against him.”

Marcus stepped closer, his hands outstretched, but you waved him off, needing to continue venting. “And it’s not just him. It’s everything. The way Aurelia gloats, the way the servants look at me with pity, the endless expectations and demands. I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m disappointing someone. It’s suffocating!”

Your voice broke as you continued, the tears finally spilling over. But they weren’t tears of sadness—they were tears of anger, of frustration, of sheer, unadulterated fury. “I’m so tired of feeling trapped, of feeling like I’m not good enough. I want to live my own life, make my own choices. I want to be free, Marcus. Is that too much to ask?”

You turned to him, your chest heaving with the effort of releasing all your pent-up anger. Marcus stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You resisted at first, but then you let yourself sink into his embrace, the fury still burning inside you but tempered by his presence.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered, his voice steady and calm. “I love you for who you are, not for who you’re supposed to be. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way.”

His words were few, but they were like a balm to your raging soul. You clung to him, letting the tears flow freely now, your body shaking with the force of your emotions. “I just want to be free,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined.

Marcus held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “We will be,” he promised. “We’ll find a way to break free from all of this. Together.”

You cried into his shoulder, your tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. Slowly, the fury began to ebb, replaced by a weary resolve.

“We’ll get through this,” Marcus said softly, his voice full of conviction. “One step at a time. And we won’t let him win. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded against his shoulder, the fire inside you still burning but now directed towards a purpose. “We’ll fight,” you agreed, your voice steadying. “We’ll fight for our freedom, for our future. Together.”

Marcus pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “Together,” he echoed, his eyes full of love and determination.

You took a deep breath, feeling a new sense of resolve. The road ahead would be difficult, but you were ready to face it. With Marcus by your side, you knew you could overcome anything. And you would—no matter what it took.

As you pulled back from Marcus, your eyes met his, and you felt a flicker of hope. But then reality crashed back in. “But what if things don’t change, Marcus? What if life in Rome is just more of the same? More schemes, more manipulation?”

Marcus sighed his brow furrowing in thought. “Life in Rome will have its challenges, no doubt. The politics, the power plays—it won’t be easy. But we’ll navigate it together. We’ve faced worse before, and we’ve come out stronger.”

The truth of his words resonated with you, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “I just wish we didn’t have to play these games. I want to live, Marcus. Really live.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “And we will. We’ll find moments of peace, places where we can be ourselves. Just like the beach. We’ll make our own freedom, carve out our own happiness. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m just so tired of fighting. Tired of always being on edge.”

Marcus pulled you close again, his embrace strong and reassuring. “I know. But you’re not alone in this fight. We’ll face it together, and we’ll find a way to create the life we want. No matter what it takes.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Marcus by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, and together, you would find a way to break free from the chains that bound you.

“My lord, there’s—” the guard started, but you pulled away from Marcus, not wanting anyone to see you so vulnerable.

“What is it?” you snapped, your voice sharp.

The guard hesitated, clearly taken aback by your tone. “There’s a situation in the courtyard. Your father demands your presence immediately.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus before standing. “Fine. Tell him we’re coming.”

As the guard left, you turned to Marcus, your earlier anger rekindling. “This never ends, does it? He won’t even let me have a moment of peace.”

Marcus squeezed your hand, his touch reassuring. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

As you walked with Marcus toward the courtyard, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. Your frustration bubbled up, manifesting in a sharp, sarcastic tone. “Another grand announcement from my dear father. How thrilling.”

Marcus squeezed your hand gently, trying to calm the storm inside you. “We’ll face it together.”

In the courtyard, your father stood at the center, flanked by Aurelia and a handful of stern-faced servants. His piercing gaze locked onto you and Marcus as you approached.

“Well, isn’t this just a picture-perfect family moment?” you said, your voice dripping with irony.

Your father’s expression hardened. “Enough. This is a matter of utmost importance.”

You sighed, preparing for yet another lecture, but your father’s voice turned icy and commanding. “We’ve received correspondence from the Emperor. He demands your and Marcus’s presence at the palace immediately.”

Marcus’s calm demeanor shattered as he took the letter from your father’s outstretched hand. His face paled as he read the contents.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. But Marcus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the letter, brows furrowed in concern.

Your father’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You are to leave at dawn. Be prepared.”

Marcus nodded stiffly. “We will.”

As you turned to leave, Aurelia’s mocking tone echoed behind you. “Do try not to disgrace the family.”

The knot in your stomach tightened with each step you took away from the courtyard. “Marcus, what’s in the letter?”

He didn’t respond, his silence only amplifying your anxiety. When you reached your chambers, he finally turned to face you, worry etched into his features.

“Marcus, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “The Emperor has summoned us. This isn’t a polite request; it’s a command. Refusing isn’t an option.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “But why? What does the Emperor want with us?”

Marcus’s expression darkened. “It’s about the gladiators. He wants my insights on the performance of the newest recruits.”

You blinked in disbelief. “Gladiators? Why does he care about your opinion on that?”

Marcus’s laugh was bitter, a sound you rarely heard from him. “Because I wasn’t always a general. I was once a gladiator. The Emperor thinks my perspective is valuable.”

Sarcasm bubbled up as you tried to cope with the mounting fear. “So we’re just part of his entertainment now? I know how gladiators work, Marcus.”

His eyes flashed with a sudden coldness, his voice slicing through your sarcasm. “No, you don’t. You’ve never been in the arena, fighting for your life. You’ve never faced that horror.”

You recoiled at the intensity of his response. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

“Just what?” he snapped. “Think it’s easy? Think it’s something I want to revisit? The Emperor wants to parade my past, to judge others as I was judged. It’s a matter of life and death for those men.”

Your anger melted away, replaced by a creeping fear. “Marcus, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

He cut you off, his voice low and fierce. “I want nothing to do with that life. But I’m not foolish enough to disobey the Emperor again.”

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling inside you. “So what do we do?”

Marcus was like a stone wall as he spoke, his voice steady and unyielding. “We go. We play their game. The upbringing you despise, the training that shaped me—it has to be on full display. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla are not kind rulers. They won't hesitate to use anyone for their own gain.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You just saw me scream and yell. I’m not exactly the epitome of grace and strategy.”

Marcus’s expression softened for a moment, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “You’re more than you realize. But we need to be careful. They’re not just rulers; they’re predators. We have to show them strength, unity.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Marcus. I won’t let them drag you back into that life. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice filled with fierce tenderness. “But we have to be smart about this. We need to present a united front, show them we’re not to be trifled with.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. “Together, then. We face them together.”

Marcus pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth grounding you amidst the turmoil. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “We have to.”

As you and Marcus entered the grand hall of the palace, the air was thick with tension. The towering pillars and opulent decorations did little to mask the underlying menace that seemed to permeate the room. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla sat upon their thrones, their eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of Marcus and you approaching.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our esteemed gladiator,” Geta drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “And his rebellious bride. How charming.”

Caracalla’s gaze was colder, more calculating. “It’s been some time, Marcus. I trust you’ve found civilized life to your liking?”

Marcus’s face remained impassive, but you could feel the tension in his body beside you. “I serve as I am commanded, Your Majesties.”

Geta smirked, his eyes flicking to you. “And your wife. How interesting that you chose to marry someone with such a... colorful history. Tell me, my dear, do you still harbor those rebellious thoughts?”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you forced yourself to remain calm. “I am loyal to my husband and to the throne,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear.

Caracalla leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “We shall see. Loyalty is tested in the most unexpected ways.”

Your mind raced as you tried to gauge their intentions. The emperors had made Marcus a gladiator, using him for their entertainment and power. Now they were testing you both, probing for any signs of defiance. You knew this was more than a mere audience; it was a test of your loyalty and a way to ensure you posed no threat to their rule.

“I understand your concerns, Your Majesties,” Marcus said, his voice steady and controlled. “But I assure you, we have no intention of going against the throne.”

Geta chuckled the sound grating on your nerves. “Intentions can change. We simply want to make sure you remember where your loyalties lie.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of fear. This was your chance to protect your mother, to ensure she wasn’t caught in the crossfire of political games. If you could gain the emperor’s favor, perhaps they would leave her alone. As the conversation continued, your mind churned with thoughts of her. She had always been a pawn in these power struggles, and you couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering because of your actions. You needed to be careful, to play their game and show them you were no threat.

But despite your efforts to remain composed, your nerves betrayed you. Your hands trembled slightly, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You glanced at Marcus, hoping for some reassurance. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, you found an unspoken comfort. His presence was a steady anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your emotions.

Marcus noticed your fear, and though he didn’t say anything, his hand subtly brushed against yours, a silent promise that he was there for you. His strength and unwavering support bolstered your resolve, giving you the courage to face the emperors.

Caracalla’s gaze shifted between you and Marcus, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “We shall see how well you fare under scrutiny. Your loyalty will be tested, both of you.”

Geta’s expression darkened. “Do not forget, Marcus, that we made you what you are. And we can unmake you just as easily.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he remained composed. “I am aware.”

The emperors exchanged a satisfied glance, clearly enjoying their display of power. “You are dismissed,” Geta said, waving a hand dismissively. “Remember, we are always watching.”

As you and Marcus turned to leave, your heart pounded in your chest. The encounter had been a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation. You were walking a tightrope, balancing your need to protect your family with the constant threat of imperial retribution.

Once you were outside the hall, you let out a shaky breath. Marcus pulled you into a quiet alcove, his hands gently cupping your face. But instead of finding solace in his touch, you saw the fear in his eyes, a deep-rooted terror that mirrored your own.

“Marcus,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “are you alright?”

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, but the lie was thin, transparent.

You took his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers. “No, you’re not. You’re scared.”

Marcus’s eyes darted away, his shoulders tensing. “I can’t go back to that life,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t be their pawn again.”

You felt a surge of protectiveness, the same anger that had fueled you the day before now burning on his behalf. “We won’t let them do that to you,” you said fiercely. “I won’t let them.”

His gaze snapped back to you, a mixture of fear and desperation in his eyes. “How can you be so sure? They’re the emperors. They can do whatever they want.”

You squeezed his hand, pulling him closer. “Because we’re stronger together. And we won’t let them break us.”

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to go back to that place,” he said, his voice breaking. “The things I did, the things I saw...”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re not alone, Marcus. I’m here with you.”

For a moment, he clung to you, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Then, he pulled back, his eyes haunted. “Sometimes, it’s like I’m still there. Like I never left.”

You felt a pang of fear for him, a deep concern that he was showing signs of something you couldn’t quite understand but knew was serious. “We’ll get through this,” you said, your voice steady. “But right now, we need to get to our room. You need to rest.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. Together, you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Once inside, you closed the door and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Talk to me,” you urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Marcus’s eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something far away. “It’s like... like I can hear the crowds again. Feel the sand under my feet, the weight of the sword in my hand. The fear, the anger—it all comes rushing back.”

You knelt before him, taking his hands in yours. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “But I’m not, am I? I’m always going to be that gladiator to them. A tool to be used, a spectacle to be enjoyed.”

Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was reliving. “Marcus, look at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you saw the depth of his fear, the scars that ran deeper than you had realized.

“You’re not just a gladiator,” you said firmly. “You’re my husband. You’re a general, a leader, a man with a future. And we’re going to get through this together. We’re going to show them that they don’t control us.”

He took a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And when you feel like you can’t go on, I’ll be here to hold you up. Just like you’ve always done for me.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’ll never have to find out,” you murmured. “We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Marcus held you for a few moments longer, then pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. “I need to take my mind off all of this.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Of course. Actually, when I was in the carriage, I was brushing up on my Latin. Just in case the emperors decided to make things even more difficult by not speaking English.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “The carriage? I was wondering what you were saying to the driver.”

A laugh broke through his tense demeanor, the sound lifting some of the weight between you. “Latin, huh? How’s that going?”

You shrugged, feeling a bit more at ease. “Not too bad, actually. Although, I think I might have accidentally told the driver that his mother is a donkey.”

Marcus chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he appreciated the compliment.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Hey, I’m trying here! Besides, it’s not like I had much else to do.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now as he pulled you into his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His hands settled on your hips, and you could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes.

You relaxed against him, your arms looping around his neck. “I missed this,” you admitted, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “Just being us.”

“Me too,” he murmured, his hands moving up your back in a soothing motion. “It feels like everything’s been so chaotic lately.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “But we have each other, and that’s what matters.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Always.”

For a while, you sat there in comfortable silence, the tension from the day slowly melting away. You exchanged light-hearted banter, your bickering and teasing gradually returning to the easy rhythm you both cherished.

“Remember when we first met?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Marcus’s eyes lit up with the memory. “How could I forget? You were trying to run away from our arranged marriage and fell off the horse you were riding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I was so determined to escape. I didn’t even realize how dangerous it was.”

He chuckled softly. “You were fierce, that’s for sure. Maybe I should teach you how to ride properly.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Are we still talking about horses?”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with playful intent. “Depends. Do you want a lesson?”

You leaned in, your breath mingling with his. “Only if you promise to be a very hands-on teacher.”

He kissed you back, his hands tightening on your hips. “Oh, I’ll make sure you get all the practice you need.”

You pulled back slightly, your expression turning more serious. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Of course. Anything.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “What do you think about kids? How many would you want? And… do you have any names in mind?”

Marcus looked thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve always wanted a big family,” he said slowly. “Maybe three or four kids. I think it would be nice for them to have siblings, to grow up with a sense of family and support.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that too. And names?”

He smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “I’ve always liked the name Alexander for a boy. And maybe Lucia for a girl. Strong names, with history and meaning.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “I like those names. They feel… right.”

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a mixture of concern and vulnerability. “Is there something else on your mind?”

You bit your lip, feeling a bit nervous. “Actually, yes. I was wondering… could you stop cumming inside of me every time we… you know, make love?”

Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback by your request. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I want to make sure we’re both ready when we decide to have children. I don’t want to rush into it because of… well, an accident.”

He looked relieved, then thoughtful. “I understand. I just… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, Marcus. And I want us to build our family together when we’re both ready.”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re right. We should be deliberate about this. I promise, I’ll be more careful.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He kissed you back, his hands moving to cradle your face. “I love you. More than anything.”

You rested your forehead against his, feeling a deep sense of peace. “We’ll get through this, Marcus. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with love and determination. “Together.”

You sat in the coliseum, the roaring crowd around you a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The naval battle below was a spectacle of chaos and violence, the clash of cannons reverberating through the air, each blast sending shockwaves that you could feel in your chest. Ships collided with bone-jarring force, the sound of wood splintering and men shouting echoing through the vast arena.

The emperors insisted on your attention. Emperor Geta’s voice cut through the noise, a chilling command. “Watch closely, my dear. This is the true essence of power.”

You forced yourself to turn back to the spectacle. A cannonball ripped through the hull of a ship, sending debris and bodies flying. The water turned red with blood, the cries of the dying blending with the roar of the crowd. Your stomach twisted, and you clenched your hands in your lap, willing the nausea to pass.

You tried to focus on the details, finding yourself strangely drawn to the movements and strategies of the combatants. You rooted silently for the ship you wanted to see survive, your heart racing with each close call. The emperors watched you closely, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement. They seemed to thrive on the chaos, their power evident in the way they manipulated those around them.

Emperor Caracalla leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. “Do you see how they struggle? Like ants in a flood, all their efforts meaningless. Yet, it's so entertaining.”

You nodded absently, your mind half-focused on the battle. The cruelty of the emperors was a constant presence, but you found yourself oddly captivated by the sheer spectacle of the naval engagement. Each cannon blast, each desperate maneuver, drew you in deeper.

Marcus was away, speaking with the other generals, his face drawn and pale when he returned. He immediately noticed your distress. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. He took your hand, squeezing it gently, his own fear and worry evident in his eyes. “I hate this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I can’t look away.”

Marcus’s eyes darkened with understanding. “That’s their power,” he said softly. “They make us complicit in their cruelty.”

Emperor Geta’s voice interrupted your exchange. “Ah, Marcus. Come, sit with us. Enjoy the show.”

Reluctantly, Marcus guided you to sit beside him, his grip on your hand tight. The emperors’ attention shifted back to the battle, their comments filled with a sickly admiration for the carnage. “Look at that,” Geta exclaimed as another ship went down, “such bravery wasted on a lost cause.”

Caracalla chuckled darkly. “Indeed. It’s fascinating how they cling to hope even in the face of certain death.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. He leaned in closer to you. “They won’t talk about the true cost,” he said, his voice barely audible. “The lives lost, the families left behind. To them, it’s all just a game.”

You nodded, your hand tightening around his. The brutal display below was more than just a show; it was a reminder of the emperors' absolute power and the fragility of your position. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the deafening roar of the crowd, a relentless assault on your senses. You could barely focus on the battles, your mind racing with fear and the need to stay strong for Marcus.

The next gladiators entered the arena, their expressions a mixture of determination and resignation. As they clashed, you tried to avoid looking at the bloodshed, but the emperors' voices cut through your resolve. "Watch carefully," Caracalla commanded, his tone devoid of empathy. "This is where men are forged."

Marcus’s hand trembled in yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as if it were your own. He kept his eyes on the fighters, but you could see the haunted look in his gaze, memories of his own time in the arena flooding back. His muscles were tense, every fiber of his being screaming to protect you, to fight against the fate they were trying to impose on you both.

With each brutal kill, the emperors’ excitement grew. They leaned forward, shouting encouragement and jeering at the combatants, their faces alight with sadistic pleasure. "Ah, there it is!" Geta exclaimed as a particularly gruesome decapitation took place. "Such skill, such beauty in the art of death."

You pressed closer to Marcus, trying to shield yourself from the horror unfolding below. "We have to find a way out," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We can’t let them do this to us."

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving the arena. "I know," he said, his voice strained. "But we have to be careful. They’re watching our every move."

The next fight began, even more savage than the last. You felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the relentless violence. Marcus’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded, a lifeline in the sea of blood and death.

The emperors’ voices grew louder, their laughter echoing around the coliseum. “You see, Marcus,” Geta said, turning to him with a predatory smile. “This is why we miss you. Your fights were always the highlight, full of glory and gore. These men… they lack your finesse.”

Marcus stiffened beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely controlled fear and anger simmering beneath the surface. His breath was shallow, his eyes darting nervously around the coliseum. The confident warrior you knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by a man haunted by his past.

Caracalla leaned in, his gaze fixed on the arena below where a mere boy, no older than twelve, was being led out. The tiger, a majestic and deadly creature, prowled on the other side, its eyes gleaming with hunger. “Tell us, Marcus,” Caracalla said with a sinister gleam in his eye, “who do you favor? The boy or the beast?”

A chill ran down your spine, and you found your voice. “This is madness,” you protested, your voice trembling. “He’s just a child!”

Geta’s gaze snapped to you, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Silence,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Marcus will speak for himself.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between the boy and the tiger. He looked like a man on the edge, torn between his desire to protect and his fear of the consequences. “Neither,” he said finally, his voice shaky. “This isn’t a fight. It’s a slaughter.”

Caracalla’s laughter was a harsh, grating sound. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The unpredictability, the thrill of survival against impossible odds.”

You wanted to scream, to protest further, but the emperors’ power was absolute. You could only watch in horror as the scene below unfolded. The boy looked terrified, his small frame trembling as he faced the tiger. The crowd’s bloodthirsty roars grew louder, drowning out any semblance of reason.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus’s hand tightened around yours, the pressure almost painful. You felt his body tremble, each muscle tense with a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes were fixed on the boy and the tiger, a haunted look replacing the confidence you once knew. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, betraying the inner turmoil he was desperately trying to contain.

“No!” you exclaimed, unable to contain yourself. “He’s not your puppet. He’s not here for your entertainment.”

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto you with a predatory intensity. “Such spirit,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Marcus, you are a lucky man.”

The words seemed to cut through Marcus like a blade. He turned to you, his eyes wide and wild. “Stop,” he hissed, his voice low and trembling with fear. “Just stop. You’re making it worse.”

You felt a pang of hurt at his harsh words, but you knew he was scared. You squeezed his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he pulled away, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the emperors.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus didn’t protest this time. He didn’t argue or try to reason with them. He simply stood there, his body rigid, his face pale. You could see the fear in his eyes, the memories of past battles and bloodshed that haunted him.

“Marcus, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desperation. “I have no choice,” he said softly. “They leave me none.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "What exactly are the terms?" you asked, your voice firmer than you felt.

The emperors exchanged amused glances. Geta leaned forward, a predatory smile on his lips. "If Marcus wins, he may choose any residence owned by us as a treat for his newlywed wife. A generous offer, wouldn't you say?"

"And if he loses?" you pressed, your stomach twisting with dread.

Caracalla's smile was a twisted mockery of kindness. "If he loses, he will fight for all of Rome again. But this time, he will take the place of the boy who is supposed to fight the lion."

Your blood ran cold at the thought. "This is madness," you whispered, barely able to contain your horror. "You're talking about a man's life as if it's a game."

"Everything is a game, my dear," Geta replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "And Marcus knows the rules better than anyone."

Marcus stood there, his face pale, his body trembling with a mix of fear and determination. He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "I will do what I must," he said softly. "For us."

“No, Marcus, you can't,” you protested, your voice breaking. “There has to be another way.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I have no choice,” he repeated, the words a hollow echo of resignation.

Before you could say more, the emperors' guards stepped forward, their grips firm and unyielding as they held you back, you struggled against them, your desperation mounting. “Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. “He’s not your pawn!”

Geta's cold eyes locked onto you, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Such fire,” he mused, almost to himself. “But Marcus knows his duty.”

Caracalla laughed, the sound grating and malevolent. “Watch closely, my dear,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You might learn something about true power.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as Marcus turned away, walking slowly toward the arena's entrance. The boy and the tiger were being led back into their cages, the boy’s terrified eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he disappeared from view. Your heart ached for him, but it was Marcus who now faced the same deadly fate.

As the gates closed behind Marcus, you were left standing at the edge of the arena, your hands clenched into fists. The crowd’s roars grew louder, their bloodlust palpable. You sank into your seat, your body trembling with fear and helplessness.

Moments stretched into an eternity, each second marked by the deafening cheers of the spectators. Finally, Marcus emerged, clad in armor and wielding a sword. His face was a mask of determination, but you could see the fear in his eyes. He looked up at you, and you mouthed silently, “I believe in you.”

The gate opposite Marcus creaked open, and the tiger was released. It prowled forward, its muscles rippling under its striped fur, eyes locked onto Marcus with predatory intent. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation.

“Look at him,” Geta murmured to Caracalla, his voice barely audible over the din. “Still has that fire in him, even after all this time.”

Caracalla nodded a twisted smile on his lips. “It’s what makes him so entertaining. Let’s see if he still has the skill to match.”

You clung to your seat, your heart racing as you watched the tiger circle Marcus. Every fiber of your being was focused on him, silently willing him to survive. The arena seemed to shrink, the world narrowing to the deadly dance between man and beast.

Marcus moved with a cautious grace, his sword held steady. The tiger lunged, and he sidestepped, bringing his blade down in a swift arc. The tiger snarled, more angry than hurt, and the battle truly began.

Each clash was a test of Marcus’s skill and endurance. The tiger’s powerful swipes and lunges were met with precise parries and counterattacks. The crowd roared with every close call, their bloodthirsty excitement a constant backdrop to the deadly struggle.

Geta leaned closer to Caracalla, his eyes gleaming with interest. “He’s slower than he used to be,” he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“But still formidable,” Caracalla replied, his gaze never leaving the arena. “Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

Your eyes never left Marcus, every movement of his sword, every step he took etched into your mind. You saw the strain in his posture, the weariness beginning to show. But you also saw his determination, the fire that drove him to protect you and fight for your future.

The tiger lunged again, and Marcus sidestepped, thrusting his sword into the beast’s side. The tiger roared in pain, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down. Marcus circled, his breathing heavy, his eyes focused on the next move.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. “Come on, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd. “You can do this.”

The emperors’ eyes were fixed on the battle, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. “He still has some fight in him,” Geta remarked, his tone almost admiring.

Caracalla smirked. “Let’s see if he can finish it.”

With a final, desperate lunge, Marcus brought his sword down with all his strength. The blade struck true, piercing the tiger’s heart. The beast collapsed with a final roar, its body twitching in its death throes.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their bloodlust satisfied. Marcus stood there, panting and covered in sweat, his eyes searching the crowd until they found yours. He nodded once, a silent promise that he would come back to you.

Geta clapped his hands, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “Well done, Marcus,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. “You have earned your reward.”

Marcus approached, his steps unsteady but his resolve unwavering. “We did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and love. “We made it.”

As soon as he reached you, your emotions overwhelmed you, and tears began to fall. You couldn’t hold them back any longer. The fear, the violence, the constant threat—it all came pouring out. Marcus wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as sobs wracked your body. “It’s over,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “We’re safe now.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world outside fading away. But the respite was short-lived. The emperors, ever impatient, approached with their questions.

“What residence do you desire, Marcus?” Geta asked, his tone dismissive of your pain. “You must choose.”

Marcus looked up, his eyes hardening with determination. “A residence close to the villa near Calacari,” he said firmly. “It’s secluded and secure.”

Caracalla nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Very well. It will be arranged. Now, go and clean yourself. The blood is rather unbecoming.”

Marcus turned back to you, his eyes filled with concern. “Let’s get out of here,” he said gently, guiding you towards the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a haven of calm, the warm steam rising in gentle curls, a stark contrast to the brutal scene you had just left. Marcus began to strip off his bloodstained clothes, wincing with each movement. You stepped forward to help, your fingers trembling as you undid the clasps and buttons. As his shirt came off, you gasped at the sight of new scars marring his skin.

“Marcus…” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re hurt.”

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. “I’m alright. It looks worse than it is.”

You gently traced the lines of the scars, your touch soft and tender. “I hate seeing you like this,” you said, tears welling up again. “I wish I could take your pain away.”

Marcus smiled, a hint of his usual playful self returning. “You already do, just by being here with me.”

You helped him into the warm water, your movements careful and precise. As he sank into the bath, he let out a sigh of relief. You joined him, sitting beside him and gently washing away the blood and grime. The tension in his body gradually eased, though the pain was still evident in his eyes.

Despite the sadness, you couldn’t help but try to lighten the mood. “You know,” you said with a small smile, “I think I’m starting to enjoy taking care of you like this.”

Marcus chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could get used to it,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Once we’re back in our own bed, I’ll take even better care of you,” you whispered, your tone both sweet and flirty.

His eyes darkened with desire, but as he tried to pull you closer, a sharp pain made him wince. “Maybe we should wait until I’m a bit more recovered,” he admitted, his voice strained.

You nodded, understanding and concern in your eyes. “Of course,” you said softly. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Marcus smiled, his love for you shining through the pain. “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” he said, his hand gently caressing your arm. “Right now, let’s just be together.”

You sat in the bathhouse, the warm water soothing your tired bodies, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you could face anything. Marcus’s presence was your anchor, and together, you would find your way back to peace and happiness.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The storm had passed, and now, it was time to heal and rebuild. With Marcus by your side, you knew that anything was possible.

After a long while of comfortable silence, you finally spoke, your voice soft but firm. “Marcus,” you began, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “You can never, ever go silent on me like that again. Do you understand? The fear of not knowing what you were thinking, what you were feeling—it’s unbearable. If you ever do, you’ll have something far worse than a lion to face.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, then slowly nodded. “I promise,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I will never shut you out again.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Good,” you whispered. “Because we face everything together, remember?”

“Always,” he replied, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

The weekend from hell was over. Between Aurelia's pregnancy and the gladiators, you and Marcus were emotionally drained. But one question still lingered. "Why the emperor's residence near Calacari?" you asked as the carriage rolled along the uneven roads, taking you away from the horrors of the coliseum.

Marcus looked at you, his eyes softening with tenderness. "It’s not just for us," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "It's for your mother."

You frowned, confusion knitting your brow. "My mother? Why would you care about where she lives?"

He took a deep breath, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Remember when you told me about your father? How you feared he might leave your mother with nothing? I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone, vulnerable. This villa isn't on the water but further inland, so it won’t worsen her fear of the sea. She can live there with or without him, and she can stay by us whenever she wants."

You blinked, absorbing his words. "You thought of all that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes. I want her to have a safe place, a sanctuary. Just like I want for us. Life under Rome's rule is too cruel, too unpredictable. We deserve a place where we can be happy, away from the chaos."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought to keep them from spilling over. Instead, you leaned in and kissed him passionately, pouring all your gratitude and love into that one kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, "Never ever go silent on me like that again, Marcus. You scared me. You’ll have something worse than a lion on your hands if you do."

He chuckled softly, a genuine smile breaking through his weary expression. "I promise," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't go silent on you again."

The carriage hit a bump, jolting you both, and you clung to Marcus, who winced in pain. "Are you alright?" you asked, your concern immediate.

He nodded, though his face betrayed the discomfort he felt. "I’m fine," he said, but his voice cracked, revealing the truth. "I miss the days when our biggest worry was a petty argument or growing pains. Now, I can't even have my wife on my lap without feeling like my body is falling apart."

Your heart ached for him, and you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "We'll get through this, Marcus. Together. We’ll find peace and happiness, away from Rome’s cruelty."

Marcus sighed, leaning into your touch. "I hope so. I dream of a life where we can wake up to the sound of birds, not the roar of the crowd. A place where we can raise our children without fear."

You smiled, the vision of that future giving you strength. "We’ll make it happen. We’ll build that life, one day at a time."

Marcus smiled back at you, his eyes twinkling with a glimmer of hope. "I believe you, but how soon are we talking?" he asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "I don't think I can stand another day in Rome's chaos."

You chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "Patience, my love. We’ll get there. But first, we need to survive the next few months."

Marcus groaned dramatically. "Months? You're killing me. I was hoping for days, maybe weeks."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, stop it. You know it’ll take time to arrange everything."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "I guess I'll just have to endure your company in the meantime."

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. "Endure, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I wouldn't trade a moment of it, not for anything," he said softly. "Even if it means dealing with your father’s wrath when we get back."

You sighed, the reality of your situation creeping back in. "He’s not going to take the news well, is he?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, probably not. But we’ll face it together. Just like we’ve faced everything else."

You nodded, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "Together," you echoed, the word a promise as much as a reassurance.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Losing his cool

Heyy guyss, I hope you enjoy this reader x Lewis one shot :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The sun was shining high over the paddock, casting a warm glow over the Mercedes motorhome. You loved coming to the races whenever you could, always excited to support George, your younger brother, but also to soak in the electric atmosphere of the track.

Today, though, you were enjoying a rare moment of quiet, sitting comfortably on one of the sofas in the motorhome, your oversized sunglasses perched on your nose and your outfit, as always, effortlessly stylish.

As you scrolled through your phone, you felt a soft nudge against your leg. Glancing down, you saw Roscoe, looking up at you with those big, round eyes, his tail wagging with excitement.

"Well, hello there, handsome," you said with a smile, bending down to give him a scratch behind the ears. Roscoe flopped down at your feet, clearly in the mood for attention, and nudged a toy toward you. With a chuckle, you picked it up and started a gentle game of tug-of-war. His playful growls filled the motorhome, and you found yourself laughing as you pulled the toy from side to side, completely engrossed in the moment.

Lewis’s Perspective

Lewis walked out of a debriefing, looking forward to taking a breather in the motorhome. But as soon as he stepped out into the paddock, he noticed something — Roscoe was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow, scanning the area, wondering where his adventurous pup had wandered off to.

“Where’s Roscoe?” he mumbled, heading toward the motorhome. As soon as he stepped inside, his heart did a quick flip.

There you were — George’s older sister, casually lounging on the sofa, your smile lighting up the room as you played with Roscoe. He stood there for a moment, frozen.

From the first time Lewis had met you, you had an effect on him. You were effortlessly stylish, funny, and kind. Since that moment, he’d developed a quiet crush on you. The only problem? Whenever you were around, his confidence seemed to vanish.

Roscoe, sensing his presence, bounded over to him, wagging his tail.

“Oh, there you are,” you said, looking up with a grin. “I was starting to think I’d have to keep Roscoe for myself.”

Lewis chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, he’s good at wandering off. Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," you replied, giving Roscoe one last pat before sitting up. "He’s great company."

Lewis felt the heat rise to his face, trying to hide how flustered he was. "He’s... yeah, he’s a good boy."

You smiled, tilting your head slightly. "So, what about you? How’ve you been? George told me you're are getting into music again, what’s on your playlist these days?"

The sudden switch in conversation threw him off guard. "Uh, playlist?" He cleared his throat, his mind racing to come up with an answer. "I’ve been listening to a lot of old-school hip-hop lately. Kendrick Lamar, a bit of J. Cole. Stuff like that."

Your eyes lit up with interest. "Kendrick, huh? Didn’t take you for a hip-hop fan. I like that." You leaned in slightly. "I’ve been obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter lately, especially her new album,."

Lewis grinned, feeling a bit more comfortable. "Sabrina is great. I'm not into pop music but I do like her songs, besides, I've heard that her live shows are insane, too."

You nodded, your gaze locked on his. "I bet. I’ve been dying to see her live. Maybe we should go to a concert sometime."

He froze at your words, his mind momentarily blank. Did you just suggest going to a concert together? He quickly tried to play it off casually. "Yeah, that could be fun."

You leaned back with a teasing smirk. "Could be?"

Lewis laughed awkwardly, his nerves creeping back in. "I mean, it would be fun. Definitely."

"That’s more like it." You gave him a playful wink, and Lewis couldn’t help but smile, though his heart was racing.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression softening. "So, how’s your break been? Any big plans?"

Lewis shifted, trying to keep his cool. "It’s been good. Spent some time hiking in Colorado with Roscoe. It was nice to get away from everything for a bit, you know?"

"Colorado sounds amazing," you said, your eyes lighting up. "I’ve always wanted to go hiking out there. Maybe you can show me around sometime?"

Lewis blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to be so direct. "Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re ever out there…"

You smiled, clearly amused by his nervousness. "I’ll hold you to that."

As the conversation continued, Lewis found himself relaxing more, enjoying your company as you chatted about music, travel, and everything in between. But when the conversation lulled, you stood up, brushing a hand through Roscoe’s fur one last time.

"Well, it was nice catching up with you," you said, smiling warmly at him. "And since you’ve been dodging the question all afternoon… how about I make it easy for you?"

Lewis blinked, confused. "Question? What question?"

You laughed softly, stepping closer. "I know you’re not going to ask me out, so... how about I ask you instead?" Your tone was playful, but your eyes held his steadily. "What do you say, Lewis? Dinner next weekend?"

Lewis’s heart nearly stopped. He hadn’t seen that coming at all. His mind raced, trying to process the fact that you had just asked him out. "You... want to go out with me?"

You grinned, shaking your head at his surprise. "Yes, Lewis. I want to go out with you. What do you think?"

His nerves suddenly melted away, replaced by a wave of excitement. "I’d love that," he said, his voice a bit more confident now.

"Good," you said, giving him one last playful smile before turning to leave. "I’ll text you."

As you walked away, Lewis stood there, dumbfounded but grinning from ear to ear. Roscoe barked softly, as if to say, It’s about time.

Lewis shook his head, still in disbelief. "Yeah, Roscoe," he muttered, glancing down at his dog. "It’s about time."

[kingkat12]

long legs (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, foul language, roman is an ass as always

summary: you should've known better before you started dating the CEO of Godfrey Industries-- obviously.

word count: 3,335 PART 2: here!

Have you ever felt like you're stuck in an eternal revolving door, and then suddenly you're standing still? That was my life right now; I was standing still with Roman. We had only gone out on a few dates, sure— but I couldn't help but feel that something was different this time. This was a guy I felt like I could finally settle with. Four hour long conversations could feel like fifteen minutes, and the fact that he was the CEO of his own company also added on as a bonus; my life with him would be a life of comfort. Amazing sex and comfort.

I let out a satisfied sigh as my friends and I finally got up from our dinner table; dinner was good, life was good, my relationship was good. What was there not to like? We continued exchanging jokes at the expense of some girl we suddenly remembered from high school, reminiscing, and I had to take a step back; I couldn't believe how amazing my life was at the moment.

As I felt one of my friends nudge me, I blushed, letting out a nervous laugh as I realized I had disconnected from the previous conversation. "Sorry, girls, I've just been so swept up with Roman—"

"Yeah, we know," One of my girlfriends grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around so that I was facing the other end of the restaurant. "But isn't that him?"

They were right; at the other end of the restaurant, sat Roman. With a woman with legs for days. Laughing. I froze, not knowing what to say or do— he hadn't noticed me yet and was probably not going to, by the rate he was checking out the woman in front of him. 

"Come on, let's go," said another friend, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's not worth it, really."

I hated the pity in her voice. I hated everything about this. But me being me, I knew I had to either let it slide or retaliate— and obviously, I'd choose the latter.

I got out of my friend's grip, making my way over to his table with confident strides, shaking off the shock in my system. I watched as Roman's green, charming eyes suddenly found me, rounding out. It was clear that he was trying to save face as he suddenly broke out into a slight chuckle, looking rather intrigued as I approached.

I smiled politely, now standing in front of him. "Roman, what a surprise!" I did my best to sound as casual possible and not like my heart was being kicked and spat at. 

"Surprise indeed!" he said, smiling right back up at me with no shame. "This is Cynthia, by the way." 

Had we not been in public, I would've hit his head with my purse. Instead, being the calm and collected woman I masked myself to be for now, I turned to Cynthia, shaking her hand as we got introduced. I wanted nothing more than to run away and wash my hands. 

With a cool demeanour, I turned to Roman; "Could we talk?"

He cleared his throat, clearly not too happy about the interruption. "Sure," he mumbled, sending Cynthia a charming smile as he got up, following me a few steps away from the table.

"What's this?" I said, letting my smile fall just a smidge. "A date?"

Roman cocked his head to the side, scanning me. "Sure is,"

"... You said you had a business thing,"

"A dinner thing,"

"Oh, is that right?" I took a proper look at him; suited up, hair styled back, smelling like his usual date-cologne. Had this been any other instance, I would've jumped him already. However, there was nothing I wanted more than to smack him and run away crying. "So how many women are you dating, exactly?"

Roman shrugged; "In the tristate area?"

My jaw fell, shocked. I knew we weren't exclusive and I tried to remind myself of that, but I had my pride to protect. If I would date anyone else right now, it would feel like stuffing an already packed luggage— I didn't want to, nor could I. So how could he?

Roman sighed, glancing back at his date before turning back to me, putting a patronizing hand on my shoulder; "Look, I'm a little busy, but I'll give you a call. Alright?"

Angered, I smacked his hand off of me. I refused to be treated this way. "Call all you want, but don't expect an answer. Good night, Roman," I took a sharp turn on my heel, my eye twitching as I held back the urge to burst into tears. 

As I reached my friends again, I was immediately embraced as we left the restaurant together. 

"He looked shellshocked, my God!" one of them said. "What did you tell him?"

I sniffled; "Not to call me anymore. I'm not going to deal with this bullshit,"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

My phone had rung about seventeen times and I was itching to answer. I laid in my bed that same night, a small tear rolling down my cheek; why did I always do this to myself? Why did I get so swept up in every man I met? I tried to make myself feel better by concluding I wasn't like this with every man— Roman was an exception. Roman was different.

But Roman was also an ass.

I groaned, watching another call come in. I had enough of this. Deciding to take action, I finally answered his eighteenth call; "Roman, I am only answering to tell you to stop calling!—"

"Just hear me out!" he said. "Just... Just hear me out, okay? Could you do that for me?" 

Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow, going quiet as I put my phone on speaker next to me. 

My silence told him everything he needed. "Look, I didn't know you thought we were exclusive. I should've gotten that cleared up, perhaps—"

"I thought that was obvious," I grumbled into my pillow.

A sigh; "Maybe it was. And maybe I'm just about the biggest jerk in Pennsylvania. Anyway, I'm calling to say sorry. I really thought you were dating other people as well,"

I lifted my head up from the pillow. "And that wouldn't bother you?" I pondered out loud. "If I went out with someone else?"

This is where Roman went quiet. "Well, it's not the most pleasant thought... I suppose I've dulled it down by seeing other people,"

Somehow, I didn't buy it. "Did you sleep with them?"

"Who?"

"All the women with stupidly long legs in the tristate area,"

I heard a loud sigh on the other end; "I thought you were sleeping with others too,"

"Yeah, right," I sat up in my bed, taking the phone off speaker mode and pressing it up against my ear. "This is not how I roll, Roman, and you know this. If you need loose girls to sleep with, have your pick at anyone else, I don't care. I was dead serious about you, about us, and you just... Yeah, screw you. Have a nice life."

I heard him protest as I finally ended the call, burying my face back into my pillow, muffling a scream. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next night, I had decided to go out and bury my mind in whatever cheap alcohol I could find. I stepped away from my friends at the party, making my way back to the bar for the third time tonight, not dull enough for my liking yet. 

Sighing, I sat down at the bar, ordering the usual. I hoped that the next drink would drown out all thoughts of Roman Godfrey, his green eyes, the image of him between my legs, and the image of Cynthia and her legs. I should've listened to my friends when they said he only dated models— why had he even looked at me in the first place, bothered me by entering my life and just existed in my vicinity? 

Asshole.

As I finally got my drink, bringing it up to my lips, the man next to me spoke up; "I don't think you should have another one of those,"

Turning to face him, I wondered where I had seen him before. "... Peter?"

I remembered Peter from the time we interned at the law firm together. He quit a while ago, but not before he had managed to kiss the life out of me in the elevator that one evening. A bright smile spread across my face as I put my drink down, embracing him. "Oh, Peter, it's so nice to see you!"

Peter, dressed in black as usual, beamed right back at me, his hand resting on my back. "I've been wondering if it was you all night," he said, pulling away from the hug with a chuckle. "You look good."

I did a little twirl, giggling— maybe the alcohol was finally getting to me, after all. "You think?"

Amused, Peter nodded; "As always,"

I sat down on my chair with a satisfied sigh. "I can't believe you're back in Pennsylvania," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "What brings you back?"

"Nothing special, really," Peter gave me a look, but didn't say anything about the fact that I was continuing to drink. "Just nice to take a trip back home. To see a familiar face in the crowd. You'll get it once you get out of here, yourself." 

I shook my head; "I'm not moving,"

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I used to have a good reason before I caught Roman with Ms. Long Legs. "I'm doing good at the firm. And guys here are prettier than in any other state I've been in."

Peter chuckled, rolling his eyes; "I see you're still single,"

His words made my heart sink. "It seems I am," I took a rather big sip of my drink, hating that I was right back to square one again. "I thought I'd be in a different place by now, I suppose. I don't get what I'm doing wrong."

Peter moved closer, giving me a sigh of empathy. "You always go for the bad guys," he mumbled. "The unavailable ones. Am I right, or was this only when you were an intern?"

Embarrassed, I nodded; "I guess," 

Peter watched as I took another sip of my drink, finally getting enough of it; he put his hand over mine, gently forcing the drink back down on the table, his hand lingering on top of mine. "I'm a nice guy,"

My eyes widened, finally meeting his gaze. Was this going the way I thought this was going? I watched his pupils expand, the brown in his eyes shimmering with hope. "Give me a chance," Peter said. "Us. The chance we should've had all those years ago."

I held my breath-- I wanted to give in, relent.

"Come to my place tonight," he continued, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Let me treat you right, for once."

I was so close to giving in, saying yes and settling for something good for my soul. However, my heart was screaming— I couldn't do this while I was still crazy about Roman fucking Godfrey, the biggest asshole on the planet. The asshole who got me flowers before every date, brought me coffee to my work when he was free, gave me the best orgasm I had ever had in my life in the back of a cab, and bought me a fucking Birkin when he went to Venice. 

"I—" I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. This was Peter; I didn't want to hurt the sweetest guy I had ever known. Before I could give him an answer, I needed an answer for myself; "Hold that thought, Peter, I'll be right back."

I got up, making my way to the outskirts of the party with hurried steps. Finally drunk enough for this stunt, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling the guy I had sworn to myself I would never call again; "Roman?"

I didn't have to see him to know he was smirking. "Hey you,"

Beaming at the sound of his voice, I felt the hurt in my soul being mended by the second. I had craved this all day, every minute, every second. However, I knew I had to pull myself together. "I'm just calling to let you know I'm going home with someone else tonight,"

"... Are you drunk?"

I huffed, offended despite the correct guess. "Am not!" 

"So this loud music is just something you play in your room at three in the morning?"

I had to do everything in my power to not hit myself. "I'm calling to say that you screwed up,"

A sigh; "Where are you?"

Grimacing, I wondered why he wanted that information. There was no way in hell I'd give it to him, anyways. "His name is Peter. He's super sweet, we used to work together, and he doesn't need me to have long, model legs,"

"... I like your legs,"

I rolled my eyes; of course he'd say that. 

"Quite frankly, I miss your legs... dearly,"

Doing my best to not become a puddle of mush on the floor, I had to shake my head to come to my senses. "Well, good luck missing them, because they'll never be anywhere near you again!"

Roman got silent at the end of the phone, clearly moving around wherever he was at the moment. "I'm coming. Where are you?"

I glanced back at the party, scanning my surrounding. To be frank, I wasn't so sure. "Somewhere near Clifford Park," My eyes widened-- had I just blurted that out?

"Clifford Park," he echoed. I heard the jangling of keys and the shuffling of what I could only deduct were jackets. "Meet me at the front gate."

"No, I'm leaving with Peter," I said, sticking to my plan despite how hard my heart was beating at the thought of Roman racing to meet me.

"Yeah, sure you are," I heard a door close on the other end. "Fifteen minutes. Be there."

Realizing he had ended the call, I did a small jump of glee before pulling myself together. It suddenly dawned on me what I had roped myself into.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It hit me that I was in Clifford Park at half past four in the morning. Having waited nearly half an hour, leaving the party behind, I started feeling more and more like a fool. Why had I agreed to this? Peter was definitely right; I always went for the wrong guys.

I was about to leave and get a cab until I saw a familiar silhouette in a long, dark coat nearing me. 

"This is not the front gate," Roman said, walking towards me like he didn't have a care in the world, hands tucked into his pockets. His voice had a hint of frustration, which only made me further upset.

"It is!" I said, wrapping myself further up in my jacket. "This is the front gate!"

"No, this is the back,"

"It isn't!" I let out a big huff, my eyes narrowing as he finally caught up to me, his face illuminated by the lamp we were standing under. The hues of orange and black complimented him, the green in his eyes practically sparkling. 

Despite being breathless by the sight of him, my angered pride simmered in my chest; "I have been waiting for you for half an hour,"

Roman let out a groan, clearly frustrated as well; "I came about fifteen minutes ago, spent ten minutes waiting for you at the front gate, and then finally came all the way around here after having an unexpected jog in hopes of not finding you killed on the curb,"

Taken aback, I shut down the upcoming trail of curses. He had... worried about me? "Why are you here?" I finally asked. "Why did you come?"

Roman ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. I was pleasantly surprised to see him like this— hair not styled, dressed in casual wear, lips parted as he tried to find the right words. "There's been a big misunderstanding,"

"Clearly,"

Roman nodded to himself, his gaze falling down to his feet. "I thought this was casual,"

This was not what I wanted to hear. Still a little drunk, I started to turn around, ready to walk away from him. I didn't have the energy to waste any more time on him than I already had. 

However, Roman simply followed; "And where do you think you're going in those heels?"

"Anywhere," I mumbled. "I don't want to hear this again."

"You're not even going to hear me out?" he said, a hint of a whine in his voice. "After I came to see you at half past four in the morning in a random park? How often do you think I do this, huh?"

I stopped, feeling my feet ache from the heels. He had a point. I turned around with a hardened gaze, meeting his, my heart beating hard in my chest. 

Roman took my silence as a means for him to speak; "Look, I'll come clean. I've been going out with others, sleeping with others, and I've been doing it to dull down the ache I get when I think of you doing the same,"

I blinked twice. "That doesn't make any sense,"

"Yeah... maybe it doesn't," Roman sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm just used to the girls I'm dating still... dating others, I suppose. I couldn't even bring myself to think you'd be different about it, I just thought that this was how the world worked. Like, imagine I ask for exclusivity and you just... run?"

"I wouldn't run," I took in his every word, not meeting his eyes anymore. I couldn't look at him when he looked so pretty. "I thought I was clear that you were the only one for me.”

There was a twinge of hurt on display in Roman's eyes; "I thought that was just something you told everyone..."

Sighing, I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. How was it possible for such a successful man to be so unsuccessful in his deductions? "And the flowers? Is that also something you give everyone?"

"No,"

"Who else did you bring coffee to while they were at work?"

"No one,"

I finally looked back up at him, my pulse rising as a sliver of hope returned to my body. Why should I believe him? God, how I wanted to.

Roman took a step towards me; "You think my position at my company allows me to run coffee errands everywhere?"

I shrugged— I had no idea.

"You think it's easy to get a Birkin, let alone multiple?"

Embarrassed, I looked away again. I didn't need him to know how little I knew about Birkins. 

Roman sighed, running his hand through his soft, brown hair once more. "I've been driving myself crazy about you, y'know? Have you ever had the feeling that you've been... Fuck, I don't know how to properly explain, but like... have you ever felt like you're in an eternal revolving door and then suddenly you're standing still?"

My head turned to him as though I had heard a gunshot. "I have,"

Roman put his hands back in his pockets, chewing his lip. It was clear that he was anxious— I hadn't seen him like this before. Ever. "I'm so tired of running. I'm so tired of others. I just... want to stand still. With you,"

I bit down my growing smile. This was all I had ever wanted to hear. "Even when it's half past four and the standing takes place at Clifford Park?"

Roman let out a slight chuckle; "Especially when it's in Clifford Park,"

"The best place in the world," I said, feeling remnants of happy tears start to poke through my exterior. "Definitely not the third most dangerous park in the state."

"Yeah, fuck," Roman broke out into a smile, his laugh being pure music to my ears. "Let's stand still somewhere else. What do you say about standing still outside the coffee shop until it opens?"

Suddenly, I didn't feel so doomed anymore. I didn't need to start from square one again-- this was it. We both knew it now. "Sounds good,"

Roman hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we started our stride. He leaned down to press a kiss against the top of my head; "I missed you. I don't ever want to miss you again,"

link to part two here<3

[givemefevrr]

I just read your dom!enha post and jake ?? mr sim ?? the thought of him being possessive ??? ugh I'm the weakest soldier out there !! him seeing you run into your ex and just have a simple convo yet he gets moody af for the few next days without telling why he's suddenly like this then all this ending up in an angry sex ?? pleaseeeeeeee write it in your words I can't do this myself !!! love you in advance

- 🌷 anon

Is It Him or Me? (NSFW)

Pairings: possessive dom!Jake x fem!reader

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, light angst, rough sex, angry sex (all consentual), swearing, fingering, edging (?), cum eating (?), teasing, begging, overstimulation, kissing, dry humping, biting/marking, facials, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), Heeseung is your ex

Jake is a great boyfriend. He absolutely adores you, and whenever you are out together, he always holds your hand and steals kisses whenever he can. And that's exactly what is occurring right now. 

Standing in line at a cafe, waiting to order, you couldn't help but giggle and squirm as Jake nuzzled into your neck, peppering your skin with soft, tickling kisses. Jake had been talking about bringing you here for months, as this was his favorite coffee joint, which he used to work at all through high school. It's on the other side of town, so it was a bit of a trip. But he chose the perfect day to bring you.

"Stop it, Jake, that tickles," you playfully protest, gently pushing him away amidst your laughter. 

With a grin and sparkling eyes, Jake teased, "But you love it when I tickle you," punctuating his words with a lingering kiss on your cheek.

Suppressing your laughter, you swatted at him. "Not in public, you goof," you replied, noticing amused glances from others in the line.

Jake chuckled, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned his attention to the menu. "So, what are you in the mood for?" he asked, excitement radiating from him–practically making him vibrate.

"Hmm, what would you recommend, Mr. Barista?" You asked, scanning the menu before smiling up at Jake.

Eyes lighting up, Jake exclaimed, "Vanilla latte, of course! That's what I'm getting. Their vanilla lattes are the best. Well, at least when I worked here, they were." 

You scoffed at his pride but ultimately decided on the vanilla latte. 

But then you saw him. The bell atop the door chimed, a gust of wind blowing into the cafe upon their entrance. The familiar man seemed to recognize you, too, as he locked eyes with you and walked over. 

It's your ex-boyfriend. 

It's not like the two of you left off on bad terms, but you guys haven't talked or seen each other since the breakup, making this incredibly awkward. 

"Hey," your ex greeted, approaching you with a friendly smile.

You glanced at Jake slightly before answering, the boy paying little attention to the conversation. Responding with forced nonchalance, you exchanged pleasantries, hoping the conversation would end soon.

"I didn't expect to run into you here," your ex continued, "It's quite a trip from Hillsdale, huh?"

It's weird, considering you both live in the same town, yet he coincidentally showed up in the same cafe, almost 45 minutes away, at the same time as you. 

"Yeah, it's just a day trip," you nod. 

He nods, too, the awkwardness becoming increasingly more apparent the longer the conversation continues. 

"So, how have you been? What have you been up to? You look good," he complimented, looking you up and down.

"Ah, I've been great. I finally got a temp job for that marketing company downtown," you smiled softly, proud of your achievements.

"That's amazing! Yeah, I work at a car dealership about 10 minutes away from this place now. What a coincidence, though," he chuckled, finally becoming aware of Jake standing beside him. "Who's this?"

"Oh, Jake. This is Heeseung," you glanced at Jake once more. "My ex," you added a bit quieter, noticing that you'd caught the attention of other people around you.

You could feel Jake's grip on your hand tightening upon hearing that Heeseung was your ex, but he said nothing–masking any discomfort with a forced smile. 

"Heeseung, this is my boyfriend, Jake." Heeseung looked like a deer in headlights, an embarrassed flush rising on his neck as he let out a matching embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, my bad, man. I didn't even know," he laughed, sticking a hand towards Jake for a truce.

Jake wore a small, forced smile and shook Heeseung's hand. "You're all good," he replied.

"Well, I'll leave you two be." Heeseung looked back at you. "We'll have to catch up again sometime," he said before walking to the back of the line. 

After he left, there was a silence between you and Jake. You leaned into his shoulder slightly, cuddling up to him, as cuddles always made him feel better. Feeling uncomfortable, you broke the silence and said, "Well, it was nice seeing him again, I guess."

Jake nodded but didn't say anything, his grip on your hand tightening as you both stood in line at the cafe.

When it was your turn to order, you excitedly ordered the vanilla latte Jake recommended. However, Jake didn't even bother getting anything for himself, even though this was allegedly his favorite place. He put a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and mumbled for the cashier to keep the change, around $15. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

As your drink was being made, you and Jake waited by the to-go station. When the kind barista boy handed you your drink and said, "Have a great day. I hope you enjoy the nice weather," you reached out to take it.

But Jake beat you to it, grabbing it from the boy and handing it to you instead. "Let's go," he said, practically dragging you out of the cafe. 

Trying not to spoil the date with his attitude, he suggested walking around the city to enjoy the weather.

He bought you some light pink and blue flowers from a small vendor, seeing you croon at them, knowing they were your favorite kind.

Next, you walked across a footbridge over a stream, asking Jake to take a picture of you with the beautiful view in the background. You walked, thinking about how Jake had the privilege of taking this beautiful path home from school every day. 

Finally, as the sun set, you both decided to stop at an ice cream shop. The shop's perimeters had a swinging chair facing a small body of water with fishing docks along the edges. You two sat on the swinging chair with your ice cream in hand, Jake having chosen not to get anything for himself once again.

He had been trying to make the day fun by buying you flowers and taking you to these nice places from his childhood. But even as he handed the flowers to you, you saw his expression falter. Even as he walked across the bridge with you, he hadn't even told you that story about him taking the bridge path home from school–you made that up yourself to fill the gaps of what wasn't spoken. And even as he sits with you now, he sits on the other side of the swing, resting on his chin in his hand on the armrest. His sulky mood and his distance are so unlike him.

Jake had tried not to ruin the date, but his emotions were still visible despite his efforts.

You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for the "wonderful" day. But he remained quiet, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding your gaze. 

And he said nothing on the car ride home as well, only having a hand attached to your thigh as he drove silently. 

–

Jake was certainly in some sort of mood, as his behavior persisted for the next few days. 

He became increasingly distant, his temper flaring at the most minor inconveniences. If he ran out of milk for his cereal, he'd fly into a rage to the point tears would well up in his eyes as he curled up on the floor in frustration for hours. 

He seemed to withdraw from you completely, barely initiating hugs or kisses like he used to. You tried to talk to him and understand what was happening, but he remained tight-lipped, shutting you out of whatever bothered him.

Almost every night ended with him laying in your lap, upset at something to the point he's shaking, and you running your hands through his hair to try to calm him down. He'd eventually fall asleep in your lap, only to be up and gone elsewhere before you woke up in the morning. 

Then, one day, something happened that pushed Jake over the edge. It was one of those nights you found yourself playing with his hair, trying to soothe him as he wrestled with his inner demons.

It was almost bedtime, and you wore only one of his baggy t-shirts and underwear, as you usually did for bed. You were on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, when a notification popped up. It was from your ex—he was trying to follow you. 

You hesitated, reading it, and weren't planning on accepting the request, yet Jake must have thought otherwise. He tensed up upon seeing the notification. 

And moments later, he was sitting upright, his arms practically caging you between him and the couch cousin, kissing you roughly, placing your phone on the floor. You weren't against his sudden switch-up, as you haven't gotten a kiss from him in almost a week now. 

You opened your mouth as he asked for entrance, tonguing at your lips. And as he deepened the kiss, he began moving, causing you to chase his lips, following his movements. He lifted you off the couch, carrying you to your room, refusing to let go of your lips, and once he met the edge of your bed, he immediately plopped you down and crawled on top of you, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting dark marks into your skin. 

"I fucking hate him," Jake grunted into your neck, his voice muffled, and you barely just caught what he said. 

A lightbulb lit up in your head. Ah, that makes sense. 

"Is that why you've been in such a mood lately? Because of one interaction I had with Heeseung, who I haven't thought about for years?" you asked, lifting his head up from your skin.

Jake's eyes bore into yours, filled with anger and frustration. "Don't say his name," he commanded, his mood worsening. So, you decided not to press the issue further, realizing that mentioning Heeseung's name only fueled Jake's anger.

Jake ducked back to your neck, lips trailing down. His kisses became more urgent as he pushed your shirt up, revealing your skin underneath. His hands roamed up the sides of your body, his touch desperate and needy. You could feel the intensity of his emotions in every kiss, every touch.

Jake continued to kiss down your chest, his movements almost rushed. His hands roamed over your back, slipping up the back of your sports bra. 

"Off–" He grunted, already pushing your shirt up and off your shoulders along with the bra, leaving you only in your underwear. "Take it all off."

His mouth immediately connected back to your skin, biting your shoulder and kissing all the way down to your chest, where he took his time marking you up. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently guiding and reassuring him with your touch. Despite his roughness, Jake's actions were vulnerable.

His hands gripped your hips and thighs and squeezed roughly, his fingers definitely leaving bruises. You tugged on his shirt, to which he willingly took it off, yet eager to return to your skin. 

"Mine…" Jake kissed down your chest to your stomach, mumbling the word repeatedly. "You're mine. Say it." Jake's voice was low, his gaze on you dark, staring at your body with pure rage and hunger. 

"I'm yours," you giggled. You had never seen him like this before and found it slightly endearing. 

But he wasn't having any of that. "This isn't a fucking joke. Say it." he scolded, gripping your face and effectively grabbing your attention. "Say that you're mine and not… not his…" 

Yet with the way he squeezed your cheeks with one hand–pushing your lips out, making you look stupid–there was no way for you to coherently do as he asked. But you try nonetheless. 

With a whimper, looking right into his blown-out pupils, you said, "I'm yours. O-only yours, I promise," as best you could. 

His possessiveness only turned you on more, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch. Satisfied with the response, his lips crashed back down onto yours hungrily. He growled against your lips, letting go of your face and using that hand to roam down your body, his fingers hovering outside your panties. 

You squeaked into his mouth, thrashing slightly as his thumb rubbed hard at your clit, overstimulating you. 

He pinned your hips down on the mattress to prevent you from squirming, continuing his administrations with a sick grin on his lips. You watched his face as his anger turned into lust, fueled by pure jealousy. You grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against his hand.

Smirking, he added more pressure to your clit, causing you to try to writhe even more. 

"More," you whimper almost inaudibly. 

"Hm?" Jake asked, as if he didn't hear you. But with the look on his face, you could tell that he did. "You want me to stop?" You whimpered softly, shaking your head and reaching for his hand.

Despite that, he stopped touching where you needed it the most, earning a whine and more squirming, even though he's not touching you anymore. 

"N-no, please don't stop," you whined, reaching for his wrist and pulling it back to your heat.

He just looked at you condescending as you humped his hand, and if you were in a normal state of mind, you would have had enough social awareness to stop–but you were far too horny right now.

"Please," you begged again, looking up at him with eyes glossed over with need, your hips bucking against his hand as you desperately tried to get more friction. 

Jake smirked at your eagerness before giving you mercy, pulling your panties off and sliding a finger inside you, making you gasp. He grunted in response, returning to trailing hot kisses on your skin. You could feel his teeth grazing over your skin, knowing that by the time he's done, you'll be covered in bruises for days. 

And that only turned you on even more.

"Oh god–" your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

"You like that, don't you, baby? My fingers inside you?" he purred, watching as you twitched and whined beneath him. "You love how I make you feel, how I can make you fall apart with just my fingers."

"Yes, so good– Fuck," you moaned, arching your back in pleasure as he added another finger and began to thrust harder and curl his fingers just how you like it, stretching you and filling you in a way that only he could. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach, the pressure making you even more sensitive.

"He doesn't know how to fucking touch you like I do," Jake rasped, his voice laced with arrogance. "I know just by the way you came so hard the first time I fingered you–there's no way that fucker has made you cum before. Only I can make you feel this good." 

You could only nod wordlessly, unable to form a coherent sentence. Jake loved every second of it, the smug smirk never leaving his face. Your hands reach down to his sweatpants, trying to undo them.

"You want it so bad, don't you?" He cocked his head to the side, almost condescending. You frantically nod, hoping he'll just give you what you want like he usually does. And you get hopeful with how Jake chuckles darkly and pulls his pants down a bit, exposing his throbbing cock. 

You mewled a bit as he pulled out his fingers and brought them to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied look. He positions himself at your entrance and leans over you, his face inches from yours. But his following words crush all hope, and you know you'll have to do more begging. "Do you want me? Or do you want him?"

"You," the desperation in your voice was clear and urgent. "Please. I don't want Heesueng, only want you. Just you–" 

But before you can finish begging, Jake slams into you, filling you completely.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking say his name?" His hands grip your hips tightly as he starts to pump into you, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. He doesn't hold back, his pace rough and frantic with all his pent-up rage and jealousy.

You let out a moan, arching your back. Jake was rough, and it was shocking. But oh, it felt good. It felt better than anyone you had been with before. Jake knew your body so well and knew exactly how to make you lose control. 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, neither caring about the deep red marks as you press into his skin. Your walls clench around him, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of sanity. 

Jake's voice breaks during one of his moans. "C-can't believe he saw you like this before. I f-fucking hate him. Only I'm allowed to see you like this," he pants and his movements become sloppy, holding your hips down tightly as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. And his movements continued to get more and more desperate, his words becoming incoherent as he kept mentioning your ex. 

You could feel the familiar coil in your stomach tighten as you were pushed closer and closer to your breaking point. "P-please, m' gonna–" you gasp, clenching your teeth together as Jake's cock hits just the right spot inside you.

He uses a hand that was holding your hip to rub circles over your clit, trying to coax you to your orgasm. He then moves his other hand back to your lower belly, pressing down on it hard, like he did earlier. He hadn't done this before tonight, but you wish he had because you can feel his cock pressing against all the right spots even more now. You can't help but feel a bit jealous yourself, wondering who he learned that from. 

But regardless, the added stimulation sent you over the edge, your body shaking as you came hard around Jake's cock, pulling some stray swears from him. 

But Jake wasn't done with you yet. He kept fucking you, even as you rode out your orgasm, pushing you into overstimulation. You could barely form a coherent thought as he continued to pound into you, his own release still building inside him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he grunted, his thrusts becoming shorter and rougher. "My pretty girl. I'm gonna cum all over your pretty face."

And with one final hard thrust, he pulled out, maneuvering himself to jerk off over your face. 

You were cock drunk at this point, and your face must have shown this, as Jake chuckled deeply. He cooed, brushing his hand on your cheek and wiping away tears you didn't know had fallen. "Awe, who did this to you? Who's got you all fucked out like this?"

And you finally made out a broken "you" through your whines and panting. 

"Yeah, that's right," your response makes his grin widen, seemingly with pride. "Me, not him," Jake spoke as if trying to convince himself more than you. 

It only takes a couple more tugs before his hot release splatters across your face, his moans and deep laughter mixed with one another as he comes down from his high. 

When he's done, he crawls to lay next to you, seemingly a whole new person. 

His puppy-like personality is back, wearing the loving smile he always has when looking at you as he wipes his cum off your face with the corner of your sheets. 

Afterwards, he peppers your face and lips with soft kisses, speaking equally soft words. "I'm sorry, baby," he nestles up next to you as you do the same thing, a small smile on your face, still kind of out of it. Was that too much? I've just been so moody lately because of…yeah."

"No, I just wish you'd talk to me and not let everything build up." You pout, placing your palm on his cheek before snorting out a laugh. "Not that it wasn't amazing. I've never seen you so possessive–it was hot."

He giggled at this, too, a soft blush rising in the apple of his cheeks. 

"But really, talk to me next. You aren't okay after something like that. Okay?"

"Gotcha," He scoffs before peppering you with kisses all over again.

Ahh!! I guess your my first anon 🌷 :)

Also, apologies for the insane word count, I yap a lot as you can tell 😅

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi I’ve been thinking about this request for poly!plastics for a while now. So basically everyone knows that Regina gets angry and when she does people just don’t part ways with her. However, y/n is worse especially when she doesn’t get her full sleep which she didn’t get bc Gretchen and Karen were up and loud. (Y/n would never fault them bc she just loves them so much and their quirks). So throughout the school day, everyone has been getting on Y/n nerves like making comments about her girls etc. at lunch time, cady decided to make a “joke” about Karen being dumb, Regina being a bitch, etc and Y/n just explodes. Maybe heavy make out sess or smut after to calm Y/n down.

Slow Boil

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings: swearing, reader almost punches Cady, reader has an attitude, little make out session at the end but nothing overly detailed or anything

|| Summary: reader doesn't get enough sleep, the next day people get on her nerves and it pushes her to a boiling point where she snaps at Cady for insulting her girls.

Requests open!

~~~

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You barely got any sleep the night before with Gretchen and Karen being up all night giggling and gossiping. How Regina slept through them... you didn't know, but God you were envious of her sleeping abilities. Though you would never blame or get mad at Gretchen and Karen. You would however be frustrated at yourself for not falling asleep sooner.

The day seemed to drag on. As if seconds were really minutes and minutes were hours. Classes taking too long to complete. In Health & Fitness you just gave up and fell asleep, head rested on your desk with one arm folded around it and other stretched out in front of you. Cady glanced at you and raised an eyebrow.

The bell woke you from your sleep and you groaned, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. At least it was lunch. You'd get to see your girlfriends.

"Sleeping beauty rises." Mr. Carr comments, getting a few laughs from some kids in the back. You roll your eyes at him.

"I bet you thought that was clever. Do everyone a favour and keep your damn puns to yourself." Mr. Carr seemed taken aback by your attitude, usually you didn't have one. You were known for being kind and laid back. Not snappy and agitated. For that reason, he decides to let it go. Not without giving you a small warning lecture first. It certainly didn't make your mood any better.

You left the class, a sharp (sleep filled) glare glossing over your eyes as you walk through the halls. Some conversations catching your attention, people seemed to be talking about your girlfriends a lot lately. The things they were saying weren't always positive and that just did nothing to improve your mood. One voice in particular catches your attention. Cady.

You snapped your head in her direction, seeing her chatting with those art freaks Janis and Damien.

"Honestly, Karen's gotta be the dumbest person I've ever met. When I went to Regina's house Regina told Karen she would help her with her eyebrows and Karen asked if she could still have two." Cady talked, Damien and Janis laughed. You could feel your blood boiling," Speaking of Regina, don't even get me started on her. She is such a bi-"

"The next word out of your mouth better fucking be "bi icon" or I swear to every God that's listening..!" You yelled, taking a step towards Cady who froze in place. Damien and Janis exchanged a look.

"Y-Y/N, I didn't think-" You cut Cady off.

"Clearly! What the hell, Cady?! They've been nothing but nice- well, to your face- and this how you repay them?" You were livid. The news about you fighting with Cady quickly spread throughout the school, eventually reaching your girlfriends who sprang into action. Hoping to stop things before it escalated.

Regina got there first and put herself between you and Cady right as you had been about to strike. You pause the moment you see Regina and your arm falls to your side. Gretchen and Karen link their arms around yours and keep you back while Regina sighs.

"Baby, take a breath for me." Regina says, you ignore her and look at Cady. She snaps her fingers in your face," Don't look at her. Look at me."

You listen. Reluctantly.

"Breathe." Regina urges, hand resting on your shoulder. When that doesn't work she grabs you by your wrist and pulls you to the bathroom, Gretchen and Karen quickly following behind.

Once there, they all turn and face you.

"What was all that about?" Gretchen asks.

"Cady was being a total bitch." You mutter, arms folded across your chest.

"You mean like Cady Heron?" Karen looks confused.

"No, KD Mac and Cheese." You snap, then realize who you just snapped at. Regina narrows her eyes at you. Karen frowned and you relaxed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry... I just- didn't get any sleep last night and my patience has been pushed to the edge today because of it..." You admit in a mumble, hand covering your face as you tilted your head down. You felt bad.

Gretchen took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into her side as she moves her hand away from your face. Giving you a deep, soft kiss that you immediately melt into. Hands resting gently around Gretchen to pull her closer. You could feel as your body finally relaxed. Whatever anger you had being washed away.

She broke the kiss and rested her hand to your cheek," Better?"

"I could maybe use a couple more kisses..." You smile sheepishly, looking over at Regina and Karen. Your girlfriends laugh softly and the tension in the room seems to fade.

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: Your parents met JJ and they disapprove of you dating a Pogue, especially the Maybank boy

Today was finally the day that JJ was going to meet my parents. I'd told them all about him and how he made me feel. They didn't like that he was a Pogue, but I mean, what Kook parents would be okay with their only daughter dating a Pogue? That's just not how it works on the island sadly. Both my parents were raised as Kooks, and they wouldn't have it any other way for me or my brother. He's as much of a Kook as they came, he took full advantage of the privileged life.

I can't lie and say I don't enjoy being one, but I've also not allowed myself to ignore the disadvantages that Pogues have had on the island. That's how I met JJ. I was helping Big John a few years back bring some diving gear back to his house from my parent's shop and JJ happened to be there with John B. I started hanging out with them a few weeks later when I happened to run into John B at The Wreck. He was there getting some end-of-the-night food from Kie for him, JJ, and Pope. We've been kind of inseparable since. We've of course had our moments, especially when Big John went missing at sea.

JJ and I have been together since then; it was pretty crappy timing, but we also realized that life was just too damn short. We had a conversation the same week he went missing and realized the feelings were mutual. The group knew about two weeks later, JJ's dad knew too but he didn't have much to say. He was just proud of his son for 'landing a Kook' and telling JJ to make sure to take advantage of the 'rich kid living.' I haven't been around there since.

We've been putting off him meeting my parents, but today was the day. JJ was nervous, the most nervous he'd been since the Pogues found out about us. He was so worried they'd use the no-macking rule and break us up, I knew better though.

I'd picked JJ up from the Chateau and was headed to my house. "JJ, you OD over there?" I asked looking over to him as he was picking at his fingernails. He looked up at me, nervously biting his lip. He just shook his head and looked back out the window, the houses slowly getting nicer the longer the drive. "J, it's going to be okay." I place my hand over his, hoping to calm him down as I pull into our driveway.

I put the car in park and look over at JJ, he looked extremely nervous. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. I go over and open the door for him, realizing he hasn't moved. He slowly gets out of the car, placing his hat on his head. I take hold of his hand and lead him to the front door. "We're here!" I yell when I open the door. They walk around the corner and I can immediately see the judgment in their eyes; I know JJ could too. "Mom, Dad, this is JJ," I tell them trying to break the awkward silence. I look over at him and take the hat off his head, placing it on the counter beside us. They quickly walk over and shake JJ's hand. "Nice to meet you JJ," they both said.

"Nice to meet you too, sir, ma'am," he told them, trying to be as polite as he could, not wanting to say the wrong thing. We all stood there for a second before walking into the dining room where there was an array of food placed on the table. Mom and Dad sat on one side whereas JJ and I sat on the other side. We made awkward conversation about the weather and school while we ate. Dad was the first to hit JJ with the questions they really wanted to know. "So, JJ, tell me what are your plans for the next five years?" I look at my dad, wanting to tell him to stop, knowing this was only the first of many questions.

"Well, Sir, I'm hoping to graduate high school and get a job fixing up cars and boats at the Yard. I would like to save up enough money to buy a house and maybe a nice boat, if I'm lucky," he responded honestly. I chuckled at the last part, knowing full well he'd buy a boat before a house any day of the week. My dad just kept looking at him, "The Yard? Why not try to go to college?"

"Well, I figure I don't have the money to pay for college, so I need to take a different path in life," he responded taking a sip of his water, "plus, I'm not sure I would want to go to college." I know my dad isn't going to like that answer. He claims all of his success came from him going to college, but in all reality, it all came from him and Ward Cameron's business schemes. Our family having money has nothing to do with my dad's college degree, but he'd never admit that. "College is important to be successful, I might say, it's most important. I can't imagine the Yard being very successful as they haven't been able to expand to anywhere besides the cut."

"Dad, please stop," I tell him, "JJ is a-" I try and say before I'm interrupted by my dad.

"Now honey, I just want to know how JJ plans to provide for you," he tells me, looking over to JJ, "So, how will you provide for our daughter?"

"Uhm, w-," JJ stumbled, not even being able to get a word in before my mom started in on him. "JJ, who is your dad?"

"Luke Maybank, ma'am," he told her. I could see him getting more and more nervous by the second. I quickly took his hand and held it under the table, knowing my dad would have a fit.

"Luke Maybank? It all makes sense now," my dad chuckled under his breath, "you don't have to explain anything else." I could see the anger and sadness on JJ's face, making me yell at my dad. "What the hell Dad! You don't ev-"

"You watch your damn tone with me," he yelled at me standing up and pointing his finger at me. "We leave you alone and you decide to fall in love with a fucking Pogue, let alone Maybank's boy! I will not allow this," he sat back down before turning to JJ, "JJ, it was not a pleasure to meet you. Now if you would please show yourself the door?" I looked over at JJ and I could see the tears forming in his eyes. He quickly pushed his chair back, causing it to scrape across the wooden floor. He looked down at me, letting go of my hand before pushing the chair back and walking out of the kitchen. I had tears slowly falling down my face now, disgusted with JJ's treatment from my parents. "Now, I don't EVER want you to see him again," my dad sternly told me.

I could tell JJ was still in the house as the door never opened or closed. I wasn't going to let him think I didn't care for him. "Dad, Mom," I say standing from the chair, "you know what, fuck this family. JJ is better than anybody in this family but you're too damn stuck up to realize that or even admit it."

My dad swiftly stood up and raised his hand at me before I told him with venom in my voice, "Do it, you'll never see me again and I know you care too much about our family image to kick me out. I'll go to the police and let them know all about your 'successful' businesses. I'll ruin your fucking life," I say the last part with pure anger. I get closer to him, hoping he'll hit me so I have a reason to go to the police and tell them everything. He sits back down and picks up his drink to take a sip before looking up at me. He doesn't say a word before he throws his cup to the ground, it breaking into a million pieces causing me to flinch, and proceeds to walk out the room. I look down at my mom, rolling my eyes at her knowing she's too scared of my dad to disagree with him.

I storm out of the room to see JJ with his back against the counter, holding his hat in his hands before placing it on his head. I go over to him and grab his hand, pulling him out of the house and over to my car. We get in and I start driving, not sure where to go as everybody was at the Chateau. "Your dad's right," I hear JJ mumble. I look over at him and he won't make eye contact with me. I pull over on the side of the road, looking at him. "JJ, my dad may be a lot of things, but he's not right."

"He is though," he looked up at me with tears forming in his eyes, "you know my dad. I'm just like him, you deserve someone who can give you more."

"JJ, you are nothing like your father," I tell him grabbing his hand in mine, "You are the greatest and best person to ever walk into my life. I can't imagine it without you, not only that, but you are pretty damn attractive too." He lets out a small chuckle at the last part, "J, can you please look at me?" I ask him. He looks over at me as I wipe a tear falling down his cheek, "I love every part of you, especially the ones you hate. You are my whole world and all the stars. When I look at you, I feel like I'm finally home. I feel nothing bad can happen when I'm in your arms. You are my person, my only person, and I hope you know that nothing will change that, not even my asshole parents. I would give them up a million times over before I ever think about saying goodbye to you. I love you."

JJ squeezes my hand tighter, letting a small sob out. "Hey, are you okay? Please talk to me," I tell him placing my hand on the back of his neck. He looks over at me before placing a small kiss on my forehead. "I've uhm, never had anybody tell me how much I matter to them. Dad has always blamed me for Mom leaving and has always told me how much he hated me, I guess I kind of thought there wasn't another way for someone to feel when it came to me. I got so used to how he treated me I thought that's what I deserved, it was all I was good for," he told me. I felt a few tears fall down my face, realizing how much what my parents said hurt him. "I love you too, I'm just sorry if I won't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"JJ," I tell him, waiting for him to look at me, "as long as I have you, that's all I need. I need you to know that."

"You really are whipped," he lets out a small chuckle to break up the emotions in the small car. I playfully smack his arm, "J, be for real right now. You're hearing what I'm telling you right?"

"Yes, I hear you. I love you too. Thanks for showing me what it means to be loved," he tells me, reaching over to place a kiss on my forehead before moving away and placing his lips to mine. "Now, can we go get some pizza 'cause I didn't eat." I look at him and laugh. "Nerves babe, they got to me and I'm starving now." I laugh and look over at him before putting the car in drive, whispering 'I love you' to him and he responds by grabbing my hand and placing small kisses on them. We head to the nearest restaurant and eat, getting extra so we can take it to the Chateau.

Once we got there, we were asked what felt like hundreds of questions on how it went. We gave them the tiniest of summaries, just telling them that my parents are dick and that we left. They didn't need to know anything else, there was enough going on in the group since Sarah started coming around. I'm a big fan of her, but the results are still out for Kie. No matter what though, JJ and I had each other, till the end of the days. As long as I was breathing, he was my love and I was his.

[sparklingblu]

Pulse

Sohyun X Xinyu

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know, espresso reminds me of people"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not the one here, I hope"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, I'm still here"

Does it sound too cheesy?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sohyun and Espresso and People.

How peculiar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who? Peeta?" I ask.

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

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

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

"For starters,..."

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

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

Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sohyun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is it bothering me so much?

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

But now, it's infecting me.

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

Maybe that's all this is.

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

And how easily she has forgotten me.

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

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

It's nothing to dwell on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I blink. "Not me"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You do have friends"

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

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

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

"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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

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

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

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

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

I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"

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

"Only good things, I hope"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck off, Taeil"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"

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

Or act like you don't, I thought.

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

I blink. "You didn't?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"

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

My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She chuckles. "Go for it"

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I don't. I won't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking Apollo"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[charmedbystars]

for the plot...?

pairing: e-42 miles x reader

summary: just press send.

content: ONE CURSE WORD

a/n: I HAVE BEEN OUT OF THE LOOP! these past few months have been crazy! i've moved like 4 times in just a couple months, it's insane... also i wrote this in life 20 minutes sooooo..

part two here!

you could hear the commotion going on outside your room. parents invited everyone they knew over to party. it was the 31st of december, the day that everyone anxiously waits for so they can have a “fresh start”. sometimes you thought it was a little weird… like why are you waiting for the next year when it’s any other day. sometimes you think people just use it as an excuse to hold off, “i’ll start working out next year” or “i’m gonna start learning to love myself this new year”. if you were ever making goals then it was just knowing who your real ones are or leaving all the bad last year. 

now just two minutes before the countdown started, you were staring down at your phone with uncertainty. the four words that you never thought you would send was now drafted, thumb hovering over to send it at the perfect time. thumb against your teeth, as your eyes darted around your room. millions of thoughts were running through your mind to hype yourself up to just press send. 

a couple months earlier, you and your now ex-boyfriend, miles, were in a relationship. it was a good relationship, except it would always get rocky when conversations of making time for each other came up or the topic of the prowler slipped while talking. 

you knew everything, but sometimes you just wished that he would focus on himself. you just wanted for him to clear his head for a couple hours and think like a regular 15 year old. 

so, that being so, you both broke up mutually. you both agreed that you guys didn’t want to end up having a bad argument and it spiraling into a bad break up, so mutual it was. you guys didn’t speak that much after, just nods to acknowledge each other when walking down the halls of school or down the streets of brooklyn, or sometimes you guys would occasionally partner up for school projects. then, months passed by and it was as it you guys went full no contact, although sometimes glances were tossed here and there and you could feel that there was still a connection. 

which brings you back to now, thumb hovering over the “send” button. glancing at the time, it was 11:59PM. couple seconds later you hear the people in your living room starting to countdown.

“ten!” 

okay i can do this

“nine!”

if it doesn’t work then this year is for myself

…

“five!”

mmm i can’t back outttt

“two!”

oh fuck it

“one!”

i’m just gonna do it for the plot. was your last thought as your quickly hit the sent button. you sighed as if that simple tap took everything out of you. 

“new year, new us?” 

you read the message you sent before shutting off your phone and deciding to walk into the living room, when you felt a little vibrate just a few seconds later.

*miles liked your message*

“wsg ma?”

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 35. change my world

"I CAN'T STAY FOR LONG," were the first words out of Jay's mouth as soon as you opened the door for him. "I've gotta finish a project when I get back home. She changed the deadline to—hey, what's wrong?"

You looked crestfallen for a moment, but as soon as Jay pointed it out, you perked right back up again. He took a second to study your expression before stepping into your foyer. Your penthouse was always a little intimidating; growing up, Jay couldn't even imagine stepping foot in a place so lavish.

"Nothing. Just trying to make myself busy for next weekend so I don't have to visit my dad," you replied with an unamused laugh. "You free?"

"I don't think either of us will be; Jennie sent us all a text a few hours ago." He held up his phone to show you the messages. "She wants us to be free the entire weekend."

"Friday and the weekend?" you read off the screen before frowning. "Is that when we get hazed?"

Jay shrugged before he cracked a smile. "Guess you don't have to visit your dad, at least." This was perhaps the perfect opportunity for him to get more information on your family—a golden opportunity considering you brought up your father on your own. Before you could change the topic, he pressed on, "But why don't you wanna see him?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, but it didn't seem like you were unwilling to divulge. Your eyes were gleaming a little, and Jay wanted to believe that you were hoping he'd stay. "How about I tell you over ramen?"

He pulled off his jacket before reaching your dining table. There was only one bowl of ramen set out, so Jay paused before he proceeded to sit down. To his surprise, you sat a chair away, looking up at him expectantly.

"Where's yours?" He didn't mean for there to be an edge of suspicion to his voice, but Jay couldn't understand why you wouldn't make a bowl for yourself.

You propped your elbow on the table to rest your chin in your palm. "I just wanted you to try it. How does it taste?"

"You should eat, too."

"Later—just try it!"

Since you seemed so eager, Jay picked up the noodles with his chopsticks and ate a mouthful, humming with delight when the flavor hit his tongue. He looked over to see you beaming at him with anticipation, and he nearly felt his chest stutter from how flustered he felt as you stared at him.

"Good"—he coughed after swallowing down his food too quickly—"it's really good."

You swelled with pride, and before you could open your mouth to respond, Jay cut you off by holding up another mouthful of noodles to your mouth. His other hand was cupped below where the noodles were dangling from the chopsticks.

Like that, you and Jay started talking about school and the Order while you shared the bowl of ramen. Not about whatever was going on with you and your father. There wasn't much to catch up considering he had seen you several times over the past week, but conversation somehow felt so easy with you.

Jay had never been a people person; his social battery was low and he had no interest in expanding his circle. Ever since he moved to Connecticut, his world seemed to grow a little bigger.

And it seemed as though he had a space carved out for you in his heart, but Jay was sure he would be a fool if he tried to fill that void.

The conversation eventually moved to the couch after you and Jay had finished eating and nearly tackled each other to wash the bowl and chopsticks in the sink. Jay was feeling overly-conscious of your knee touching his and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the space between you two.

It was when you were showing Jay a picture of your dog, Butters, when you brought up your father again.

(Jay had been secretly hopeful that you wouldn't mention him. The more you told him about your life, the more it tore him up inside as he realized he either had to betray you or his client.)

"Butters always gets so happy whenever I'm home," you said with a pout, staring at the picture of your Pomeranian facing the wind. "He must really miss my mom, too." You looked up at Jay again, grinning sheepishly when you saw the confused look on his face. "It was this whole thing from when I was a kid. My parents are separated, but they're not divorced... it's weird. Their relationship was rocky for a long time, but back in freshman year, my mom decided to just leave as soon as I left for Yale. I guess me moving out for college was what she was waiting for."

Jay's heart clenched painfully and he murmured, "I'm sorry. Is that why you didn't wanna see your dad?"

"Pretty much." With a heavy sigh, you leaned your head against Jay's shoulder. He stiffened up for a moment before relaxing—even scooting a little bit closer. "I just keep waiting for them to get together and make up again so that we can go back to being a family. It's, like"—you sniffled—"so annoying."

Another sniffle. You wiped at your eyes furiously, as if you were mad that they even dared to water. Jay kept his gaze down, unsure if you were comfortable with him watching you cry. He wished he wasn't so useless in these situations. You froze up for a moment when Jay brought his hand close to your face, but you closed your eyes and let him wipe a stray tear away.

"You can't tell anyone, okay? No one else knows about this, like, no one," you continued. "Especially not Sunoo."

"Of course I won't," Jay replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "but Sunoo?"

"My mom and his dad used to date, apparently," you said, picking at your nails now. "That's why my dad thinks she wants to leave him."

"Sunoo's dad? But—"

"I really shouldn't get into it any further," you interjected quickly, "because that's Sunoo's business, too."

Sunoo never shared much about his family, so this was all news to Jay. Yet, he was sure he would have found out earlier if your mother was currently with Sunoo's father. Sunoo would've mentioned it, wouldn't he? What was your mother's motive then? Why would she walk out if her intent wasn't to leave her husband for an old flame?

Furthermore, Jay hardly realized that he kept gravitating closer and closer to you, but by the time your head was against his chest and his arm was around your shoulders, he realized he couldn't back away without offending you. He just hoped you weren't able to hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

"Is that why you two fell out?" he asked gently.

"Kind of." You angled your neck so that you could look up at Jay. "What about your family? You're always so mysterious."

"Mysterious? You've been to my apartment before."

"Not that—I just wanna know if you have secrets, too."

Jay swallowed thickly. "Everyone has secrets."

"But I wanna know more about you—your story, where you came from," you pressed, shifting your position so that you were facing him. Jay found it hard to breathe when you were so close. "I feel like you hide so much under the surface."

You have no idea, he thought, rueful.

Jay couldn't think of anything in particular that he could tell you, though. The only secrets he had were ones that he had to keep from you no matter what, especially when it came down to his work as a private investigator.

There was one thing, he supposed, that changed him forever. It wouldn't have done him any good to tell you about it—not when the very thought made his throat close up and his eyes water. He didn't even want to see the look on your face when you found out what he had done, what his client had on him.

"You're, like, insanely smart, too," you breathed out. "How is it you know everything? You even impressed everyone in the Order."

"I wouldn't say everything."

You shot him a pointed look. "Dr. Corvera literally offered you a research internship after lecture."

"Whoa." A faint smirk crept to his lips. "Are you stalking me or what?"

"I just happened to eavesdrop." Jay was far too delighted with the way you shied away from him. "But, seriously, why don't you give yourself enough credit? You're like... Master Oogway."

"The turtle? From Kung Fu Panda?" Jay deadpanned.

"Well, he's a tortoise."

"See? I didn't know that."

You scoffed lightly, voice dropping low as you rattled on, "And you're really good at Calculus, too... and you have a perfect GPA. Are you sure you're not—"

"I'm two years older, remember?" Jay cut you off before he could hear any of your theories, hoping that none of them implied that he was any more of an outsider than he felt. "I know how to code and I know around twenty programming languages, so the math sort of comes with that."

His answer only seemed to inspire more amazement in your eyes, and Jay suddenly felt hot even without his jacket.

"My only useful strength is talking to people," you said with a crooked grin, "which is why I'm pretty good at interviews and making people like me."

"I can tell. You're always the center of everything."

"Rude."

"That's not a bad thing," Jay said, shooting you a sideways glance. "People naturally gravitate toward you. You're just..." The whole package was what Jay wanted to say, but he was afraid that would get deeply misinterpreted, so he settled for saying, "You're just perfect."

Perhaps that wording was at greater risk for being deeply misinterpreted.

Your lips were parted for a moment—whether it was from shock or repulsion, Jay didn't want to know—and your eyes had a new gleam to them that he hadn't seen before. He wondered if his comment made you blush because you kept your head ducked down.

(And he wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to kiss you. This wasn't something Jay wanted to make obvious, but he found his gaze lingering on your lips for far too long before he managed to look away.)

He suddenly felt his mouth go dry while his heart did stupid backflips that you were sure to hear. How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? No, no, that wasn't what he meant—oh, but that was exactly what he meant.

"I'm not perfect at all," you said with a laugh. "Is that how you see me?" You shook your head. "I wish I was good at things like you are. I'm not as ambitious as you are either, which is a total waste. I always feel like someone else should've been born in my place."

That certainly would've made this mission much easier for him, but he felt as though your perception of him was misplaced. Ambition? Jay only wanted to help people, and he deduced over the years that he was terrible at that.

"I'm not that great as you're making me out to be," he said. "I'm really happy you think of me like that, but it's not like I've... changed the world or anything."

Jay remembered when he graduated college with Jake. Back then, Jay still had stars in his eyes and hopes for the future. Despite everyone who told him that his skills were better suited for a high-profile job complete with exploitation and corruption, Jay knew that he wanted to do something meaningful.

But that never happened. He was never going to save anyone.

You hesitated before you said, "You changed mine."

Jay sadly smiled at you, mostly because if you ever found out who he truly was, then you would quickly realize that he had probably changed your life for the worst.

Instead, he admitted in a soft voice, "You changed mine, too."

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ longish chapter to make up for the tiny break i took 🫶

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family CODE: White - FULL MOVIE SUMMARY [SPOILERS]

Now that I've finally read through the entire novelization of CODE: White, I'm ready to share a full summary of everything that happens - basically spoil the whole movie for those interested 😅

But before I get to the summary, a few notes:

I didn't translate every line from the novelization as that would have taken way too long. I go into more detail for scenes I was particularly interested in (like Twiyor scenes), or scenes that were easy to translate. But I still made sure to mention everything that's important to the story. If I gloss over some parts more than others, it's either because they were difficult to translate, or I didn't think they were that important. But even so, the "summary" still ended up being way longer than I anticipated!

I have not seen the movie myself yet, so everything in the summary below is based on the novelization only (of which there were two versions released, with slight differences between them). Obviously the novelization is an accurate adaptation, but there is a chance that a few things are different between the novelization and the actual movie, and/or the novelization may have left out some dialogue or minor scenes.

And lastly, it goes without saying but BEWARE OF MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW! Not only that, but please be considerate of where you share these spoilers. Remember to properly tag this post if you reblog it and think twice before you share any of this information on other social media. Most people don't want to be spoiled to this degree!

Again MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!

The movie starts with an introduction to the characters – we see Twilight carrying out a mission where he has to disguise himself as someone's wife. Meanwhile, Yor is doing an assassination mission. They both come home at the same time and are greeted by Anya. Bond has a vision of Anya and Loid getting sick from Yor's cooking, so Anya suggests that Loid cook instead.

At Eden, Henderson tells the students about the cooking contest and how the principal will be the judge. Loid is on the roof, reading Henderson's lips. A falcon flies overhead and drops him a note with an F cipher. He goes to meet with Sylvia at one of the WISE hideouts. She informs him that she has another big mission for him, but when he objects that he couldn't take on something so big in the midst of Operation Strix, she hands him a photo of a man and child. She explains that the man is Major Depple of the Army Intelligence Department who has a lot of important people backing him, and since they hadn't made enough progress with Operation Strix, the higher-ups decided to pass it onto him.

As Loid leaves, he bumps into Fiona. Her hat gets blown away with the wind and he reaches to catch it, just as Yor and her coworkers are across the street. From where Yor sees them, it looks like Loid is kissing "the mysterious woman." Loid and Fiona have a fake conversation – he compliments her hat, she says it was made overseas, etc – while they're actually doing their secret "spy talk" (like they did when she first visited him at home). He tells her what's happening with Operation Strix, and she tells him that she had tried to warn him that it shouldn't have been left up to ordinary citizens who don't know anything, and that she should take on the wife role. Meanwhile, Camilla and co. tell Yor about the three signs of cheating: one, an increase in travelling; two, a change in clothing taste (to match the taste of his new lover); and three, suddenly giving gifts (because he feels guilty).

Later that evening, Yor is still feeling anxious about Loid's possible "lover." When Anya gets home, she tells them about the cooking competition. Loid recalls from his data that the principal's favorite is the melemele pastry. If Anya could get a stella from the competition, that could help get him back into Operation Strix. He says that he read in the school newspaper that the melemele in Frejis is supposedly the best, so they should go there and try it for themselves via a family vacation over the weekend. Yor thinks back to the "increase in travelling" sign of cheating that Camilla told her about. Loid tells her that only families are allowed at the Frejis restaurant they're headed to, so she decides to go, though she's still conflicted about whether this is actually a sign of cheating or not.

They have some family time on the train to Frejis, though Loid still makes Anya study. They play cards and get food (Anya has a corn dog, Yor has a sandwich, Loid has a hamburger). After coming back from the bathroom, Anya notices a key by one of the sinks. Bond is with her, and through him she sees a vision of the future – in the vision, she goes to car 8 and opens a trunk with the key while overhearing two men mention that it's a key to a treasure of the Republic.

Back in the train car, Loid brings up Anya's terrible handwriting while Yor mentions that they had practiced handwriting the other day. Loid says that Yor's motherly side is really coming out, which causes Yor to get flustered and makes her think that it's not her skills as a mother he could be dissatisfied with but perhaps her skills as a wife. She gets even more flustered when she notices a couple across the way kissing and starts nervously moving her lips, to which Loid asks if something's wrong. She stammers that her lipstick didn't warm up and is itchy, then says she's going to look for Anya since she's taking a long time.

Meanwhile, Anya and Bond find the luggage compartment and locate the trunk from Bond's vision. When Anya goes to grab it, Bond tries to stop her. At first she thinks that she shouldn't just do whatever she wants with other people's stuff, but then she remembers that the men in the vision said it was a treasure of the Republic, a treasure that could possibly help achieve world peace. She opens the trunk and is disappointed to find just a chocolate in it. But when she hears the two men, Domitri and Luca, open the door, she gets startled and accidently knocks the chocolate out of the trunk. It bounces off of Bond's nose, and when she tries to grab it, it falls into her mouth. She hides when Luca and Domitri come in to look for the trunk.

They describe the ship sticker on it, and when they find that it's been opened and the chocolate stolen, they say they're going to kill whoever took it so the secret won't get out. When Anya accidently makes a noise, the men take notice. Domitri takes a flower out of his pocket and points it towards the dim light in the car, saying that his "flower fortune telling" will tell him who's hiding. They then notice Anya escaping into car 7 and give chase. They lock her in car 6, but when she starts screaming for Papa and Mama, Yor breaks open the locked door. She asks Anya who the two men are and Anya says that they're chocolate thieves who were being mean to her. Yor beats them up (after telling Anya to cover her eyes) just as the train arrives at Frejis station (Anya seems to feel bad that she sicced Yor on them when she was the actual chocolate thief). When they get off the train, Loid says that they should start heading to their destination (as Yor starts building a snowman). After they get their luggage and leave, Luca and Domitri emerge from the car they were in and say they need to contact the colonel.

The shop that has the melemele is called "Restaurant Rubble and Bonds." Since pets aren't allowed in the restaurant, they leave Bond outside when they go inside to eat. After ordering food along with the melemele, the waitress tells them that they're getting the last melemele. Bond watches them from the window, but then a waitress comes over and feeds him the special pet plate, which he happily eats. As the Forgers are eating, Loid tells Anya that she shouldn't eat with her hands, and that using a knife and fork are proper manners. Yor watches and notices the turtleneck sweater Loid is wearing, which makes her realize it's something that he never wears. She then thinks of Camilla's second sign of cheating, a change in clothing taste. The chef comes over and tells them how the war in Frejis was mostly fought in the sky, and the aircraft displayed at the front of the station belonged to a two-man team famous for shooting down planes during the war.

There's a brief scene where Yuri overhears his coworkers at the SSS talking about Frejis, and he of course wants to go since he knows Yor is there now. But the boss won't let him, so he makes a bit of a scene.

Back at the restaurant, the chef continues to talk about the war and how he lost everything at that time. His decision behind making a restaurant catering to families was so people could experience the homemade food that he remembered his mom used to make. Loid can't help but relate the chef's backstory to his own. The melemele is finally ready and brought to the table.

Just as Anya is about to dig in, Colonel Snidel and some other soldiers enter the restaurant. The waitress and chef try to tell them that only families are allowed, but Snidel says that the military have authority in this area, even when it comes to food, and could close down the restaurant if they wanted to. They order the melemele, and when they're told that there isn't any left, one of the soldiers takes the melemele from Anya. Loid politely tells the soldiers that his daughter was really looking forward to eating it and if they could possibly order a different dessert. Snidel asks if they're tourists that came here to eat the melemele. Loid replies that they travel around trying delicious food. Snidel challenges Loid to a competition – if Loid wins, he'll give them back the melemele. The competition involves trying the three cakes that were placed on the table and correctly naming every type of sugar in them. Even though Loid correctly names them, Snidel also mentions the exact number of grams, making his answers the most accurate. Everyone's bummed that Loid lost, but he says that they could try coming back again. However, the chef tells them that they won't have more until Monday, which is when the Forgers have to be back in Berlint for the cooking competition. Yor asks the chef that if they provide their own ingredients, would he make it for them, and he agrees.

The Forgers go to the Frejis marketplace to get the ingredients from the list that the chef provided. Having already memorized the list, Loid moves at super speed to every shop and quickly finds most of the ingredients. When he goes looking for the orange syrup, a man from a cosmetic shop asks if he'll buy one of the many lipsticks there for his wife. He picks one out, mentioning how back on the train Yor had said that her lipstick wasn't working out and if this one is a nice color. She's embarrassed at first, but then agrees that it's a nice color and accepts…but then she's reminded of Camilla's last sign of cheating: suddenly giving a gift (meanwhile Loid is just thinking how putting on the happy couple appearance is part of the mission). With all three signs of cheating having taken place, Yor says that she's going to the bathroom and dejectedly walks away. Loid wonders if she's just tired from the trip and if she'll be okay. Anya then calls Loid over to a shooting game booth that has the orange syrup as one of the prizes. After attempting the game and failing, Anya reads the booth owner's mind and realizes it's rigged. Loid gets suspicious as well and is able to masterfully shoot down the orange syrup while also exposing the owner's scam.

Loid is ready to look for the last ingredient, but then Anya runs off to ride the mini train. Yor rejoins them, having put on the lipstick while she was in the bathroom. Loid says it suits her and asks if she'd like to get a drink somewhere. They go to a café booth where Loid orders coffee. But Yor, thinking how she needs to confirm the whole cheating thing with Loid and can't open up without the help of alcohol, orders several cups of heated wine. She finally gets drunk enough to ask Loid if he has a lover.

From the train, Anya looks over to see Yor grab Loid's scarf and pull him to the ground. Anya freaks out about "Papa and Mama flirting." They're both on the ground now, with Yor hovering over Loid before she finally passes out. She wakes up on a bench, where Loid asks if she's okay. She apologizes for what she did, but thinks that Loid will definitely want a divorce after what happened. When Anya reads her mind, she thinks of what Becky told her about divorces and how they cause families to fall apart. She then hears the ferris wheel attendant calling for people to ride, saying that it'll be a happy, "flirty" experience. Anya tells Loid and Yor that she wants to ride the ferris wheel, but then ushers them onto the gondola without joining them, much to their surprise. She tells them to get "flirty," to Loid's dismay. Yor tells Bond to look after Anya.

Yor realizes that she must look really bleak right now and it's making Anya worry. Loid asks if she's okay and she again apologizes for her behavior earlier. Loid replies that she's been acting weird for a while, causing Yor to finally admit that she saw him with his "lover"…someone with a large hat. Tears start welling in her eyes, so she covers her face with her hands to hide them. Realizing that the person she's referring to was Fiona, Loid explains that she wasn't a lover, just someone who needed directions to the art museum. Feeling embarrassed about her mistake, Yor looks away from Loid and out the window. She sees Anya and Bond below, the former waving happily at her. Yor waves back before mentioning if Loid could want a divorce, to which he light-heartily replies "no way." Yor says that she's lacking in a lot of ways, not just as a mother but as Loid's wife. Loid then takes her hands in his, looks straight into her eyes and reminds her of the promise he made via their marriage proposal.

He says the marriage vows again before stating that he has no intention of breaking his promise. As Loid gets closer to her, Yor's face reddens and her heart races until she finally breaks – she smacks Loid on the cheek, sending him flying out of the gondola (which had reached the ground). But he adjusts himself in midair and lands gracefully on his feet. Yor grabs their belongings from the gondola and hurries out. Upon seeing Loid's swollen cheek, Anya panics that Papa and Mama were fighting and the Forger family is over. Loid and Yor object to this, with Loid saying that they weren't fighting. Anya then says that they were flirting, but they object to that as well, faces red with embarrassment. Anya just grins at them.

The clock tower bell chimes, signaling 5 o' clock. When Loid muses that it got so late already, Yor apologizes that it was due to her passing out from drinking too much. Loid asks if she and Anya will go back to the hotel while he gets the remaining ingredient, cherry liquor. He thinks to himself how it's something rare that would not likely be sold at a store, so he'd have to get it through illegal means, which means that Yor and Anya can't accompany him.

Snidel gets out of his military vehicle in front of a flying battleship. He's greeted by several soldiers who tell him that route negotiations with the Arbo Republic have ended and adjustments to Type F have been completed. Snidel suddenly shoots and kills one of the operations leaders, claiming he's a traitor who leaked military information to WISE. Luca and Domitri then arrive and inform him that the microfilm was eaten.

Meanwhile, Sylvia meets with a bunch of WISE agents at their Berlint hideout. She tells them that they lost contact with their Frejis agent, suspecting that Snidel has taken action. She says that if the microfilm reaches the Arbo Republic, it could lead to an all-out war between the East and West. She doesn't think their agent had gotten the microfilm, but she knows Twilight is currently in Frejis, so he may be their only hope. She orders a couple of the male agents to meet with Twilight at Frejis and get the microfilm. However, Fiona interrupts and requests that Sylvia leave the mission to her instead. Sylvia objects, but Fiona is already leaving the room and on her way, thinking over and over to herself "A mission with senpai, a mission with senpai, a mission with senpai…"

Back at Frejis, Loid looks everywhere for the cherry liquor – he sneaks into a moonshine factory and even the wine cellar of a wealthy man, but still can't find it. He calls Franky at his tabacco shop in Berlint, inadvertently interrupting Franky's flirting with a pretty girl. He asks Franky if he can get the cherry liquor and that he needs it by tomorrow morning. Franky says he'll try but it would take him half a day to even get to Frejis, but Loid had already hung up.

At the hotel, Yor unpacks while Anya admires the hotel amenities ("Hotel TV!" "Hotel toilet!" "Hotel bed!") She then takes her toys out of her bag – among them are crayons, a sketchbook, a rubber duckie, and a toy gun. She pretends to shoot Bond with the gun, then points the gun at Yor and asks if she's the "boss." At first Yor is uneasy about partaking in Anya's game, but then she gives in and pretends to be the boss who wants the treasure. This makes Anya even more fired up and she says "Let's battle, polite lady boss!" The three of them continue playing.

Loid returns to the hotel and finds Anya's drawings of the ferris wheel and shooting game booth on the table. Anya's sleeping on the sofa while Yor puts a blanket over her. Loid says that he's going out again because he found the liquor at a neighboring town. Since it's a bit far, he's taking a car that he's borrowing from the hotel. Anya wakes up and calls Loid a liar since he said he would be back soon but came back so late. He apologizes, but then she reads his mind as he thinks about the fact that if Anya doesn't get a stella soon, Operation Strix and their family will be over. Anya says she wants to come along with Loid, but when he turns her down, she sadly goes back to the bedroom with Bond. When Loid starts to leave, asking Yor to take care of Anya, Yor asks him how many seats there are in the car he borrowed. He answers five. She then asks if they can all go together, since it's a family trip.

In the bedroom, Anya hugs Bond while thinking about the sad state of the family. Bond suddenly has a vison of the cherry liquor behind the cash register of a store at the plaza. At first Anya wants to tell Loid about it, but then she thinks that her secret would be revealed if she did (Loid would say "How did you know that? You can read minds? And Bond can see the future?") After realizing she can't tell him about it, she looks towards the window...

Meanwhile, Yor tells Loid how happy it made Yuri to be with her all day for special occasions like birthdays and family outings, and that it's the same with Anya. Loid thinks back to how happy Anya was when they were doing things together on the trip, such as playing trump, playing in the snow, and eating at the restaurant. He picks up the toy gun on the table and thinks back to how grateful Anya was for being able to play "spy" at the old castle. As he returns the gun to the table, Yor tells him how Anya was looking forward to so many things on this family trip, like eating sweets and playing together. She says she understands Anya's feelings since she's made Yuri feel lonely before. She tells Loid that Anya was really looking forward to being with him and how lonely it is to be separated from your family. She asks again if they could all go together to get the liquor at the next town, even though it's passed Anya's bedtime. When he starts thinking of the possible harm of bringing Anya with him, he pushes those thoughts aside and agrees with Yor.

Suddenly, room service knocks at the door. When Yor says that she didn't order any, Loid looks through the peep hole and sees Fiona disguised as a maid. He then says that he forgot to order a large bathrobe and steps outside. In the hotel corridor, he asks Fiona why she's here. She repeats "room service" while actually saying "it's a mission" in spy talk. Loid says that she can talk normally since it's just the two of them, and asks if she could be quick since he's also on a mission. She starts blabbering internally about how she's alone with him – LOVE!

Back in the room, Yor hears a noise from the bedroom, and when she goes to look, the window is open and both Anya and Bond are gone. Meanwhile, Fiona explains the mission about the microfilm to Loid. When she mentions Colonel Snidel, Loid thinks back to his encounter with Snidel and the military back at the restaurant. Yor suddenly comes out of the room and tells Loid that Anya ran away through the window. She had left a note behind, but when Loid goes to read it, the handwriting is extremely messy – he can make out the word "sorry" (misspelled).

Anya and Bond arrive at the shop in the plaza from Bond's vision. She buys the bottle of liquor and happily walks with Bond back to the hotel, thinking that now the Forger family will be okay. At the same time, the military is looking for girls that match Anya's description, using a picture that Luca drew of her. Bond starts barking when he notices Luca and Domitri pull up in a car behind Anya. Anya and Bond try to run away, but Luca pulls Anya into the car. Bond bites Luca's arm but gets pushed away. As they drive off with Anya in the car, they run over a can in the road that hits Bond in the head. Bond howls sadly as he watches the car disappear. Back at the battleship, Snidel says that it will depart as soon as they get the microfilm.

Loid and Yor run through town calling for Anya. They find Bond collapsed on the side of the road. Loid asks if he's okay and if Anya was with him. Bond barks and tries to gesture about what happened, but Loid and Yor can't understand him. However, Loid notices something in Bond's mouth – Luca's armband that he had bitten off. Loid recognizes it and is in disbelief that Anya got caught up in the military.

Then Fiona, still disguised as the hotel maid, pulls up in a car nearby and calls to Loid saying that he dropped something. In "spy talk" however, she says that he should prioritize getting the microfilm over Operation Strix. Loid thinks for a minute, then says loudly (so Yor can hear) "Ma'am, I would like to ask a favor…"

Meanwhile, Anya is brought before Snidel. Upon seeing him, she shouts that he's the guy who ate her dessert. He says that more important than the melemele, she ate their chocolate. She then states that he's the boss of those thieves. Luca and Domitri reprimand her for not using polite speech in front of the colonel. Snidel asks if she's been to the toilet since. Anya reads his mind as he thinks about how they hid the microfilm in the chocolate, and it's better to wait until she poops it out before killing her. Anya then realizes that the chocolate she ate on the train had the "treasure" inside, and if she poops, she'll be killed. Anya then nervously says that she's so cute that poop has never come out of her body, but then admits that she's lying upon seeing Snidel's cold gaze. Snidel instructs Luca and Domitri to take Anya with them and inform him if she poops. Anya begins holding her butt and starts shaking in fear. Domitri asks if she has to go, but she says she's just cold. She knows she mustn't poop or she'll be killed, but the more she thinks about it, the more she has to go!

Back at the Frejis plaza in front of the station, Loid boards the old fighter plane that was parked there. He's able to operate the communication device and listen in on signals from Snidel's flying battleship. He manages to catch some of Luca and Domitri's conversation with Anya, including them saying that she's in this mess because she ate the microfilm. Upon realizing that Anya ate the microfilm, he breaks into a cold sweat, but quickly regains his composure as he gets off the plane and meets with Yor, who was waiting worriedly outside. He tells her that he thinks Anya is with the military, since he heard from the radio signals that they seem to have taken custody of a girl around five years old. Yor asks why Anya would be with the military. Loid knows that he didn't have any time to come up with an explanation, so he cuts the power cable on the plane and climbs back into the cockpit. As the propellers begin spinning, he asks Yor to stand back and tells her that he'll return soon. Yor thinks back to the two men who attacked Anya on the train and realizes that they might have been from the military, but she can't tell Loid about that or he'd know that she beat them up. She recalls what she said to Loid earlier: that they should all go together because it's a family trip. As the plane leaves, Yor jumps onto it and forces open the door at the bottom. Loid continues to pilot the plane into the Frejis sky, unaware that Yor is also on board.

Back at the WISE hideout, Sylvia thinks to herself that "the fate of the world depends on getting that microfilm…we're counting on you, Twilight."

Back at the battleship, Anya is trying hard to resist the urge to go to the bathroom. She moves her body back and forth to try and hold off the urge, which only makes Luca ask if she has to go. She says no and that she's just doing a dance she learned at school.

Meanwhile, Fiona infiltrates the Frejis air traffic control so she can communicate with Loid on the plane. She tells him the location of Snidel's battleship. Loid compliments her on being able to get the information so quickly, causing her to say that she's ready to be his lifelong partner anytime and asks again if he'd let her have the wife role for Operation Strix…but the communication line had already been cut.

Back at the battleship, Anya is still doing her "dance" to resist the urge to poop, but she's practically at her limit (Luca and Domitri had also prepared a duck-shaped potty for her). She's sweating, tearing up, and her stomach is rumbling. When she feels her consciousness wavering, a bright light suddenly fills her eyes. She finds herself standing in a beautiful meadow filled with colorful flowers and poop shaped clouds overhead. She hears a voice and looks up to see a divine-looking old man surrounded by light. He has a poop shaped crown and he's holding a staff with a poop shaped top. He tells her that he's the god of poop.

He says, "You've fought well, warrior Anya. You've tried your best to protect world peace but...enough is enough." He puts his hand on her shoulder. She can feel his compassion flowing through his palms. "Relax your butt and rest, warrior Anya. Let's go to the peaceful garden of the toilet!" Anya tries to fly through the sky like the poop god, but ends up falling into the ocean. However, she's saved by waves of toilet paper that lift her towards a temple lined with statues of the poop god. A toilet is enshrined in front of the statues. The poop god gives a shout, and the toilet paper carrying Anya turns into a giant duck potty. The poop god waves his staff and the duck speeds out of the water, heading towards the bathroom above the alter. The lid of the toilet opens with another shout from the poop god and the duck moves faster. Finally the duck bursts into a ball of light and Anya falls, laughing, into the shining toilet.

Back in reality, Anya finds herself on a bed in a room on the battleship. After hearing her mutter to herself about "what's the god of poop?" Luca excitedly asks if she's ready to poop and puts the duck potty on the bed. As soon as Anya looks at the duck, she comes to her sense and says, "no, I'm good." While Anya stays with Domitri, Luca reports to Snidel that Anya still hasn't pooped yet. Snidel tells him to cut open her stomach. Luca is taken aback by this and tries to protest, but after Snidel presses him, he reluctantly agrees to do it.

Meanwhile, Domitri is trying an exorcism ritual to get Anya to poop – he makes her lay on the bed with a banana, corn, and a pineapple along with coffee beans between them, all the while singing a song about "yellow three." When Luca returns, he asks Domitri what he's doing. Domitri replies that according to his coffee fortune telling, "yellow three" is lucky. Luca then tells him Snidel's orders and asks if Domitri would do it. Since neither of them want to, they decide via rock-paper-scissors, and Domitri wins. Anya reads Luca's mind about how he's going to cut open her stomach while Domitri holds her down. She starts shaking and thinks of Papa and Mama.

Meanwhile, Loid flies the plane close to the battleship and contacts them on the radio. He says that his plane is in a state of emergency due to a fuel system failure and would like to request an emergency landing on the battleship. When one of the soldiers tells Snidel that an unknown aircraft is requesting permission to board, Snidel demands that they shoot it down. Loid steers the plane out of the way of the sudden hail of bullets while Yor, still hiding in the back, hangs on as the plane starts shaking violently.

Back on the battleship, Domitri holds Anya while she screams for Papa and Mama. Luca approaches with a knife.

Back outside, Loid desperately steers the plane to avoid the gunfire from the battleship, including homing missiles. In the back compartment, Yor isn't able to see what's going on, so she thinks to herself that Loid's driving is…rough. Loid manages to dodge the missiles, but one of them explodes next to him, causing the fragments to fall on the plane and damage the left wing. He knows that crashing is inevitable, so he steers the plane towards the battleship. The impact of the plane crashing into the battleship shakes the room where Domitri, Luca, and Anya are in. They all lose their footing and fall, causing Domitri to let go of Anya. She then runs away and through the hallway while they give chase.

Loid jumps out of the cockpit with his bag of spy tools and onto the battleship as the plane crashes. He thinks to himself that he first needs to confirm where Anya is and heads through a narrow passageway. Meanwhile Yor makes her way out of the back part of the plane only to be greeted by a huge gust of wind. She's surprised to be on the outer part of a battleship. She peeks inside the cockpit to look for Loid, but he's not there. She remembers that Loid said Anya was with the military, so she must be on the battleship somewhere. The opening to the bottom of the battleship is too narrow, so she decides to go via the top, breaking into a fast sprint.

The soldiers find the plane wreckage and Snidel gives orders to search for survivors. When one of the soldiers tells him that there's a woman running along the outer part of the battleship, he thinks he's joking. But then he looks at the monitors and sees Yor for himself. He commands that they kill her, since she decided to come aboard using that plane, that makes her an enemy. The turrets at the top of the ship begin firing at Yor, but she swiftly dodges them. One of the soldiers readies a grenade, but she takes off her coat and throws it at him, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards. When the soldier falls through the deck onto the catwalk, the grenade falls from his hand. Yor gets away just as the grenade explodes, causing the area around the hatch where the soldiers were firing to burst into flames. The soldier watching from the monitor shouts "Explosion on deck 3A!" When she encounters the soldiers, Yor politely says that she came to pick up her husband and daughter, but the soldiers were already unconscious from the explosion. She heads further into the ship. The fire continues to spread through the battleship. Snidel commands the soldiers to go put out the fire, and when asked what to do about the woman, he says to send out Type F.

Meanwhile, Anya is still running away from Luca and Domitri (while still holding her butt). She manages to elude them by slipping into a room without them noticing. She listens by the door, and when she hears that they went off to look for her elsewhere, she breathes a sigh of relief. As she turns around, she notices a toilet in the back of the room. Tears start welling in her eyes…after a long and painful battle, she finally won.

Loid hides in a small room while soldiers are running through the corridors. He wonders to himself what the explosion was and if the plane crash could have possibly damaged the ship's hull. He peeks through a gap in the door and notices an officer who appears to be a captain based on the number of stars on his badge.

After giving orders to the soldiers, the captain walks towards the door. Loid pulls him in, knocks him out, and gags him. He then steps out of the room, now disguised as the captain, wearing his clothes and donning a mask with his face.

The sound of sirens are blaring through the battleship. Yor notices the soldiers desperately trying to put out the fire and apologizes to them. She again says that she came to get her husband and daughter and asks if there's anyone who knows where they are. One of the soldiers looks up and shouts "It's that woman!" The soldiers begin firing at her, but she jumps out of the way, grabs a nearby fire extinguisher and throws it at them, knocking them down like bowling pins. She's confused as to why they're shooting at her, then thinks that they could be part of the bad guy group that attacked Anya on the train. She picks up two knives that the now unconscious soldiers dropped. She then thinks of Anya being in trouble, without anyone protecting her, and her face becomes clouded with anxiety as she tightly grips the knife in her hand.

Meanwhile, Anya happily bursts out of the bathroom with a refreshed look on her face, toilet paper rolling down her feet…only to bump right into Luca and Domitri. Domitri stands proudly with toilet paper around his feet, boasting about his toilet paper fortune telling. Anya's face goes pale. Snidel is informed by one of the soldiers that the child has been secured, and he commands that they bring her to him.

As she continues looking for Loid and Anya, Yor arrives at the entrance to the air cell and pries open the heavy door. She's met with a blast of hot air. The fire has spread all over the spacious room. As she goes further in, she feels a murderous intent behind her. As soon as she starts to look over her shoulder, gatling guns begin firing at her. She jumps out of the way as bullets are showered on her. She goes further down in the air cell just as a gigantic figure appears, slowly moving towards her with heavy footsteps. She politely asks who he is, but Type F doesn't answer. He reaches towards her but Yor kicks him to the ground, only to have more bullets fired at her that she subsequently dodges. She pulls out the knife and pounces on him, managing to knock off his helmet. She asks him to stop attacking but instead he presses his forehead against the knife, making a very inhuman metallic sound, breaking the knife. The arms of his cloak, that had been engulfed in flames, burn off to reveal that he wasn't holding gatling guns, but his arms themselves are guns. The rest of his cloak burns off, revealing a body made entirely of weapons. After he calls Yor an "intruder," she readies the other knife, realizing she has no choice but to fight him.

Meanwhile Loid, still disguised as the captain, gives orders to the soldiers to help them put out the fire. When one of the soldiers asks where the hostage is, Loid questions him and he explains that she's a child about five years old and that officer Domitri took her to the bridge.

At the bridge, Anya is tied and gagged in front of Snidel. Snidel is upset that they missed getting her poop, but Luca says that it could still be in the sewage tanks. Snidel says that it could also still be in her body, which makes Anya even more afraid. Snidel tells them to keep her in the room downstairs and he'll "take care of her" once all the chaos on the battleship is over, while also ominously adding that he brought an extra big knife to enjoy kebobs. He then orders them to go into the sewage tanks and find the microfilm or else he'll cut them like kebobs too.

After leaving Anya in the room, Luca and Domitri grumble about how they're in such a mess because of some greedy kid, and Luca groans that he's still sore from being bitten by the stupid dog. Suddenly Loid, still disguised as the captain, gets the jump on them and knocks them out. He wonders why Anya isn't here since this should be the only bridge on the ship. He enters the room where Snidel is and says that he's going to report on the status of the firefighting operations, but Snidel dismisses him, saying that he's busy now.

In the room below, Anya can read Loid's mind but she can't move or talk due to being tied up and gagged. She realizes that she's tied to a telephone pipe that leads to the room above, so she slams her head against the pipe to get Loid's attention. Just as Loid is deciding to back off so as not to make Snidel suspicious, he hears the banging in the pipe and notices a hatch right below it. He realizes that Anya must be under there, so he pulls off one of the buttons on his uniform and pretends he's going to pick it up when it rolls near the hatch. However, Snidel says "wait, captain" and asks him when he began to smell like...a city. Snidel then immediately shoots at Loid, who manages to dodge, but the bullet grazes the face mask that he's wearing. Snidel continues to fire at Loid, who hides behind a console in the room. Snidel asks if he's the traveler from Rubble and Bonds and says that he shouldn't underestimate the nose of a gourmet like himself. Realizing he's been found out, Loid tears off the captain's mask. Snidel and the other soldiers begin exchanging gunfire with Loid.

Back in the air cell, Type F continues to shoot at Yor, his gatling gun arm having now turned into a grenade launcher. She narrowly dodges his attacks and grabs a fire extinguisher set (with an axe) from the wall. They end up crashing down through the floor, with Yor slamming the axe onto his chest as hard as she can. However, this only reveals a firearm magazine in his chest hatch. The magazine sends bullets into the gatling gun. He aims at Yor again but she jumps away in time. As they stare each other down in the flame filled room, she wonders what she can do against an enemy who can't be damaged by knives or axes.

Meanwhile, Loid continues to exchange gunfire with Snidel and his soldiers. Snidel opens an attaché case with a gas mask and grenade that he calls "Type G." Anya reads Snidel's mind about the grenade being a poison gas grenade that he's been developing and wants to test out. She starts panicking, trying desperately to break free from her binds so she can warn Loid about the poison gas. An image of Loid covered in wounds as he tries to save her flashes in her mind as she thinks "It's Anya's turn to save you!"

Snidel pulls out the pin from the Type G and throws it over to the console where Loid is hiding…just as Anya breaks free. As the rope suddenly breaks, she falls and rolls across the floor, hitting her head against a console in the back of the room. A green light illuminates on the console. Suddenly, the windows in the bridge open and gas starts getting blown all over, much to the confusion of Snidel and the soldiers. Loid uses this opportunity to make a move.

As the gas eventually leaves the room through the open windows, Snidel's men are shocked at what they see through the dissipating gas – their leader Snidel wrestling with…another Snidel! One Snidel tells them to shoot the imposter while the other says that he's the real one. Loid (disguised as Snidel) thinks to himself that since Snidel is the only one with a good nose, he just has to fool the others. Snidel brandishes his knife and threatens to tear off Loid's "imposter skin" and turn it into pork scratching. But Loid gets the upper hand and manages to grab Snidel and cause him to lose his balance, saying that his "imposter" skin isn't so flimsy that it could be cut off by the likes of Snidel. He wraps his left arm around Snidel's neck and tightens his grip, causing Snidel to drop the knife in his hand.

The soldiers are still confused about which is the real one as Snidel's body falls to the floor. Loid says "Do you think I'd lose to a fake," fooling the soldiers into thinking he's the real one. He tells them that they're to head to the Arbo Republic as soon as possible and that they're abandoning the ship. He commands them to use the land route instead. Carrying the body of the real Snidel, the soldiers leave with shouts of "all personnel abandon ship!" When he's finally alone, Loid takes off his Snidel disguise.

Meanwhile, Type F's right arm is overheating but he tells Yor it's no use waiting until he runs out of bullets. Even though his chest plate was torn off earlier, all Yor has left is a broken knife…until she feels around in her pocket and pulls out the lipstick that Loid had bought her. She lowers the knife and tells Type F "this is your last warning, please stand aside. I only came here to get my husband and daughter." But Type F just says that they should all perish together along with the future of the East and West. He then readies another round of bullets. Yor dodges and makes a wide circle around him, dragging the lipstick along the floor. She slashes at his chest with the knife, causing the knife to break. As he jeers that a knife won't work on him, he looks confused for the first time when he notices a line drawn around him with the lipstick, leading up to his chest. She says that she heard that lipstick is half oil. He tries to shoot at her again but it's too late…the flames along the railing run down the lines of lipstick, igniting the weapons embedded in his body, causing him to explode. After confirming that he's been destroyed, Yor continues on her way.

Back on the bridge, Loid opens the hatch to the door where Anya is and jumps down. She's overjoyed to see him as he asks if she's okay. She clings to him and buries her face in his chest. Just then, something falls out of her pochette – the cherry liquor. She tells him it's what Papa was looking for and he realizes that's why she ran away from the hotel. Upon realizing this, he can't help but smile, and Anya smiles too when she reads the thoughts he won't say. Just then they hear a loud explosion. Loid holds onto Anya as the ship shakes from the explosion. "Anyway, we better get out of here" he says.

Meanwhile, Yor opens the hatch at the top of the air cell and makes her way to the outer part of the airship where she sees Loid and Anya. They're both surprised to see her. "Mama!" Anya says as she runs to Yor, who gently hugs her while asking if they're both alright.

Loid asks the same of Yor while also asking why she's here. After hesitating a bit, she admits that she came on Loid's plane and that since it was an "outing," that they should have gone together. She then asks if the people on the airship are actually the military. Loid pauses since he can't tell her the real explanation, but then Anya speaks up about how she ate their important chocolate on the train and that's why they were after her. Loid thinks to himself about how they must have hid the microfilm in the chocolate, but he can't tell that to Yor. So he says that chocolate theft is rampant in cold regions because people believe it will keep them warm...they'd even steal from a military ship. Yor believes him and comments that there's a lot of scary people in the world. They both scold Anya for what she did: Loid asks what the heck she was doing eating that by accident (while in his mind he's glad that she's safe) and Yor says that she shouldn't do whatever she wants with something that belongs to someone else. Anya guiltily says "sorry" and they both can't help but smile at her. They hear more explosions and Loid says that they need to get off the ship. Anya points towards the window and they realize that the ship is heading right towards the city of Frejis. Loid begins operating the device on the console. Yor asks if he knows how to operate it and he says that he knows how from when he did it as part time work when he was a student. Yor is impressed, but Anya knows he's lying.

Down in Frejis, people notice the large, burning battleship descending towards the town and begin running all over in a panic. On the battleship bridge, the ceiling blows off, causing an extremely strong wind to blow. Loid realizes that the propulsion system and lifting platforms are dead, and wonders if it's even possible to make a safe landing or even change course. Behind him, Yor and Anya are holding onto each other while the latter shouts "You can do it, Papa!" Loid says not to worry since the rudder is still intact. However, when he grips it, he can hardly get it to move and the ship is still losing altitude. Debris from the broken ceiling rains down on his head, causing him to lose his balance. Just then, he feels something on his right hand…Yor's hand. And on his left hand, Anya's. "Please let me help, too" says Yor, "Anya too!" says Anya. Working together, the three of them are able to move the rudder little by little.

The Frejis clock tower looms before them but they're able to steer the ship so that it narrowly avoids colliding and only grazes the side of the clock tower. The ship continues to lose altitude, heading towards the surface of a large frozen lake. Yor hugs Anya close to protect her as the ship shakes violent from the impact of the landing. The battered ship glides along the surface of the water at high speed, whipping up a cloud of steam. The frozen water crashes onto the ship, putting out the fire. On a hill not too far away from Frejis, Bond and Fiona stand near Fiona's car and watch with bated breath as the battleship crashes into the lake. "Senpai…" "Borf, borf, borf!"

Back at the ship, the Forges escape from the collapsed bridge and onto the roof. They look in wonder at the pretty scene before them of the glittering ice particles shining against the city lights like diamond dust. Suddenly, water that had collected on the deck roof pours onto them like a waterfall, leaving them soaked. They're perplexed for a moment before Anya bursts out laughing with a "waku waku splash!" Then Yor also laughs. As he watches the two of them laughing, Loid smiles softly.

Suddenly Anya sneezes and Loid notices something in her mouth. Loid realizes it's the microfilm, smaller than a fingernail. He wonders if it had somehow gotten stuck in her teeth. When Yor asks what it is, he clutches the microfilm in his hand and replies with a smile, "it's a return ticket."

The next morning at Berlint, Yuri listens to the news at his desk at the SSS: "The flying battleship that landed in Lake Frejis last night appears to have been an accident during a training flight. The committee has announced that it has already begun interviewing the manufacturer and the military." He remembers that Frejis is where Yor said she was taking a trip to and he wonders if she's okay. His lieutenant then opens the door and requests some documents. Yuri asks why the SSS has to be the ones to clean up this incident, and the lieutenant replies that if the people found out that the military was behind it, that would be troublesome. After the lieutenant leaves, Yuri muses to himself how it seems that WISE intervened in the incident though there's no solid information. He wonders how they could have possibly done it, then thinks "it must have been him…Twilight."

At the WISE hideout, Sylvia reads the newspaper headline which states that there were no survivors of the battleship incident. She compliments Loid, saying that even though the SSS put out the fire so to speak, he managed to not leave a trace of the Forgers' involvement. Loid replies that yes, the Forgers were just enjoying a normal family vacation. He takes out a wine bottle from his bag. Sylvia peels off the label, revealing the microfilm. She then tells him that he's back in charge of Operation Strix, much to Loid's surprise. She hands him a photo of Depple at night with a strange woman and says that his affair was exposed and he was disowned by the father of his wife. Loid smiles slightly when he notices that the woman with Depple in the photo is a WISE agent – in other words, he had fallen into their trap.

Afterwards, Loid meets up with Yor, Anya, and Bond at the park by a fountain. Yor asks how his patient was and he replies that it wasn't a big deal considering they called him out of nowhere. Anya asks Loid why there's no fish in the water and he flatly replies because it's a fountain. She then calls to Yor, taking her hand and leading her to the fountain. As Loid watches them happily talk about something, and Bond following along and enjoying himself, Loid lets out a sigh, but his expression is surprisingly soft. He thinks that even though he's able to continue Operation Strix, he can't let his guard down and needs to keep focusing on acquiring stellas. Anya reads his mind and is overjoyed that the Forger family isn't finished. Loid says that they should go home now since Anya has to "train" to make the melemele for the cooking competition tomorrow. Even though they weren't able to eat a real melemele, they at least have the ingredients for one. Anya asks to hold Loid and Yor's hand as she happily chants that she's going to make a yummy pastry. When Yor says that she'll help too, Loid and Anya politely turn her down. They then head home together.

At the Eden classroom, the students are preparing their cooking ingredients. Becky says that she's going to make an orange layer cake that she learned from training with her pastry chef. She asks Anya what she's going to make. When Anya replies "melemele," Damian overhears and comments that it's an old pastry. Anya tells him that if she makes something good, she wants him to have it too. Damian's face reddens as he shouts that he'd never eat anything she makes. With a shocked face, she asks if he really hates it that much. This makes Damian's face redden even more as he shouts that he'd vomit if he ate her food. He runs off with Ewen and Emile following. Becky comments that he's the worst while Anya thinks that the friendship scheme is a failure. Just then, Anya and Becky turn towards the direction of an explosion sound.

Later that day, Anya shows Loid and Yor a note from school saying that the school kitchen broke down so the competition was postponed and the judge was changed to the vice principal due to scheduling conflicts. Anya laments that since it's not the principal, the melemele won't work. Loid thinks for a moment and says that he remembers reading in the school newspaper that the vice principal is crazy about the berry pudding from the southern region. He asks if they should go, and both Yor and Anya agree. Loid opens a map and points out the southern region. He says it's warm there so they shouldn't need a lot of luggage. Anya is excited about going to the ocean and wonders what playing cards she should bring while Loid thinks it would be a good opportunity for her to learn how to swim. Upon hearing all the talking, Bond comes over from where he was sleeping and gives a happy "Borf!"

Meanwhile at Frejis station, Franky trembles in the cold and shouts "Hey Loid, I bought the cherry liquor!!!"

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Afterword: Congratulations if you've read this far! When I first started this project, I honestly didn't think I would write this much for a "summary" 😅 I thought it would just be a few paragraphs tops. But as I translated, I was like "oh, this is interesting, I should write it down!" And I just kept going with that and didn't want to stop! Some may wonder why I would want to spoil myself to this degree, but for me, reading about the movie (in a language I'm not fluent in) is still no replacement for actually seeing it for myself - the novelization doesn't convey every line of dialogue, character action/expression, voices, etc. But now that I know what to expect, I can get myself hyped for the scenes I'm looking forward to seeing while also not getting my hopes up for something I won't see. I don't care to do this for most things, but I'm the opposite when it comes to my hyperfixations like SxF! I'm also not going to give my thoughts on the movie until I see it for myself. But I will say that based on the novelization, even though I thought a few things could be better, overall I think it will be a ton of fun and can't wait to see everything in full animated glory!

Again, please remember to be cautious about where you share spoilers and to properly tag posts on social media. And if you end up sharing large portions of this summary elsewhere, a shoutout to my blog would be nice...I spent many hours working on this!

[klxudykai]

things i've manifested over the past week

i didn't really manifest a whole bunch before this week because i felt like it wasn't working for me up until i realized i just needed to be persistent- (i know im goofy asf you can throw tomatoes at me now LMFAO)

i don't have much of a "routine" if anything it's short and simple. i usually do it when im tired because i feel like me being in a "sleepy state" of mind works better. then i just affirm. but i apply the affirmations to what im doing. so ill say smth like "with every breath i take i get this" or "as im falling asleep i get this". ill even mix it in with affirmations that sound like i have whatever im manifesting and ill say it casually too. like "oh yeah i have this it's pretty cool or whatever". i even visualize that i have what im manifesting and it makes it a lot more believable (i feel like if i can see myself with it, then its possible if that makes any sense)

i dont continue to affirm though because then if i do i dont go to sleep (ESPECIALLY when im trying to shift) and thats why i also add to the affirmation "as im going to sleep" because i feel like that makes me more sleepy. i dont even realize i fall asleep either so it helps a lot.

anyways i thought id share some of the things ive been manifesting considering ive been doing it pretty much daily:

i manifested that i would be in shape for volleyball at school since thats about to start back up soon and my coach wanted us to get a gym membership but i havent worked out once (havent had any time or motivation)

for a while i WAS manifesting that someone that i knew at my old school would transfer to my current school but something in my head was like "nah its not worth putting in effort" so i dropped that (but i have a feel that had i kept manifesting it, it wouldve happened)

i had really bad cramps one night so i affirmed that they would go away as im trying to sleep and they would be gone in the morning (safe to say that worked)

manifested that i have confidence (SPECIFICALLY the confidence that megan thee stallion and sabrina carpenter have)

while also manifesting more confidence i also manifested that people would want to hang out with me more and im desired (may have added a guy into that manifestation??)

its not anything big mostly cause i wanted to start small rather than bite off more than i can chew. its also cause i have a hard time believing my manifestations would work so i decided to just start small with them. also with the second manifestation that i dropped, thats not the first time ive attempted to manifest something and my head told me to just drop it. i dont think its meant to say "oh no that won't work" but its rather protecting me or smth (intuition came in clutch???) but yeah im not stressing about it considering i have all the things ive manifested and i can have so much more.

i dont have much to say anymore, but for the people that doubt manifestation, dont. that shit is real im telling you. if you persist and truly believe you have it, you got it. you dont even have to do much you could just slip it into a conversation or say it before you go to sleep and it will be there. persist, persist, persist. im so fr when i say it works yall. - coming from someone who thought none of my manifestations would come true