#i just desperately wish there was equal appreciation for the relationships in other books

[roseofspades]

don’t get me wrong i absolutely love heartstopper but they way every single other alice oseman book is always first and foremost about friendship i just- i love heartstopper but i’m obsessed with radio silence and solitaire and iwbft and loveless because of something about those friendships which is just so beautiful. incredible and beautiful forms of platonic love is what her books capture so brilliantly. and yes it does kinda disappoint me that only the work that centres around a romantic relationship one gets recognition by general audiences, because while heartstopper is lovely, the whole of the osemanverse is about more than just teenagers coupling up for triple dates. i do think having isaac in the show will allow for some important discussion of aroace experiences and i really hope as things go on, the rest of alice oseman’s work will get the appreciation it deserves. it would just mean so much if broader audiences could see platonic relationships and aro and ace identities as how central and beautiful they are in her other works rather than just through side characters where their feelings are secondary to the romantic relationships.

[cursedvibes]

What are your thoughts on Kenjaku and Yuki Tsukumo? Is there a possiblity they could've come to respect each other's intellect/power, sworn enemies? Friends?

Well, at least from Kenjaku's side that all seems to already be the case. They definitely respect Yuki's intellect and power. While they seem disappointed that she chose to rely on Tengen and wants to steer the world in a direction they disaprove of, they still respect her thought process and are actually happy that she thinks in similar ways they do. She disagrees with them, but Kenjaku appreciates their discussions and I doubt they get many of that calibre ever since Tengen decided to keep to herself, so that makes Yuki special.

She might also be somewhat of a friend to them or she fulfils Kenjaku's requirements for friendship. They see her as an equal both in terms of skill/strength and more importantly intellectually and while I think they think her siding with Tengen and risking her own plans for her is boring, besides that, she does excite them.

It's harder to judge their relationship from Yuki's perspective. She clearly doesn't like Kenjaku (as many do) and finds them irritating (as many do), but I think she still likes talking about her plans and how to change the world with them. They can actually give her pushback, even if their plan is insane. Similar to Kenjaku, I think she appreciates the exchange of ideas. Her talking to Geto in Hidden Inventory shows she likes to receive input from other people and discuss theories. She seems quite desperate for it if she's willing to listen to a teenager going through a mental breakdown for it. Similar to Kenjaku, although I think Kenjaku wouldn't have bothered with Geto's "maybe killing all non-sorcerers will get rid of curses", mainly because it's unrealistic, short-sighted and that isn't Kenjaku's goal or a valuable alternative to it. Either way, since Yuki was an outcast from Jujutsu Tech and seen as a lunatic, I don't think she had many people to have deep discussions with and she missed that exchange. So while she might not have enjoyed the talk with Kenjaku as much as them, I still think she took something valuable away from it. And she respects Kenjaku's intellect/power, simply because they are a real threat.

I honestly wish we had gotten more back-and-forth between them, a real discussion of their principles and plans for the future. It would've also given Yuki a chance to go more into depth on how exactly she plans to make the world break away from cursed energy because as it stands it just sounds like a lofty ideal with nothing to back it up. I wanted to see what steps she had taken to bring that world about. We might find out a little bit more through the book she left behind, but is still very flat and could never cover her full plans, if she had any. Her pushing back against Kenjaku's plan and arguing against them for her own standpoint would have been way more interesting and I think was much needed in their fight to put into perspective what they are actually fighting for here. They have also their experiences with Tengen to bond over. Alas, we didn't get much of that.

[vilajeroshadori]

My Dark Vanessa - afterthoughts

October 26, 2022 I finished My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell, my mind is a mess and I need to write this down somewhere. This book makes me go insane.

There is this pure instinct inside of me that I can’t seem to shake. You have to please men. Please men and your life will be easy. When did this all start? I remember these thoughts consuming me during my teenage years. Looking back everything seemed so defined by how men saw me in these years. Was I attractive to them in that moment? Was I performing well enough? Was I better than the rest of the girls? Was this boy attracted to me or am I just hoping he did? And now, after reading this book, I desperately wish my teen years back. Not because I want to do better than I did back then but because this book makes me feel as if all men think like Strane. And since I want to please men all the time, everyday, I want to “drip with beauty” again. I’m only 23 and I notice how men are not interested anymore. I am in the happiest relationship I’ve ever been in but for some reason this doesn’t matter right now because he is around my own age. What does he know about life and the beauty in it? Older men do. And they start to lose interest in me. I feel like I’m already past my “best before” date. What if it has to do because I desperately wish for someone to worship me like Strane did to Vanessa? Nobody worshipped me like this before. The rational part of my brain knows that this is a good thing, because it means that the men I’ve been with see me as their equal and not something delicate, something to only compare themselves to, something they feel like they need to live up to.

Where is the grace in getting older? I don’t know how to find it right now. Maybe I also wish back the lack of responsibility of this time. Where my biggest academic problem was the last french homework or the small history test I barely had to study for anyway. Was I groomed back then by the male teachers? I felt their eyes on me, their special attention. How they called me a goddess in front of the whole class. When I look at pictures of me back then, I cringe at how badly I wanted to look older. I want to scream at my younger self “Stop with trying to look so old and mature! You will be older and mature for the rest of your life. Your youth is fleeting away by the second! They love you because you are fifteen, not because you look like twenty-one!”

I know deep in my heart that if one of them crossed these boundaries with me, I would’ve done the same thing as Vanessa. So desperate for male attention, I would’ve done all they wanted from me. I can relate to Vanessa in a lot of ways. I understand how ordinary simple men seem to be scared of her. The darkness lurking in her. Isn’t the darkness a reflection of the men wanting to see it in her? A proof of her brokeness, of how she needs fixing only they can provide. To them the darkness seems like an absolution, the reason she needs them in her life. What would poor dark Vanessa do without them? What would I be without men appreciating my looks? Maybe my darkness is a reflection of the thoughts this society plants inside my head. How I hate other women because they seem like my perpetual competition. How I would do so many things for men to notice me. How I’ve already done so many things simply for the attention.

“Maybe that’s what this has always been about - not wanting these men but wanting to be them.” Maybe I have always noticed how men advance faster in life. The only way to keep up is getting in their favour. And what better way to do that than convince them of your beauty? Because what other worth do you have in their eyes, in their gaze? They’ve been conditioned as well, to only see what you look like not what you think, not what you have to say, not what you can contribute. For them you are a pretty doll in their collections, a diamond whose shine reflects back on them. They keep us in this box by reducing us to our looks. If we are perpetually concerned with how we look, there is little time for long-lasting things.

[words--unsharedblog]

02152023

I crave love so terribly, yet I don’t understand why anyone would find value in spending their life with me.

I don’t get it.

I feel like i’m pretty boring, actually. I have a few interests, of course I’d love to travel the world, but that’s it. If I were to go on a date right now, and the person asked me to describe myself? to tell them about me?

I wouldn’t know how to frame it in a positive light. I ran away from college and home to come up to one of the richest areas in central coast, where I live in a basement for $400 a month, go to a job 5 days a week where I pack candy for 7 hours, come back home to eat dinner & nap for too long, only to further destroy my sleep schedule for the next day. and somewhere in between work and home I find time to squeeze in studio sessions where I painstakingly make ceramics that I don’t sell. but i’m exhausted, constantly tired. I don’t have any special musical talents, i’m not good at sports, I don’t watch tv or movies. i hardly read books, I hate to argue. I hate it when I get mad because boy do I get angry. i’m afraid of love, terrified of it. I don’t know what it really means to feel love. I hate the word, it means nothing to me (i wish it didn’t). those 4 letters have only been a sad excuse to justify shitty parenting. I have mommy and daddy issues. I don’t have any relationship with family. family means nothing to me (I wish it did). it was proven time and time again that I was an inconvenience or too complicated to deal with growing up. my problems were my own, I had to handle the emotional repercussions of every life event. I have a hard time trusting people. I never believe it when people want to spend time with me. I go out of my way to avoid conflict at any cost. I don’t want to be seen as a nuisance, selfish, spoiled, uncaring, inconsiderate. I truly believe I am one of the ugliest people in existence. I have my father’s face. I don’t know what it’s like to have a fully unguarded, vulnerable and honest connection with a parent. I parent my parents, I have for a long time. i’m incredibly emotionally stunted. I don’t like sharing my problems with others because I don’t want to burden them. I don’t know what a lover’s touch feels like. i’ve never been on a date before, let alone someone’s girlfriend. i’ve been kissed once, but only by an ex-friend who used me for her curiosity. I don’t know what it’s like to have someone want to kiss me, to desire me, need me, love and seek me out again and again. by choice. a first choice. the only choice. but i’m afraid; the only relationship ever modeled for me was one of intense hatred, spite, determined misunderstanding, and voices hoarse from screaming venomous words. i’m afraid of becoming just like them. I resolved that the best way to mitigate the cycle was to become the martyr. peace, at the cost of my desires. but then is that really peace, if I am unable to reap the rewards of that which i’ve sown? i’ve made a vow to never have children. i’d rather die than maim and scar a child the way my mother has done to me. I feel like i’m better off not having a relationship of my own, spare someone the heartache of having to deal with my baggage. I often wonder if in another life, I had positive, healthy influences as a child, would I want to date, marry and have kids of my own with someone equally as lovely? (I think so). but in this life, I feel like it is my responsibility to rip the toxic merry-go-round from its roots, to die quietly. on my own. no one to answer to, therefore no one to harm. is that what I really want? of course not, i’m a hopeless romantic. I desperately seek love everywhere, in places I won’t find it. I dream of what it might be like to be the subject of someone’s affections. to share life with them, understand their dreams and aspirations and explore those with them, to celebrate their success and mourn their losses. I want to make someone feel loved, desired, wanted, appreciated, needed, understood. seen. I want to experience life together. I want true love. I want a devotion so deep I feel the glorious ache in my bones. I want to feel like I don’t have to hide any parts of myself, that I can feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time, to see myself the way they see me, to really understand what it’s like to feel loved. to find meaning in the word again. to be happy. so…what do you like to do in your spare time?

If they were smart, they’d run. how I hope they run.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

NSFW with Chuck Grant

~ ~ ~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Charles Grant is a walking example of “acts like a badass, is actually a softie” bc BOY, IS HE HARD (lol) TO GET A READ ON. 

When you first start fucking, he doesn’t really have the instinct to stick around after and soak up the afterglow- mostly bc that’s not the dynamic that any of his previous relationships operated under, but also bc he’s like Lieb and doesn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable and potentially having you reject him. He only confidently leaves the first time, and then he judges whether to stay or not on how you look at him as he makes to get dressed after the second time you boink. If you want your space, he’ll go and be back the next day as long as you let him, but if you look even a little bit offended or hurt, he’s getting his ass back in that bed and doing whatever he can to get that sad look out of your eyes.

When he does stay, he’s down to give you whatever he can manage. 

He’s all for slowly kissing you while trailing his fingertips up and down your side, but if you just want to sleep beside him he is more than cool with it (he’ll probably still pet you a lil bit after you fall asleep bc he’s soft for you but shh shh shh don’t tell anyone). The only thing he isn’t very good at doing is pillow talk, especially right after sex. He’s too worried about saying the wrong thing and fucking up what he’s managed to establish with you. 

It isn’t until after he’s shot that he realizes how nice it feels to have someone else take care of him, and when you do so after sex it solidifies the fact that you don’t see him as a burden- you want him and you want to stay. Thank god, too. He doesn’t think he could recover without you (again, not that he’d ever tell you that)

 B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 Your AhhhhhhHSSSSssssSSSSSs!!!!!!

Oh wow, look at you- owner of the cutest butt he’s ever seen. Can he put his hands on it? Can he squeeze it? Please please puh-lease can you let him watch it jiggle as he fucks you? If you’ve answered yes to any of these questions, then you’ve made each and every single one of his dreams come true. 

He doesn’t discriminate in his love for butts- he’s an equal-opportunity appreciator of the Majesty of the Female Ass™. If it changes size throughout your relationship, he’ll love it even more. Absolutely shameless.

On himself? He likes his legs- especially his thighs. 

He likes how strong they are, despite how much he hates Sobel for getting them to their current strength re: Currahee. But he gets over it quickly bc oh wow is he happy with their endurance while trying to keep up with you, both sexually and otherwise. The day he realized you could ride yourself to orgasm on them was the day he died and went to heaven and was sent back to sin again.

 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

 He likes cumming on your pubic mound and then watching it slide down your pussy, thank you very much. If you guys are trying for kids or in a position where you don’t have to worry about not having kids, he’ll cum inside of you happily but oh wow he likes watching it slide down your lower lips. BONUS POINTS if he gets to catch it on his thumb and either stick it in your mouth OR circle your clit with it in order to get you off one more time.

Also, you asking him where he wants to cum on you gets him hot under the proverbial collar. 

 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 He’d do literally anything for you if you’d let him put his finger in your ass. He will genuinely kill an individual of your choice if you let him put his cock there instead. What a perv (jk it takes a lot of vulnerability for some people to convey their wants and desires to their partners plz remember that this has been a PSA).

The one thing he’ll never actually tell you about... EVER is that for a little while after meeting you for the first time in Georgia, he started hooking up with a girl who he didn’t realize (until much later) bore a striking resemblance to you. He’d had to end the relationship when he straight-up called out your name when he came (he was a lil drunk, just tipsy enough to slip up) and full-on booked it out of there bc not only had he pissed the girl off, but his shout had woken up her family- namely her very angry father- and barely escaped with his life.

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

 He’s had two lovers before you, but one of them was really experienced and patient and bless that woman. All he really has to do is learn what you like and he’ll commit it to memory. 

And you better be damn sure that he’ll use that knowledge against you/for his benefit. 

 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 Doggy style for all the reasons mentioned before. Or reverse cowgirl. Or normal cowgirl. His hands + your butt= dream combo.

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 He can be goofy, but more than anything else he likes it when you’re goofy. Chuck can get a little too in his own head at times, which can lead to frustration/self-doubt- ESPECIALLY while recovering from his brain injury. You reminding him that sex is meant to be fun does him a huge favor, bc poor lamb will forget that every so often.

So please, nibble at his earlobe in that way that tickles him. Make a quip at the expense of one of your friends. Mock the silly sound of the moan you just let slip out.

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

 He’s not going to groom unless you tell him to, but he also doesn’t feel like you need to groom for him, either. Chuck’s not afraid to admit how much his personal hygiene has improved since meeting you. 

I can promise you that if you’re heavily invested in skin/hair care, he’ll probably be just as into building his own routine. 

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 You always have Chuck’s full and undivided attention during sex, but he won’t necessarily show it unless he gets the guy feeling/you tell him that you want him to be. He’s going to whisper sexy things into your ear, call you a good girl (if not his good girl), and do everything in his power (at the time, at least (he can get a little distracted if you’re doing something particularly sexy)) to make sure you feel just how appreciated you are. He gets more and more confident in his PDA as your relationship progresses, but when it’s just you two? You’ll never meet a bigger sweetheart.

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 Ok, so I’m deciding for you that mutual masturbation is a thing that you’re both into, m’kay? 

I'm also making the executive decision that you really enjoy watching him get himself off. You walked in on him one time, before you’d had sex, and were so stunned that you just watched in rapt attention until awkwardly backing out of the room and slamming the door shut. He’d nearly cum right then and there, and it got you extremely aroused. 

The next time you see each other, at some Georgia bar while on a pass, you offhandedly mention that you wish you hadn’t left and FROM THAT DAY ON he always lets you know when he’s feeling the urge and how you’re more than welcome to watch.

And when you do? It’s always a much shorter experience than he intends bc wow how hot are you?

 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 Frottage! Dry Humping! Grinding!

Allow me to explain:

In the months following D-Day, it was quickly understood that being on the frontlines meant having traditional forms of sex were no longer on the table (hehe) for you two. You’d experimented with rucking your trousers down your thighs, his thighs, both of your thighs, and each time it was a disaster (with one of the worst times ending up falling onto Tab after he’d inadvertently opened a door that Chuck had been fucking you against. Chuck had nearly thrown fists when Tab refused to look aware from your bare ass.)

So yall started grinding- quickly finding out that the bunches of fabric separating your bodies not only led to new forms of stimulation, but it also meant that you both started to utilize dirty talk. There’s something about your trembling lips at his ear, your warm whispers of ‘so good’ and ‘is this really all you need, Chuck? Me, writhing on you like this? What does that say about you, you desperate boy??’

Boy’s bought a one-way ticket to Boner City, USA.

PLUS! What a way to keep warm during Bastogne? Everyone is so jealous that they don’t have a super foxy megahot babe like you to grind upon.

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 Hmm…..is saying anywhere a cop-out? Because he’s down for anywhere, he’ll follow your lead and rise to the occasion. Such a perv i s2g.

 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

 ♫ YOOOUUUUUUUU!!!!!! ♫

You have this one eyebrow quirk you do when you’re in the mood, and it just so happens to be similar to the brow raise you give someone trying to outsmart you (which is another turn on for him- you putting some overly-confident sonofabitch back in their place after allowing them to mansplain at you for a little bit. First boner he ever got (since meeting you, obviously) came after witnessing you telling Joe Liebgott to stfu in cutting German after he’d made some off-color comment about your ass.) 

So, more often than not, he'll get a little turned on when you argue with people. Maybe even when you argue with him- who knows? not me. (i totally do, and he totally is)

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

 Any sort of pain play, on either of you. 

After being in genuine agony for so long while recovering from all of the surgeries, the idea of seeking any more pain out just doesn’t make sense. Chuck also doesn’t want to see you in pain- even if you’re asking him to make you feel it. You’d both suffered through the pain of hunger, frostbite, insect bites, sunburn, and just war in general (all of which had emotionally taken a toll on him bc he felt completely helpless and hated that he couldn’t do anything to take your hurt away). 

Sex and pain just doesn’t go together for him. Sorry not sorry 

 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

 He loves having you go down on him, adores the way your eyes look up at him as if you’re challenging him to withstand your beautiful ministrations. 

He also is a big fan of going down on you, but PLEASE PLEASE PUH-LEASE ride his face. Good lord. 

He’s a sucker (teehee) for it- something about you using him like it’s all you keep him around for gets him hot. You also get this certain snarl on your lips when you are getting close that makes him lose his goddamn mind bc WOW YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE and HOLY SHIT YOU CHOSE HIM OF ALL PEOPLE? WOWOWOW.

 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 He’ll follow your lead/body language in terms of pace. Most sex sessions shift between both slow and deep as well as fast and hard anyway, so he is a fan of both. 

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 A necessary evil, as far as Chuck is concerned. He’ll do them, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the spontaneity of them, but he would prefer not to be rushed when he’s with you.

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 He was riskier until that one time Tab caught you guys, after which he chilled out. Which you are thankful for, bc you’ve spoken with Lieb’s wife and BOY have those two gotten into some embarrassing situations bc of how risky that kid is. 

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 The longest he's gone is 4 rounds (it was celebratory sex on VE day, with both of you in the best shape you'd ever been in and too high on relief to listen to your bodies. Ya'll were sore and dehydrated afterward but LORD was it worth it.

 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 He’d be very open to the idea of toys! On you, he’s automatically cool with it, but it does take him a little bit to get his head around the idea of using toys himself. Again, 40s/50s= somewhat repressed discussion about deviations from the traditional male sexuality- but Chuck is more willing and ready to challenge the societal norms than most. Very sexy of him.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 He always intends to tease you, but more often than not he gets so turned on that he can’t follow that intention through. You are aware of this and ABSOLUTELY weaponize this knowledge. Get it, fam. 

During day-to-day conversation, however, you both tease each other constantly. It’s been like that since you’ve met each other- always making innuendos and one-upping the other and for some reason that never even went away.

When Chuck woke up and the doctors brought you in to see him, the first thing he told you was that you looked terrible. When you’d replied with a sniff, a smile and a “guess the doc’s were full of shit when they said there was no change in your vision, huh?”- Chuck had smiled so hard it hurt.

 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 He’s a choked moan kind of guy. His face gets all scrunched up and his body shakes and he curses quietly under his breath (it’s vv cute and hot, FYI). he doesn’t even try and be quiet on purpose, he just seems to lose the ability to be vocal, tbh. If he’s drinking or if it’s been a hot minute since yall have gotten to do the do, he’ll probably be a bit louder. Like, maybe one loud cry of your name (see: the letter D)

It doesn’t bother him if you make sounds at all, just so you know. If anything, he likes that he’s a quiet cummer bc then he can hear any and all of your sounds.

 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 biting your ass while eating you out from behind is *bang* *bang* *bang* *click* *cash register noise*.

Especially if you squeal and smack at him after he does it.

 X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 Average in all respects but OH MAN does he know how to work it to his advantage. Get ready for a wild ride, my dude. 

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

 Higher post-war, tbh. Chuck had had to be on bed rest for so long that he thought he may never get the chance to have sex again, so he totally makes a point to indulge in you every chance that he can get (but he’s cool if you say no, too).

But, as I mentioned in ‘risk’, he’s not going to be humping your leg in public or anything (ok but imagine if you were a dom to his sub and you made him do that holy fuck)

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 He does not sleep very well, poor bb. He will be asleep but his mind will be working through all kinds of things ranging from PTSD to what shoes he wanted to wear to dinner with your parents that weekend. Good thing there’s a remedy to this ailment- your pussy sex with you!

While he can’t konk out immediately, he is able to relax. He will allow himself to get lost in the rhythm of your breathing, the weight of your hand on his arm or your arm wrapped around his middle. He will sometimes nuzzle into you as you’re drifting off to sleep, and when you press a kiss to his forehead he finally feels safe.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando​ @televisionboy​ @now-im-a-belieber​ @tvserie-s-world​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ 

[handsome-enemy-you-despise]

okay it’s time to be boring, so it’s my salty review on

Love, Theodosia

spoiler I lost my calm demeanour at some point

I don’t judge novels basing on their historical accuracy. At the end of the day as long as novel doesn’t try to make you believe that it was careful with historical narrative it doesn’t matter. So I’ll try to minimise mentioning how little it has to do with history and how shallow author’s study of it was. It’s not like there’s no other problems to choose from.

We’ll start from the good stuff since there’re few. Not gonna lie, I can get enormous pleasure from bad books if they’re funny and some specific lines in this one actually made me laugh out loud. Needless to say all of them were connected with dynamic between Aaron and Alexander. I do love this tendency of literally every author that tries to paint them ending up insinuating in one way or another homosexual nature of their relationship. It clearly was not intended but I appreciate this part since I view their relationship in this light (goes without saying). The other good part for me personally was the way author painted Theo and Philip mirroring their fathers’. The sheer weight of his parents legacy Burr carried on his shoulders, constantly encountering people that expected certain things from him, certain line of behaviour. Desperate wish of Alexander to prove himself, constantly dealing with a feeling of inadequacy. Fear of Theo that she’s nothing without her father. All very familiar, right? All of this is good for a book, I have to admit. But that’s genuinely upsetting how many objectively bad things in it.

1. First problem for me is misogyny which surprised me not a little considering pretty feminist views of Burr for his time. Just imagine. A guy who stated that he wants to prove that women have souls. Man who stated simply and outright that women are as capable to study as men. The one who stated that women at least equal with men, even superior in some instances. Man who lived in 18th century. And you, a woman from 21st century decides that to paint one specific woman special you need to put literally every other women down. This is exactly how the book starts. With her painting other women in a salon as cruel dumb bullies from 00s comedies. Come on. This must be so embarrassing. Especially since she keeps trying to give you a feminist narrative after it. We know Theo was special but you don’t need to make other women look like shit to show it, I promise. It makes all your other narrative choices in this direction look stupid.

2. The whole narrative of Hamilton being a good guy, Burr being a bad one is over-simplistic and boring. it’s 2021, most of the sources are available for free, you can actually create an interesting story without spitting on graves of so many people at once and it would be original and pleasurable to read. I’ve been doing my reading on Burr for a while and frankly speaking I’m gonna get ibs if I see another bland story about him being immoral piece of crap, hungry for power and full of vengeance. I’m not saying he was a saint, god help me, far from it but you could have actually bothered to show him anything but weak, manipulative and cruel. Trust me all that you can think of Cheetham has done before you. And he has done it better. Not to mention Alexander was a quite complex person, with his extremely annoying traits, insecurities and cravings that lead him to be a person he was. Long story short he was an ass and everyone who have read his letters know it. His contemporaries knew it. One of his friends didn’t know what to say on his funerals because “he was vain and opinionated”, “said to be opposed to duelling but he has fallen in a duel”. I know that author obviously tried to take a common route and please fan base of the musical (nothing wrong with it in principal) and it costed Hamilton his entire personality somehow.

3. And to the main problem for me now. And this is the part that drove me insane and ruined my mood for a whole time I’ve been reading it except for small moments of Hamilton and Burr being their usual dumb selves. The main problem is the way Lori portrayed the whole relationship between Theo and her father. The worst thing I’ve seen in a few month and I read passage about Thomas Jefferson’s masturbation a few weeks ago. She completely missed the mark here. Reminded me of My Theodosia, pieces of which I saw a few times. This is the situation when a person has no clue what they’re talking about and with each word make situation worse and worse. The whole time I’ve been reading the novel in question I had flashbacks to all their letters and interactions. They were two people who basically lived in each other’s pocket, who were so close because of their loss, who stuck to each other, desperately at times. I agree that if Theo was in any position to have some personal space it would have been better because it’s in people’s nature to need a brake and more freedom but this is a field I’ll die on, Aaron Burr wasn’t this terrible person Goldstein portrayed him as and he definitely wasn’t this terrible father for Theo. Yes, he definitely had problems with control (most of them did really) and he did depended on her a lot. But there’s no way that after reading their correspondence or his diaries you’ll end up thinking he was so deeply egoistical and cared only about his well being at his daughter’s expense. I kept thinking about this passage from his diary when he had to sell his belongings to survive his stay in Europe and he started selling coins he bought for his grandson and small little things he bought for Theo’s amusement. How he “kissed” these things he was going to sell “and begged her thousands pardons”. The way they were searching for each other in desperate times. These small little moments of affection that you can see in their letters. There’s nothing right with this whole part of the narrative, the same way there’s nothing right with the idea that Burr would have said that his daughter is the only woman who can actually be equal to men, the same way there’s nothing right with the idea of him burning her work and selling her to Alston solely for his benefit. Never in my miserable life you’ll be able to make me believe that Aaron would have hurt his sweet special daughter he adored so damn much. There’re many things I can handle calmly in fiction but this part of their biographies isn’t the one from the list.

4. Gampy is a child of Philip Hamilton? Yeah, sure, let’s bring an innocent child into this fever dream, why not.

Can’t resist but to compare this novel with The Amorous Intrigues and Adventures of Aaron Burr by Unknown author. it’s the 19th century piece of writing. Quite bad, no one really worked on this one. Very simple and low quality porn, it’s clear that it was written by a man and that the guy have never made woman come in his life. And somehow I think this book is much better despite the fact it portrayed Burr in rather unflattering way. The reason is that this book doesn’t really try to mask its real nature. It’s a small story you can’t take seriously no matter how much you try to and it’s actually quite entertaining and funny. Here we have a novel that tries so bad to pass as empowering story about 18th century lady and Romeo and Juliet type of romance between characters and ends up being a poor written story that gives you nothing new from the story’s perspective and just thrives on popularity of the musical. Such a waste of paper.

[amyscascadingtabs]

expecto patronum

Post-The Fugitive. Jake and Amy talk Harry Potter, patronuses, and love.

✨read on ao3  ✨ 

“Hey, babe, I’m home!”

The door makes a distinctive clicking noise behind Jake as he locks it. It’s only one of the many sounds he’s getting used to; his new home is full of them, and they’ve become much more noticeable now that he’s here every day. He’s known his way around this apartment for a long time, but living there, permanently, is different. It’s a good kind of different, though. 

“In here!” Amy shouts from her – from their – bedroom, and Jake hurries to hang up his jacket and bag before going to greet his girlfriend. 

    He’s coming home late tonight. A questioning at work dragged over after a surprise confession, and as exciting as those are, Jake’s bitter over missing dinner and Property Brothers with Amy. He half hadn't expected her to be awake still, but once he was finally free to text her that he was on his way home, she replied straight away to tell him she'd be waiting. Rosa had teased him about how wide he’d been smiling, but Jake hadn’t found it in him to care. 

Amy’s laying on her stomach in bed with a thick book leaned against the pillow, resting her chin against one hand as she reads and holding up the cover with her other. Jake recognizes the book; it’s Prisoner of Azkaban, the third book in the Harry Potter series. He was reading it himself a few weeks ago.

“Ah, Harry Potter. Good choice.”

Amy closes the book against her index finger and looks up at him. “Yeah, you inspired me. How was work?”

“We got a confession,” he grins. “It was dope. Guy just started rambling, pretty much told us his whole life story for some reason, and now we have him. I even got to call the victim’s mom, tell her the news.”

“Sounds like a good day, then.”

“Yeah. Missed seeing you, though.”

“You see me all the time, babe. We live and work together.”

“I know, so it makes me feel even weirder when I don't!”

Amy laughs, letting out that adorable chortling sound he only ever hears when they're alone. Then she looks back to her book, scooching closer to her preferred side of the bed, and Jake takes that as an instruction to change into pajamas so he can join her. 

Any regular night, he would probably have taken time to shower and brush his teeth first, but it's been a long day. He simply undresses instead, smirking as he notices Amy’s subtle side glance when he takes off his shirt. This, these small moments of appreciation between them, is yet another one of the parts he loves most about sharing a life with her – it’s nearly midnight, he’s exhausted and he remembers Amy mentioning starting her period, so sex is almost guaranteed to be off the table – but she still makes him feel attractive, makes him feel confident and wanted. He never realized how much that being an equal exchange meant to him before their relationship.

   “So,” he asks her, “where are you up to in the book, then?”

“Almost finished the whole thing,” she says, looking very proud of herself. “I’m at the time-turner chapter. Harry thinks he saw his dad cast a patronus from the other side of the lake, but then he realizes just saw himself.” 

“Man, that part was so sad.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah!” Jake huffs, crawling underneath the covers. “I just… felt for him, you know? He wishes he could meet his parents, just once, even if he knows it's impossible. He wants this family he never had.”

“It makes you realize how in the end, he's just a kid. A brave kid, but a kid.”

“A kid in desperate need of therapy.”

“Amen,” says Amy, flipping a page. “Hogwarts mental health services do seem to be severely lacking. Did you know the dementors were inspired by the author’s own experiences with depression, by the way?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Dark creatures with the power to bring out all the worst memories in your head, making you feel like you’ll never be happy again. Like you can’t even remember what it’s like. And the only way to defeat them is to hold onto the very happiest moments of your life and create a shield out of them.”

“Kind of deep for a kid's book,” Jake reflects, and Amy nods. 

“Maybe. But it's not pushed on them, either. It's a way for them to understand, without knowing that they're understanding. I always loved that about the Harry Potter books,” she says, a sudden dreamy look in her eyes. “They're just… intelligent.”

   Jake means to agree with her, but then his body remembers he's been at work for the entire day, and out comes an embarrassingly big yawn that makes Amy laugh. 

“Long day? I can read to you if you want.”

“Dreamgirl,” he mumbles. Amy rolls her eyes, but then she reaches out to pull him closer, her left hand running through his hair as she holds the book with her right, and he can see her smiling.

   Jake's not sure how long she's reading for. He loses track of time, but frankly, he doesn’t mind. Amy's reading voice is low, peaceful enough to relax him but varied enough to entice him at the same time. Her fingers keep brushing through his curls as she reads, tracing soft circles on his scalp. He listens to her read the part where Harry and Hermione fly on Buckbeak to rescue Sirius, and it doesn't matter that he read the book himself just a few weeks ago, because he could listen to her voice forever.

   He gets to do that now, he realizes, because they live together now. It may only have been a week, and not completely without its challenges, but it already feels like one of the best decisions of his life. Even though they were spending almost every night together before as well, there’s something special about coming home and Amy already being there. Not because they’ve made specific plans for her to be, but because that’s the norm, because home is the same place for the two of them now. There’s something intimate about getting to share a routine with her, working out a system for who gets the bathroom when in the morning, adding stuff onto the same grocery list. Even seeing his t-shirts next to hers in the dresser puts a smile on his face in the morning. It feels grown-up, and it feels stable, and it feels right. 

    He wonders sometimes if he could have imagined this the night she knocked on his door to tell him screw light and breezy. Honestly, he probably could have, even if he was too proud to admit it to himself in the beginning. But after a year and a half of dating, of which six excruciating months were spent apart (and hopefully no more will ever be, he thinks), Jake couldn’t care less about pride. He loves Amy Santiago, and he wants to spend all the time he can with her, give her everything and share his life with her for as long as she’ll let him. That, if anything, makes him proud. In any case, it’s like he said that first night undercover as Johnny and Dora – there’s really no one else’s opinion he cares about more than hers. 

    Amy finishes the chapter, reaching for a bookmark before putting the book on her nightstand.

“There,” she laughs. “That’s your goodnight story.”

“Mm, one more chapter.”

“Mm, no. It’s late, babe.”

“I have a question,” he says then, knowing it’ll garner her attention and give him some more treasured quality time before they really have to go to sleep. Amy raises an eyebrow and shakes her head lovingly at him, but then she nods. “Harry’s patronus is a stag, right? Like his dad’s animagus form. And in the fifth book, Hermione has an otter, and Ron some kind of dog.”

“A Jack Russell terrier. Yeah, why?”

“How is your patronus determined? Like… how does it know?”

“It’s supposed to reflect your innermost personality,” she answers, not missing a beat. “It represents something about you that makes you who you are. Something that gives you strength, I would say. So for Harry, that would be the thought of his parents fighting for him.”

“I like that,” Jake says. “A lot of things in that universe are just grossly poetic though, aren't they?”

This makes Amy chuckle. “Very true.”

“What do you think yours would be?”

“Oh. Hmm.” She presses her lips together. “I don't know. What do you think?”

“We could find out,” He grins, reaching for his phone. “I’m sure there's a BuzzFeed quiz.”

      He's right – and although Amy rolls her eyes at him at first, they end up having a laugh at the quiz, picking the options they think best suit the other one and shrugging when the results suggest Amy’s would be a horse, and Jake’s a stag.

“The descriptions are pretty accurate, though,” Amy says, reading from Jake’s phone. “Brave and fearless, and your greatest asset is your ability to love. Sometimes you get a bit hot-headed and impatient –” Jake fake-gasps. “– but your friends are your source of peace, getting you through the good and bad.”

“I still think it should be a ninja turtle,” he mutters. “But yours is true, too. Loyal, smart, underrated badass.”

“It just gave us the same patronuses as Harry and Ginny.” Amy smiles. “They do get together later, so I guess that works.”

“Spoilers! I haven’t gotten to that part yet!”

“Oh, come on, it’s really obvious.” She kisses the pouting grimace off of his face. “Different question. What memory would you use to cast your patronus?”

“I have thought about that,” he confesses, blushing. “It’s a three-way tie. The first time you told me you loved me. That evening when you stood outside my door and told me you wanted to be with me, for reals. Maybe even our first date, after the bet. All of those, together… I think they’d make a damn good patronus.”

“Wow.” Amy almost looks taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting that moment of sincerity. “I’m surprised you didn’t just say the first time we had sex or something.”

“Would you have wanted me to say that? Wait, is that yours? Santiago –”

“Oh my god, obviously not –”

“Obviously? Wow, hurtful, much –”

“Just let me finish!”

“Title of –”

“Stop!” Amy’s shaking with laughter, holding her hand on top of his mouth just for a second. “Stop, stop. What I meant to say was that it’s the same for me. That’s what I’d think of, too.”

“Even the bet? Even though you lost?”

“Yes, babe. Even though I lost.”

“So it wouldn’t be the first time we had sex, then.”

She smirks. “We’ve had better since.”

Then she leans over him, and her lips are on his, insistent but soft at once. His heartbeat’s speeding by the time she pulls away, and it satisfies him to see that her face is a little flushed, too. 

“For the record,” Jake mumbles as she rests her head on his chest after, “this, right here – would also work for a damn good patronus.”

“Oh, yeah. No dementor would stand a chance.”

“Mm. You’re a nerd, but I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her and allowing himself a brief moment to revel in the feeling that’s started growing in him recently.

Forever, this could be forever.

[sloppy-butcher]

Can you do C E J K L X for Trapper? :)

yes. i am still answering these. i apologize for the wait, these past few days have been rough but i am finally working through the block. thank you for the ask and i hope these are good enough for you and imm sorry for the wait <3

;;edit, pls no more fluffy alphabet requests, thank you :)

Fluffy Alphabet for The Trapper (Evan Macmillan)

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

It may take a while for him to notice you suffering over there in the corner, his head so far lost in his own thoughts that all the world around him was a passing blur. But once he does, when your soft whimpering breaches his overcrowded ears, Evan would immediately call you over. He’d grunt softly, his gruff voice shattering the nights silent air and causing you to raise your head and cast your troubled eyes over him. Evan curses himself for not noticing earlier.

A large, scarred hand stretches out and welcomes you to join. Once you manage to curl up beside him, Evan pulls you even closer, his big arm acting as a makeshift scoop and firmly secures you to his side. He would use his massive body as a shield of sorts to protect you from yourself and the cruel outside world. Though words are not exchanged, your true feelings never really given verbal expression, your anxieties begin to die and burn away from the heat of Evan’s body.

He uses his size to comfort you and his intimacy to project his support for your plea. He is there to guard you, maybe not to talk, but to stay with you until it eventually passes.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He would be the dominant one. 100%. Though he is not one to verbally command you, it is through side ward looks and scowls that he gets his point across. He folds his arms and looks down at you, the brow behind his mask furrowed in annoyance. 

He determines when it is a good time to cuddle, when to smooch him, how hard or how gentle. It’s not the he doesn't enjoy your affections, it’s just that he is very busy man and must plan his time accordingly. As much as he loves to indulge in your love, he must keep up the hard work lest his boss catch wind and take you away. 

You can try be a brat to him, stomp your feet and complain about the lack of cuddles. But that little act won’t get you too far with a man who can just pick you up as if you weigh nothing and sling you over his unharmed shoulder. It would be like trying to fight a brick wall - impossible. 

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh yes - very much so. He gets jealous at even a mere look from another survivor or killer. Though he does not show it, Evan is a very possessive man, guarding his things with the politeness of a viper in a gentleman’s suit. he holds his tongue and steads his hand but his eyes say it all.

You are his and his alone. If you are so interested in other then leave and don’t involve him. But as long as you claim to love him, giving him your body and soul, then he will protect you and possess you like he did with everything else valuable in his life. 

He glowers at passerbys, he spits at idle talkers and he flexes his biceps threateningly at lingerers. He towers behind you like great storm, rolling in power and violence. You could ask him why he acted like such a child but you would get no response from him. This was not a talking matter - things like these have to be demonstrated. And so they shall. 

How Evan internally deals with this growing lump of jealousy is he sits alone and thinks - more like contemplates. he ponders away and has bountiful ‘shower-conversations’ in his head. Sure acting this way would make him perceive to be an asshole but to hell with what others think. He would die before he’d ask someone to step down. 

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

In the beginning, no way. The man has had little to no practice at all and is completely lost when you first approach him with a smooch. He’s dead stiff and his eyes remain open as if afraid you are pulling some kind of cruel trick on him or that you might disappear in disappointment. His lips are chapped and many times when you have pulled away you find blood on your lips and can taste copper in your mouth. He apologizes for his appearance and asks why you would even wish to be so intimate with such a monster. You reassure him by placing your hand on his cheek and pressing your forehead to his, “Because I love you, Evan.”

However, with enough practice, he softens and succumbs to your encouragement. Once he eases into kissing Evan becomes very demanding and can go quite a long time without breathing. His tongue is also very powerful and is often very hungry. When he gets like this, Evan will cup the back of your head in his big hands and will provide you with extra support as he deepens the kiss, leaning into you with great, needy force. His tongue is unstoppable as his hunger for your love grows.

The first kiss is most definitely awkward and quick, a dream of a kiss that goes by too fast for it to be properly appreciated. You catch him working at his bench, his hands preoccupied with his copious amounts of bear-traps and spare parts. You wander in beside him, casting an eye over his shoulder and noting all the new cuts and bruises on his fingers. You sigh and lean into him. Evan immediately bends to your presence, sighing in his own way and relinquishing some of his attention to you.

Oh, how wonderful you are to him. So kind and forgiving, beautiful as the sun he never sees anymore. Evan moves closer to your warmth, allowing himself to momentarily bask in your love. As his face moves towards yours, an idea sparks and before he could full asses the pros and cons of such a venture, he smashes into your lips. Keep in mind, he was still wearing his mask and when he pulled away, Evan saw blood leaking from small cuts along your lip line. Evan feels unspeakably shameful for hurting you with his neediness. You smile and gently guide his face back to yours. You promise to kiss him more if he takes his mask off next time.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

If Evan could go his whole life without admitting he had feelings for you, then he would gladly do so. He has buried many a things deep in his heart, tucking them away under rugs and behind paintings where they would never see the light of day again. Yeah, sometimes the burden of these suppressed emotions would eat away at his soul always leaving him feeling just that bit emptier and hollow. 

He supposed he could just bury his love for you the same way he buried everything else, but that bitch had claws and an iron grasp - he simply could not run away from his feelings towards you.

So one night, when the build-up in his chest grew too painful to hush over, Evan stops you as you try to leave. It was late and you were saying your goodbyes when you notice his hesitation. He remained stoic, his face an impossible book of unimaginable rumination. He shuffles awkwardly for moment before managing to choke out a single phrase.

“Stay.”

In that simple word you feel his true intentions, his complete and restrained desperation to not be alone. You see his hand twitch towards you and you understand his silent plea. You nod your agreement and nothing more is said. 

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle? 

Most days, not really. Like previously explained, Evan is a man of routine and most of is work days have no spare time for excessive cuddling and the such.

However, he is ALWAYS craving your touch. 

When the odd off-day arrives, Evan wastes no time in scooping you up in his large, beefy arms and taking out his frustrations on you. He holds you against his hot body relentlessly, often pressing his chin into the side of your neck and breathing down your side. he kisses you without hesitation and goes wild even your return his affections. He is selfish during these moments and can hold you for hours on end, content just to be with someone who loves him. 

[wordfires]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast Characters: Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast Series: Part 2 of Essek Week 2021

the day two prompt for essek week was hiding // venom which i did mostly do but i dont control what happens when i write. in any case another thanks to @essek-week for putting this all together

feel free to read on ao3 or here!

Essek really was not adjusted to adventuring. The Aeorian ruins had revealed yet another secret in the form of fungus. There was the deadly frigid woe that had kept him especially wary of any spore-adjacent things to begin with, then the heat-seeking mold, and now this. He felt his pulse pound in his head and winced, taking a breath and peeling his eyes open.

His vision was blurry and his muscles ached, but he had enough of his wits about him and enough sight to check and recheck any visible veins, making sure for the last time it wasn’t frigid woe. 

It wasn’t, but he almost wished it was, at least then perhaps Caduceus or Jester could find some direction to cure whatever ailed him. He knew it was spore related⁠— he remembered them coming across a strange cavern, covered half in ice but even the cold couldn’t kill the strange mushrooms covering most of the remaining space. They had carefully been making a path avoiding the mushrooms as much as they could based on a hunch Caduceus had about what they were. He didn’t quite know what happened but somehow a cloud of spores had been released, and the next thing he knew was the Mighty Nein quickly crowding around him and pulling him into a tower of some sort.

Essek, now that the initial delirium seemed to have abated, expected that the tower was of Caleb’s conjuring. He just wished he could properly appreciate it and look for all the careful details the other wizard had likely put in, rather than being stuck in the room of dark purples and silver accents he couldn’t fully process.

“Essek?” He opened his eyes, not realizing they had closed again. He shifted, trying to turn towards the voice but only succeeding in hissing through his teeth as pain shot up his neck. “Nein, ah scheisse, be careful-” Piercing blue eyes met his own and he felt what he recognized as Caleb’s hand on his forearm. “We have a solution, potentially, but it will have to wait until the morning. I-” he paused, looking away and furrowing his brow as he massaged his face with his other hand, seemingly searching for words. “I will stay here. To keep watch on your condition. Jester and Caduceus need rest, and so does everyone else.”

Essek tried to respond, but violent coughs erupted from his throat, yanking him into a sitting position that pulled at his muscles. Caleb was silent but as the fit faded, he pressed a warm cup into Essek’s hands, equally warm fingers briefly brushing his and leaving a faint tingling sensation in their wake.

“Caduceus made this before he went to rest, he said it’s an old family cure.”

Essek carefully sipped at it, sighing as what was presumably tea soothed his throat. He met Caleb’s eyes. They seemed to be the only thing his vision could catch on without blurring.

“Caleb-” Essek cleared his throat, but only managed to set off another coughing fit.

“Shh, don’t stress yourself, friend.” Caleb let Essek take another sip before squeezing his forearm and gently taking the cup from his hands, quietly setting it on what must have been a bedside table. “Just try to rest, I’ll be right here.” Their eyes met again, and Essek thought he managed to nod but whatever pain the movement caused was numbed as the air hummed between them.

Caleb looked away, moving behind him before gesturing for Essek to lie down. He found himself almost sitting, pillows piled up behind him.

“My mother taught me this trick when I got sick as a child,” Caleb mumbled almost to himself as he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, pulling a book off the bedside table into his lap. “She said it was good for the lungs. I never really figured out if that was true but…” the other wizard trailed off, pursing his lips before opening the book he had grabbed. “In any case, I am just going to read, but I am here if you need me.”

As Caleb fell silent, Essek couldn’t help the ache that gripped his chest, knowing that it had nothing to do with whatever sickness the spores were causing.

It was his guilt at every problem he had caused the Mighty Nein, so ready to call him friend when he had already betrayed them. It was the fact that he was causing yet another problem, holding them up in their venture to stop this thing that could very well end the known world. It was the sleep and rest Caleb clearly needed that Essek was taking from him. It was the way Caleb’s hair caught the light and the unnatural warmth of his skin that left Essek chilled after his touch, the way that his reverse figuring of a spell he had only seen Essek do had made his heart catch in his throat before he could register the threat using it in the Empire posed.

It was some time and most of the tea later when Essek felt he could finally speak again. He felt his heart twang again, looking with clearer vision at Caleb’s focus on his book. He couldn’t see well enough to get the book’s title, but he could tell that this was a moment of relaxation Caleb desperately needed, even if the tense set of his shoulders made it clear that he was far from relaxed.

“Caleb,” the wizard looked up, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “Thank you. For staying. I appreciate it, greatly.” Essek’s voice was hoarse, but he found it better than silence filled with only his thoughts. 

Caleb smiled softly, “You are part of the Mighty Nein, it is what we do.”

It was silent again, the air only filled with the quiet turn of pages.

“You know,” Essek huffed softly, not quite sure if the delirium had truly left him as he continued, “you once said I was not born with venom in my veins, but I certainly have put it there.”

“Essek-”

“I betrayed you before I even knew you, and now you sit at my sickbed while I am holding you up from what is quite possibly the most important thing any of us have ever done. I am trying to change, I am, but it feels as if the time I have to do so is slipping through my fingers. My own actions made me run from Rosohna and put me here, sick with some plant’s venom. And my own.” He kept his eyes down, only half sure Caleb was hearing words and not sickness-addled nonsense.

“Essek,” and there was Caleb’s hand at his forearm again, pulling a sharp inhale of surprise as Essek’s eyes jumped to meet his. “You have time, my friend, and you are not alone in this.” Essek watched as Caleb’s gaze left his, eyes seeming to search the air for the words he was looking for. “We- I am here with you. I will always be here with you and trust me, I know, change is not instant. I know you are trying, Essek, and I see what I have seen in myself.” Caleb’s hand found Esseks’ cheek, and Essek realized he was looking up into his eyes, though he hadn’t noticed when the wizard had stood up. “You have time, I promise.” Caleb pressed a kiss to Essek’s forehead, and Essek felt his breath hitch again. “Besides, you inhaled those spores, so it’s not venom, it’s poison.”

Essek let himself grin as his eyes fell closed again, “You’re ruining my metaphor, Widogast.”

“Alright, Thelyss, but you and your metaphor need rest.” Essek could hear the smile in Caleb’s voice, letting it soothe the tugging at his heart, if only for now.

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 10

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623756834957885440/the-long-way-around-chapter-9

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 1208

Warnings: None

Y/n’s POV

I find Jasper in his bedroom, sitting comfortably on the couch, looking pensive and like he’s not at all focusing on the book in his hands.

“Can I come in?”

He smiles softly, nervously, and moves his legs so I can sit. I feel awkward closing the door behind me, but I know it will at least do something to help keep the other vampires in the house from hearing our discussion. I can tell Jasper wants to ask about my conversation with Carlisle, but politeness prohibits him to do so. I bite back a smile at this man unlike any other.

I take my time walking to the couch, doing my best to chill out. “Did Emmett catch up to you?”

Jasper rolls his eyes, grinning good-naturedly. “Of course. He likes to tease.”

I chuckle, sitting in the empty spot. “Gotta love Emmett.” There’s a slight pause, and in that pause, I get the courage to start the conversation I came up here to have. I put us both out of our misery and force the words out. “I asked Carlisle about helping me get better with my self control.”

Jasper furrows his eyebrows, but I continue before he can protest that I’m doing well or ask questions.

“I would’ve asked you, but,” I sigh, my insecurities and sadness coming to the surface. Of course, he notices. I definitely don’t want to hurt him with my words; that’s not the goal here at all. I just want to be honest with him. So I am. “I just felt so inferior and weak compared to you.” I can’t look at him. I play with my fingers at look anywhere but his face as I continue. “And it’s nothing you did, you’re just so much better than me and I-” I sigh, running out of words as I try this whole ‘communicating and being vulnerable’ thing everybody’s raving about.

Slowly, Jasper slides over and puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I lay my head on his chest, the movement automatic. I sigh again. It feels so good to be held by him like this.

“Did Carlisle tell you about how bad I struggled? How bad I still struggle?”

I nod, my head clouded with his scent and proximity. “Yes. It made me feel a bit more normal, not gonna lie.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Good.” Then, his tone becomes serious.

“Y/n, I am deeply ashamed of my past. Right from the start, I made horrific, shameful choices that in no way reflect the man I wish to be today. For a large portion of my life, I killed people for a living. And even after I broke free from that, I still preyed on innocent humans and took their lives. Day, after day, after day.”

I don’t have to be an empath to feel his pain. It hits deep in my gut, and I wish very badly to be able to take that pain away, to bring him comfort. I reach a hand up to cup his face and lightly stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. Miraculously, he leans into my touch and closes his eyes.

He continues. “And even since turning my life around, I suffer everyday. Rightly so.” I disagree so strongly and open my mouth to protest, but he speaks before I can, pulling my hand off his face and gripping it tightly in his. He opens his eyes. “But I swear to do everything in my power to keep you from suffering as I do. I’m intense about this because I’ve made the mistakes and I know the consequences. And you are so good, so wonderful…” He shakes his head, staring deeply into my eyes. “Your suffering would break me. And I will be here as long as you allow me to be to support and encourage and help you.”

If I were human, I’d be a puddle of tears. His confession, as well as the feelings behind them, leaves me speechless. So kind, so loving are his words to me. And I can see he means them. I desperately hope he can feel my gratitude, my adoration. I’m very glad for his ability, which allows him to know my true feelings when I cannot speak.

But that also means he can feel my desire. And since he knows, and makes no move to discourage me, I contemplate taking the leap. My insecurities from before have been assuaged and his devotion to me is apparent. I want my devotion to him to be equally plain.

Plus, I really, really want to kiss him.

So I do.

Slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop me, I straighten, and press my lips to his.

His response is immediate and for that, I am very grateful. He places a hand beneath my chin and uses a single finger to pull me closer to him. Thank you, vampire strength. I allow my hands to leave his shoulders and tangle in his hair. His own find my waist. My desire makes my head swim, and I can’t imagine what he’s feeling, having to bear both of ours. He dips to place kisses on my neck, and all thoughts leave me. I gasp, tightening my grip in his hair. Jasper pauses, leaning his nose against my neck as he takes steadying breaths.

A serene smile breaks over my face as I use my hold on his hair to bring his head to mine so he’s looking at me. He wears the lopsided smile I love.

“I don’t think best friends are supposed to kiss each other.”

He barks a laugh and pulls me into his lap, giving me the opportunity to throw my arms around his neck. “Might I inquire about your interest in revisiting the nature of our relationship?”

Now it’s my turn to snort, leaning my head back before pressing my forehead against his. “If you’re asking me out, the answer’s yes.” His eyes brighten, and I can feel his joy mingling with mine. “On one condition.”

He nods, instantly serious.

I grin, a laugh already fighting to break free. “You have to tell Emmett.”

Jasper groans and lays his head on my shoulder a split millisecond before the door to his room bursts in. I jump, and Jasper’s grip on me tightens, but instead of a vicious vampire intent on murdering us, it’s Emmett.

Based on Emmett’s expression, I would’ve preferred the murderous vampire.

Emmett grins widely, a suggestive look taking over his face. “Oh, Emmett already knows.”

Jasper is up in a flash, and I slide onto the couch, crossing my legs as I watch the wrestling match that immediately ensues. Emmett’s stronger, but Jasper’s just better. He quickly bests Emmett and tosses him out of the room with an unrestrained laugh. Shutting the door firmly, he leans against the frame and turns to me, grinning impishly.

“I believe I’ve completed my end of the bargain, ma’am. Now,” he saunters over to me. If I had a working heart, it would be beating erratically. He leans over me, trapping me on the couch. “I propose we resume our previous activities.”

He receives no objections from me.

A/n :)))))) (that’s my huge smile because they’re finally together). Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list! 

xx, 

Bjr

Link to the next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/624109035977949184/the-long-way-around-chapter-11

Tag list (also hi I love you all and appreciate you so much) : @puer-de-infinitate @chrliestuff @hindustani-diaspora @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

*jhs / hanahaki! au/ 🌙☆

*4.5k written 

Summary: Hoseok desperately wants to continue your guy’s friendship despite his girlfriend Soo-min hating you. What he doesn’t know though is that even just being friends will kill you.

A/N: After much consideration what started off as a one-shot then two-shot, shall now have three parts. Thank you everyone for your patience. I appreciate all the support given to me.

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White orchids spill from your mouth as you heave into the toilet only to miss. A minute passes before you collapse onto the cold tile floor of your restroom. Your eyes stare blankly at the white mocking flowers splattered with blood. How fitting for the product of your disease to be such a rare exotic flower. Most people who suffered from Hanahaki threw up roses or lilies, but you got orchids. It is as life wants to personally point out that your first and only time falling in love with someone is doomed.

Forcing the remnants of blood and flowers back into your throat, you stood up on shaky legs. It was 9:10 am last time you checked, and time you spent throwing up has  fucked up your morning schedule. If you don’t change soon you’d undoubtedly be late to your morning class. “Come on (Y/N), you can do it. No stupid flowers are going to-”

“(Y/N)! Are you ready?” a familiar jovial voice calls out, causing only more flowers to fall from your lips. 

Quickly you slam the door to the restroom shut, locking it for extra measure. Your mind races trying to figure out why the object of your affection Jung Hoseok was here. Sure he used to walk you to class every morning, but only to make his ex-girlfriend Soo-min jealous. Soo-min hated you with a passion. Which is why when Hoseok and her broke up, he thought fake dating you would be the best way to get her back-and it worked. 

For three months you faked a relationship with Seoul University’s  ‘sunshine boy’. At first you felt awkward not being a people person and Hoseok was under the impression that you were some sort of monster. Eventually though you two passed those hurdles. Hoseok broke through your icy barriers, he became your first friend and through him you began to make other friends. Everything went perfectly except for the fact you began to fall for him. 

 It started slow, but you could feel the symptoms progressing each day. His love began thawing the ice around your heart. Then a seed  planted itself in it sprouting leaves that grew like ivy. Soon after flowers escaped your mouth the sure sign of an unrequited love. Your love for him was real. Probably more real than anything Soo-min could give him. However Hoseok felt oppositely hence the Hanaki disease. 

“(Y/N)? Are you in there? “ Hoseok knocks. “It’s kind of late to be getting ready. Did you oversleep?”

“Yeah.” You croak. “I just got up. What …what are you doing here, Hoseok? Didn’t you and Soo-min get back together?”

It’s a question you already know the answer to, but you can’t help not to ask. You need to know for sure, before you make any decisions regarding your Hanahaki, you need to Hoseok got his wish. “….we did, but that doesn’t we can’t still be friends-”

    His answer both hurts and relieves you at the same time.  

“It means exactly that, Sunshine boy. You can’t be friends with me. You can’t even talk to me unless you want Soo-min to hate you.” You say, hardening your heart.

   Hoseok isn’t the type to abandon a friend for girl. Not even if he’s only known them for a few months. Which is why you need to be the bad guy here…for both your sakes. “(Y/N)…” Hoseok says.

     Taking a deep breath you opened the door coming face to face with the cherry haired boy you loved. His dark eyes gaze at you sadness radiating through them. You have a feeling he knows how right you are, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. “We can’t. Being friends with you will only cause pain and trouble for us. Trust me.” you reaffirm.

    Hoseok shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Not for one second. You are my friend whether Soo-min or anyone else wants you to be or not.”

       A vine shoots out at his words coiling tightly around your rib. It takes everything within you not to double over in pain as it bruises muscle and bone. You are so far gone, any sort of relationship with Hoseok will kill you. “What about what I want? What if I don’t want to be friends anymore? What if I am tired of dealing with you and everyone else?’ You snap uncontrollably. “I don’t want to do it, Hoseok. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Alright?! “

   Hoseok doubles back a crushed look on his face. “Alright. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone then.”

   “It is.”  You say looking away . You can’t handle the expression on his face. It hurts more than anything the Hanahaki does to you. A ray of sunshine like him should never be anything less than shining, especially not at the expense of an ice queen like you. 

    Later that night you receive a visit from Yoongi, Hoseok’s best friend/fraternity brother and the only other person who knows about your disease. The blonde haired boy arrives with an assortment of medicines, books, and pamphlets revolving around Hanahaki. It’s a sight that makes you both laugh and cry at the same time. “I heard you broke up with Hobi.” Yoongi says as he enters your dorm.

    You snort, shaking your head. “We weren’t really dating to begin with, so how can we break up?”

    “He looks awful. Almost as if you murdered his whole family in front of him.”  Yoongi mentions. “Seriously I’ve never seen him so upset. Not even when Soo-min broke up with him.”

      You look down ashamed. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but I-”

  “You had to.” Yoongi finishes knowingly. It’s only been a few days since you revealed to him your secret, but already Yoongi could see the damage done to you by this disease. You are paler than normal, skinnier too with dark circles under your eyes.  Your lips are chapped and your hair lost whatever shine used to be there. Overall you look like shit and Yoongi feels so fucking guilty for not noticing sooner. 

     “He’ll kill me.” You whisper sadly. “Just by being around me, this plant will grow and strangle me to death. It’s not fair-especially for Hoseok, who didn’t even ask for my affection.  So I have to stay away for both our sake.”

    It sucks, but you don’t doubt sunshine boy will bounce back. You’re merely another side note in his novel of a life after all. “Have you decided what to do yet?” Yoongi asks, looking over the pamphlets. “They have tablets that are supposed to reduce hanahaki growth, but they aren’t a permanent solution.”

     “There are only two solutions to hanahaki disease: death and surgery.” Tears well up at the thought. Neither option is preferably, especially since you know first hand the consequences behind them.

        “I hope you aren’t seriously thinking about death. I mean I get that you love Hobi, but it’s only a feeling. It’s not worth your life.” Yoongi says, his dark eyes pinning you with a look. “Besides it’s not like you two can’t be friends afterwards.” 

   Your lips curl into a bitter smile at his words. Memories of a vacant stare and careless question of ‘who are you?’ flash before your eyes. Yoongi’s naivety is not his fault. The horrors behind hanahaki surgery are such that even doctors belittle its effects. After all who wants to hear that the person they loved will be forever erased from their memories?

     And  like that night three days ago you confide in Yoongi about your horrible truth. “Hey Yoongi…have you seen someone go through hanahaki surgery?”

      Three hours later Yoongi stumbles home wanting to throw up. Your words play like a never ending loop in his head gripping tightly to his heart. ‘My parents suffered through Hanahaki disease when I was little. My mother died from it and my father forgot everything.”

  His knees buckle as he steps inside the frat house. For once it is silent. No one up playing video games in the living room, no loud music blasting, or groups of people conversing simply silence, something Yoongi can’t tell if he’s grateful for or not. On one hand he could use the distraction-the noise to blare out your tearful story, whereas on the other hand Yoongi’s glad no one is around to see him like this. 

    “Fuck.” he whispers to no one. “Fuck. Fuck..Fuuuuccck.”

He’s haunted by the calm expression on your face as you whispered. ‘Everyone thought my parents had a happy marriage. After all, my father loved my mother and she always smiled but I guess not all smiles equal happiness…my mother loved someone else. Who? No one knows. She never gave any indication of fancy someone other than my father. No one knew until I found her propped up against the toilet, roses sprouting from her lips like some macabre painting.“

  Seven. Seven fucking years old when you found your mother dead, yet you spoke as if she simply gotten a cold. If he didn’t know any better Yoongi would’ve thought you to be soulless. However the orchids clamouring out of your own body only proves  how much of a heart you did have. “Hey, man is everything alright?” Hoseok’s voice comes, as he steps into view.

    He’s dressed in his normal sleepwear, a white t-shirt and boxers cladded in cartoon birds. His hair is disheveled which normally meant he was sleeping, if not for the purple bruises decorating his neck. Anger flashes through Yoongi at the sight. Soo-min must be over, that fucking bitch. “Fine. Sorry for waking you up.” 

     “I wasn’t really sleeping.” Hoseok shrugs.

“I’ve noticed.” Yoongi says dryly. Logically the blonde knows it unfair to be mad at his friend. It isn’t Hobi’s fault you fell in love with him. Nor his fault that he loved Soo-min…but Yoongi can’t help himself-especially since Soo-min  replaced you. (You might’ve gotten over her bullying you, but Yoongi hadn’t.)

     “Ah yeah, Soo-min got a little wild. She’s never been this possessive before.” Hoseok laughed. “If making her jealous is all I got to do for sex like that, I’ll have to do it more often.”

   Yoongi didn’t even bother faking a smile. Hoseok already knew how much he and the rest of the guys hated Soo-min. “Whatever you say, just keep it down okay? I have a math test tomorrow.”

     Hoseok nods. “Of course. Sleep tight Yoongs! Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

 “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” Yoongi grumbles, walking away. Hoseok’s laugh echoes down the hall as Yoongi heads to his room. It is not until he falls back onto his soft bed that Yoongi allows the final tidbit of your confession to play.

  ‘Forget. That’s what the surgery makes you do. It doesn’t only erase emotions of love, it erases all memories pertaining to it as well. When my father returned from his surgery the first thing he said to me was, ‘who’s kid is this?”

  Forget or die, two shitty options for someone who already had it shitty. Yoongi closes his eyes thumbing the pair of keys belonging to a certain roommate of his. Slowly he slips the key covered in mickey mouse prints off. There isn’t much he can do to help you make your decision,  but perhaps Yoongi can make life a little easier for you. 

      A week passes from that day and Hoseok can’t ignore the gnawing feeling that something is wrong. He knows your guy’s friendship has ended, but the cherry haired boy can’t keep his distance. Not when every cell in his body screams for him to fix this somehow. 

      After three months of fake dating you somehow became a permanent fixture in his life.  He misses teasing you about your bad breakfast choices, or forcing you to eat an actual meal instead of coffee for lunch. He misses the way you listened to him, barely muttering more than ‘uh huh, ok, yeah’; it always seemed like you weren’t listening until you surprised him with a question or comment. 

   Hoseok just misses you period.

Which is why he decided to give your friendship one more shot. Surely if he misses you this much you feel the same. Memories of your callous words from a week ago come to mind tormenting his fear, suddenly Hoseok feels like he can’t breathe. You said he annoyed you, that you were tired of him, but that was just because you were scared of losing him to Soo-min? Once you see how genuine he is, you two will go back to being friends. 

     "I don’t want your stupid apple. I’ve already eaten. ” Hoseok perks up at the sound of your voice. He’s been sitting on the steps of the language building for the past half hour waiting for you. Your name dances on the tip of his tongue. Eagerly he opens his mouth to call out to you but freezes  at the sight of a familiar blonde walking beside you. 

      "A gogurt and a cup of coffee doesn’t count as lunch, dumb ass. Now eat the apple, it’ll help you from getting sick. “ Yoongi says, shoving the red fruit into your hands.  

     Something within Hoseok twists, he finds himself nearly doubling over in pain. A dark ember burns in his stomach, suddenly Hoseok wants nothing more than to punch Yoongi. "She hates apples. ” Hoseok can’t help but inform. “It’s her least favorite fruit. ”

   Both you and Yoongi jerk surprised by his presence. As if on instinct Yoongi steps forward blocking your view from him,  it causes Hoseok’s blood to boil more. “Hey Hobi, waiting for Soo-min?” Yoongi asks nonchalantly. 

     Hoseok bit his cheek suddenly remembering Soo-min has a class right before yours. The two of you share the same major meaning your schedules often coincided. He walked you to class everyday just to show off your “relationship." 

       "Something like that." 

    "Cool. See you at home I guess.” Yoongi nods, pulling you with him towards the door. You barely even glance up at Hoseok as you’re led away. 

    Again something twists violently in the pit of his stomach and the question, 'are you guys together,’ slips through his teeth before Hoseok can stop. The two of you freeze, Yoongi’s fingers tightening around your wrist. Suddenly Hoseok doesn’t want to know the answer.

     "Something like that. “ Yoongi replies, dragging you into the building. 

    Three weeks go by since your 'break up’ with Hobi, and ironically, you find yourself in another fake relationship this time with Yoongi. Unlike your previous pseudo-relationship this one contains nothing more platonic love. There are no fake dates or pet names. Yoongi doesn’t treat you like some girl he’s in love with. Instead he forces broth and anti-growth pills down your throat only to hold your hair back when white petals flow back up from it. He shields you from Hoseok,  Soo-min and the judgemental glances of the world, protecting you from harm. No, Min Yoongi is a god send, but you aren’t in love with him. 

    Sometimes you wish you were though. Loving Yoongi sounds easier than loving Hoseok, but that could simply be wishful thinking. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are two different elements. Hoseok is the warm sun melting away all your defenses, while Yooongi is a winter’s breeze offering relief from the sun’s rays while fortifying your protection. "So the date has been set. A week from now I’ll have the surgery and this will all be over. ” you announce, ignoring the painful ache in your chest 

    The idea of forgetting Hoseok scares you. You don’t want to forget him or the way he’s made you feel. As selfish as it sounds Hoseok is the first person to show you affection in years. Your family basically ostracized you after they discovered your father’s amnesia. While he could learn to love you again the possibility of him remembering your mother ran too high. So instead you lived as his niece with an aunt and uncle who despised you, because you looked like your mother. 

     Yoongi nods, glancing over at the calendar. He can’t help but frown at the date circled in red. “I know this is the only viable solution, but I feel like I should ask you if this is what you really want?”

   "No, but I don’t want to die either.“ You say softly. "As much as I want to hold onto these feelings of love, they don’t really belong to me, you know? Hoseok loves Soo-min. They’re her feelings not mine. ”

    Yoongi’s frowns. “Soo-min only loves herself. You know it,  I know it, and deep down Hobi does too.”

  "Maybe but it doesn’t change a thing.“ You murmur, eyeing the date. Your grip tightens around the mug you hold.  You don’t want to admit but you’re scared; scared of waking up the exact person you were before Hoseok: cold, intruding and alone. 

  Yoongi shoots a knowing glance. "Something else bugs you, doesn’t it? ”

   You take a sip of your tea. “ Don’t worry. It’s stupid stuff. " 

    It’s three days before your surgery that you see Hoseok for the first time in a month. Logically you know you should avoid him even if the appointment is less than forty-eight hours away. However you find yourself staying at the coffee shop, eyes unlocking from the cherry haired boy.  'Just one more glance.’ You assure yourself. 'Something to carry with me onto the operating table that’s all I want. ’

     But it’s more than one glance it’s several long stares, watching as the boy talks animatedly amongst his friends. He looks so happy right now practically glows like the sun. The sight is so beautiful it causes your heart to bear faster. This is what you wanted to see. Hoseok happy and carefree even if it is without you. 

   You smile, ignoring the painful pulse your heart gives when the Hanahaki’s vine squeezes around it. This is how things are meant to be. Hoseok deserves a life filled with equally bright people. He deserves happiness in every form. You aren’t.

     A content sigh escapes you. You swore to Yoongi, you accepted the surgery with no regrets, but that was all a lie. Seeing Hoseok like this though, so free and unaffected by your absence, you can finally let go of the little doubt holding you back. 

    "Order for (Y/N)!” The barista calls out sliding your drink across the counter. 

  You cringe at how loud they are; internally hoping that Hoseok hadn’t heard your name.  Seeing him from afar is dangerous enough, if you actually interacted with him…  You push the thought out of your head, quickly exiting the cafe, completely unaware of the eyes following you. 

   "You okay man? You’ve been staring at the barista an awful lot. “ 

    Hoseok blinks, tearing his gaze away from where you stood. The moment you walked into the cafe Hoseok could only focus on  you. It is like everything else disappeared except for you.  "Yeah I’m fine. " 

"You sure? Because if you like the dude that much, I can get you his number. ” Another, Jo Kwon teases. “Though I think Soo-min would kill both of us- wait! Isn’t that (Y/N) up there? Didn’t you two used to date before you and Soo-min got back together?”

     Hoseok nods barely listening. His focus once again on you, this time watching you leave. Neither Dino or Jo Kwon knew about the dumb deal or how sweet Seoul University’s Ice Queen really was.  While they are good friends, they were nowhere near close enough for Hoseok to feel comfortable sharing his secret. 

  "Gotta say you must’ve been really off your rocker, Hoseok. Dating such a scary girl. “ Dino snorts. 

   "Seriously, I heard (Y/N) got arrested for murdering her parents, but since she was a kid no one believed she did it.” Jo Kwon says. “You know someone should warn Yoongi-hyungnim about her. They’re together now aren’t they?”

    "Something like that…" Hoseok mutters. His chest burns at the mention of Yoongi and you.  While you refuse to even look his way, you have no qualms hanging on Yoongi’s every word and move. It is like Yoongi’s the sun and you’re the earth orbiting around him- it pisses Hoseok to no end and he can’t explain why. 

   "Maybe he just figured she’s an easy lay. I mean a girl like her is probably desperate for attention. She’s probably spreading her legs for anyone who looks at her-“ Hoseok’s fist hits Dino’s face before either one can process what is happening.

  The younger boy falls to the ground with a loud crash, causing everyone to stare at them. "What the fuck man!? You just hit me. ” Dino sputters wide eyed. 

    "And I’ll do it again if I ever hear either of you talk about (Y/N) like that again.“  Hoseok threatens. The anger within him is uncontrollable. He can’t explain it. Especially when it is not only Dino and Jo Kwon who pisses him off, but Yoongi too. Just the mere sight of the blonde sickened him nowadays. 

   "You’re crazy man. She’s a freak and she made you one too!” Jo Kwon says.

  Luckily, all it takes is a warning look to have them scrambling out of the coffee shop. “Assholes.” Hoseok mutters, ignoring the still plentiful stares at him. He reaches for his coffee only to pause when his stomach turns suddenly. Annoyed Hoseok pushes the cup away. He must be getting sick.

   Word of the fight spreads across the campus like wildfire. Fury does not explain the anger Soo-min feels when she hears about her boyfriend’s outburst. In all the years she dated Hoseok never once did he get offended for her sake. Boys literally listed off her body count at parties and Hoseok merely shrugged asking Soo-min. 'why does it matter when everyone knows you’re mine?“

    Mine. The claim used to send shivers down Soo-min’s spine. Yes, she was his. Just like how she owned him. They were meant to be no matter how many times they broke up. It didn’t matter if Soo-min decided to date around a little, because Hoseok would wait for her.  

   At least so she thought until one day Hoseok ended up on the arm of her biggest enemy. Originally Soo-min assumed he simply wanted her jealous- a clever ploy really, after all wherever she went you two appeared. Three weeks later though, you started wearing Hoseok’s hoodies. After that Beta-Tau-Sigma invited you to their house, a privilege which took Soo-min months to achieve, but the real straw to the camel’s back happened when Hoseok threatened her. 

   The cherry haired boy who cared little about gossip finally spoke out against it and not for her sake.  In that moment Soo-min realized the relationship between Hoseok and you ran deeper than she assumed. For the first time in her life,  Soo-min felt threatened in Hoseok’s and her relationship. So she ended it.

   With a bat of the eyelashes and the purse of her lips, Soo-min took back what was hers. Once again Hoseok and her were together while you cried your ugly heart out. Everything went back to normal. Except it didn’t. 

     Hoseok refused to leave you alone. He was determined to have some sort of relationship with you, despite now being with her. Not even you dating his own best friend stopped Hoseok’s unsettling obsession with you. 

   "I don’t expect you to understand, but (Y/N) is someone special to me. I can’t just let her go. ” he told her one night. 

  He was right. Soo-min didn’t understand. Nor did she want to. What Soo-min wants is you gone.  “(Y/N) (L/N), you fucking slut! Stay away from my boyfriend!” She hollers, charging after you. 

    You stare at her confused. The sight spurs her rage more so. How dare you act clueless! As if you don’t know what you are doing? She pushes past the throng of students cornering you against a tree. It’s just her no posse unlike last time. Not that Soo-min needs one to kick your ass.

   Since elementary school, she has worked to put you in your place. The only difference now is the strange attachment Min Yoongi has towards you. Last time he stopped her from teaching you a well deserved lesson. Today however he won’t be able to save you.  “I’m not in the mood Soo-min. ” you mutter, walking around her. 

    She grabs onto your hair yanking it. A small gasp escapes you as you tumble onto the ground. “Well I am. So you are going to listen to me and listen real good you got it?”

       "Fucking psycho. “ you spit.

   Her hands twist, tightening the pull on your hair. You reach up trying to pull away, but Soo-min’s stronger.  "Me? Psycho? No no you’re the heartless ice queen here. You might’ve tricked Hoseok and everyone else into thinking you’re some innocent little girl, but you and I know the truth. You are unlovable.”

     You let out a loud laugh surprising her. “Again with that hanahaki shit? You and our family have been holding that over my head for fifteen years.  My father’s disease wasn’t my fault. Nor was it my mother’s. ”

  Taking Soo-min off guard, your right leg sweeps back, knocking her off balance. She loses grip on your hair allowing you to push back. You stand towering over her. “Love is an uncontrollable force. You can’t choose who you love. Just like you can’t choose who loves you back.”

    Soo-min snorts. “What do you know about love? Your mother chose to love over her daughter, and your father chose life over you too. Meanwhile Hoseok only used you to get me back. He never loved you and he never will-”

    A small cough breaks through her rant. One tiny hiccup like cough that normally would go overlooked if not for a single orchid petal escaping your lips. She freezes eyes locked on the white petal. 

     "You…“  She hardly managed to say the word when you turn tails running. 

     Her body moves on its own chasing after you. She doesn’t want to admit it. Doesn’t want to acknowledge it but Soo-min’s scared. As much as she hates you, you are still her cousin. It doesn’t take long for her to catch up to you. Out of the two of you, she’s always been the more athletic one. Moreover thanks to the disease, you hardly make it  a few feet before heaving a basket of flowers up. 

    Soo-min stares at the blood soaked plants in horror. Full stems. You are throwing up whole plants. "You are dying. ”

     The words come out more blatantly then she intends, but you snort nonetheless. “Yeah, I am. Don’t celebrate yet though. I’m getting the surgery.”

       "You. You are in love.“ She continues speechless. 'But how? I mean who? Is it Hoseok?”

    "Yoongi.“ You correct quickly. "I’m in love with Yoongi. He ah he doesn’t love me though. He loves someone else so we broke up.”

   "Oh.“ Her throat tightens around the word. For the first time ever Soo-min does not know how to react. Deep inside she wants to reach out, comfort you, scream at Min Yoongi until she’s blue however she can’t. Not only does Soo-min know you won’t accept it, but there’s still something within that holds onto her parents’ prejudice 

     "Does he know?” Soo-min asks. 

You shake your head. “No. Nor does he need to. In two days this will all be a forgotten memory.” 

     Soo-min frowns. Her heart squeezes pain at the thought. It’s funny she’s always wanted to see you suffer, but not like this. Despite being little during your parents’ illness Soo-min remembers clearly everything that happened. From the hole your mother cut through you and your father’s heart to her uncle’s empty expression after the surgery. More than anything she remembers her warm fun loving cousin falling into herself. The person who was once her best friend suddenly distanced herself from everyone including Soo-min.

    It is a memory that stirs up something within Soo-min, she hasn’t felt in a long time…: guilt.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Baby talk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 13 | Part 14 Baby talk | Part 15 >

Disclaimer: reference to doing the naughty 🤭

Author’s note: Since I’m both on a wild writing spree and quite terrible at fixing my own grammatical errors / checking on word flow..do I maybe, just maybe, have some fic-readers on here who’d like to proof read my material before I post it? Anyone? There’s some 10-ish chapters left on this story, in case you wish to know how much work that’d be. Greetings from my writing nook! 🤓❤️

Word count: 1.349

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

It is a time of many new beginnings, including the start of a search for a place of my own.

“Why move?” You may due-fully ask, to which I’ll answer; “Well, I need some darn privacy, okay?!”

Now, please do know that I definitely do not wish to nag. In fact my current living arrangement isn’t half as bad as I first presumed it would be. My parents are adorable people and my room hadn’t changed a bit since I left; and it sure is comfortable. Besides, it’s rather nice to have family around and be in a house full with life and laughter, the kitchen always smelling of freshly baked cakes and cookies, the living room buzzing with my dad’s classic rock.

But, being 37 and having a decent paying job and cares and wishes of my own, it simply is time for me to spread my wings and rebuild a life elsewhere. Which, once again, appears to be more difficult than I wished it to be, because apparently nice apartments are sparse on the Channel Islands.

Do you want more than a tiny shack which barely fits your bed and a dining table for four? Then you better have a fat check book or a whole lotta luck.

So yes, in my case; luck it is. Would you cross some fingers for me again?

Much appreciated,

Ali

‘Ooodoo-doo-doo.’ I cooed, squishing Kal’s furry cheeks between my grabby hands, the dog happily wagging his tail as Henry took the moment to clip a leash onto the Akita’s sturdy collar.

‘Going for a walk!’ Henry yelled into the back of the house, his parents probably enjoying some elevenses on the back porch, the grand seaside house quiet. Henry shrugged as no response came, his smiling face beaming at me. ‘Alright then, let’s go.’

Kal barked in excitement, jumping on all fours as I pulled open the front door, the morning breeze welcoming us with hot restless licks. Like it had become near custom, I would hook my hand around Henry’s arm, our footfalls perfectly in tune as we walked down the road, our eyes aimlessly wandering over the silver blue waves. It was nice like this. Simple, but nice.

‘Did you tell your parents about your plans to move yet?’ Henry asked, his voice near lost in the seaside wind that slapped us in the face - the beach was getting nearer.

‘Not really. You know how my mom is; she can get a bit overdramatic.’ I smiled, seeing the beach was quite busy this morning. Many children running cheerfully through the surf of the sea, their feet followed by equally cheerful women waddling with large, rounded bellies, promising even more to come. More children. More happy feet trailing through the wet sand.

Thankfully I wasn’t alone in my quiet stares, Henry squeezing my hand even closer to his chest, offering me a silent but affirmative; “I know, Ali, I can see it too.”

I sighed quietly and tugged on Henry’s arm, leading us down the sandy dunes until we reached a wood logged path, offering us some steady footing instead of having to work our way through the muggy sand. 

Kal happily sniffed around, making our pace far slower as we waited up for the dog every other step or so. ‘So how are you today?’ I asked, looking at Henry as he focused on Kal sniffing through some long dune grass. He clicked his tongue when the dog got a little over-excited, his nose digging into the plant. ‘Okay for now. Though not really looking forward to picking up travelling again. I mean. There’s some fun bits, but it’s also nice to be out here with…’ His voice trailed off as he looked at me with large loving eyes, the rest of his words unspoken. He smiled simply, satisfaction clear on his shaved cheeks.

‘I’ll miss having you around.’ I smiled, far less satisfied and more worried. Would this be the end of our little fling-thing again?

‘I don’t want this to end Ali.’ He said, halting us both and looking into my eyes, trusting Kal wouldn’t be digging up dirty diapers for this one important moment. ‘As much as I appreciate you telling me you’ll miss me..I don’t want that to be necessary. I hate it. And I’ll do anything in my power to prevent this from going south again. We’ve had enough practise now. Let’s..’ He licked his lips, locking hopeful eyes with mine. ‘..let’s make it work this time.’

—

Warm, strong fingers wrapped around mine, the doctor peering at us from over the tip of her glasses, her curious eyes studying Henry perhaps just a bit too much. Sure, it was not everyday that this superstar sinks down in your chair, because he and his ..eh..partner..want to learn about planned parenthood at a later age.

I had been rather quiet through-out the visit, having heard most of the info before, but Henry seemed to be more than a little prepared, asking a gazillion questions. He had been most excited when I had hesitantly proposed he could join me and now here we were. Once again in this tiny doctor’s office, the desk before us filled with leaflets and my notebook which Henry now eagerly used to jot down points we still needed to research.

We. Us. Me and him.

The very idea seemed so very surreal, that I was growing increasingly worried that we were in fact just continuing to build this crazy fantasy. Sure, we might be a good sexual fit. Sure, we were good at talking. Sure, we had quite a few shared hobbies and enjoyed the same things, wanted the same things. But what we didn’t have just yet was time together. And that is where I got a little anxious. I was not made for long distance relationships. I needed physicality, I needed HIM. And no matter what he’d do, it was more than likely that distance would come in between us.

But that was a concern for another moment.

Now we were here to talk babies. BABIES! Kids. Pups. Off-spring. Mini-me’s. And maybe, very maybe, mini-Henry’s. But we were yet to come to a decision on that. First we wanted to know all available options and discuss it thoroughly. We were together for one and a half month now. That was..nothing. That was…

His fingers squeezed more tightly around mine and I looked up, meeting those deep, warm ceruleans of his. ‘Looks like we have plenty to work through.’ He said, his voice surprisingly dark..almost..husky. Was he ..eh..aroused? I blinked for a moment, then quickly steered my attention back towards the doctor, who didn’t seem to miss the subtle hints that he sent my way. She raised a careful, slightly amused eyebrow, trying her best to keep a professional look on her face.

‘Yea..thanks again Doctor.’ I nodded, making sure we’d get out of there before he’d decide to ravish me right there on that tiny desk.

—

By the time we got to his parents place there was no time left for formalities - and how glad I was that his parents were out to visit some of their friends on that particular moment. We barely made it to the couch, our desperate hands tugging on clothes, lips firing heated kisses, no words or actual talk managing to get past our lips. 

It was more than a little apparent, that of all things that we were good at doing together, THIS was definitely one of them. As practised as our morning walks on the beach, so practised were our fingers as they dragged over hot, shivering skin, aching to be touched. 

‘We really need to..talk.’ I panted, feeling his hot breath in my neck, his five-a-clock shadow rubbing deliciously on my skin. ‘L-l.’ Henry groaned. ‘..Later.’ He rumbled, already digging down his pocket for a condom. 

Now there was one and simple conclusion to be made here: of all things that could get Henry hot and bothered, family planning MOST DEFINITELY was one of them.

--

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[thebookofus-depravity]

Skinny Bone Jones Ch 2

Part 2 of the very fluffy very lovely first chapter. This ones got some smut oops. Jae and Y/N negotiate their new relationship and their life after the coronavirus. Epilogue included! 

TW: Some smut, Jae’s hands appreciation, soft!dom Jae, not gonna say this is totally wish fulfillment but its definitely totally wish fulfillment.

12K words- again, oops.

Chapter 2 Skinny Bone Jones

What do I want?!

The question that had been plaguing you for the past 14 hours continues like a storm siren in your tired, tired brain. You had spent your night overthinking as usual, and to no avail. After hours of pontification and soul searching and snacks you were no closer to unpacking all that had occurred last night. Now it was 1pm and you found yourself draped across the ratty armchair in the corner of the living room beleaguering your existence.

You had done what you always do after taking a risk. You collapsed into yourself and told yourself all of the reasons why it was a dumb idea and couldn't possibly work and you didn't deserve it and why didn't you just play it safe? Thoroughly convinced of Jae's seething animosity for you, you had raided both the freezer and the liquor cabinet and here you were 3 hours in, sad and covered in death by chocolate.  Your parents had found you at 7am and you made some feeble excuse about not feeling well. I mean, you didn’t feel well. But that’s besides the point. Your mom and dad brought you back to your room to shower and go to  bed and then went to the store to open, your mom promising kimchi jiggae to help with your apparent sickness. 

Your phone dangled from your fingertips, 1 missed call, 5 new messages. Skinny Bone Jones. What was I thinking? I can’t go back to the store. I can’t look him in the face. He probably thinks I’m so dumb. How can I work with him now? He can keep the store. It’s his now. He can keep mom and dad too. They’d rather have a successful kid anyway. I’ll flee the country. Alright no, that one is dumb. 

I kissed  him. 

I kissed a boy. 

Man. Man-boy. Kid. Guy. 

How am I supposed to know what I want when I still think like a 14 year old girl?! It’s just a kiss. No big deal. Friends kiss all the time. Consenting adult friends can do whatever they want. We just kissed. This doesn’t have to change anything. 

As much as you went back and forth trying to convince yourself that it was no big deal, you simply couldn't. You weren't inexperienced. You had your fair share of boyfriends, a few friends with benefits, even a very disappointing one night stand. Intellectually, you knew this was nothing. But the other half of you acknowledged and was terrified of exactly how much Jae means to you. How much that kiss communicated.

You knew deep down that everything had already changed. The moment you saw him in a different light than the fluorescents of your high school or the flood lights of the stage, everything had changed. You began dreaming of seeing him in every imaginable light. Kitchen light filtered through windows, candlelight, the weak watery light of a stormy day. You wanted to see every day with him. And that scared you. Even scarier than the idea of Jae turning you down was the idea of him agreeing. 

Jae lived a crazy life and for him to include you in it would be both an honor and a liability. The last thing you want to do is jeopardize his career or anger his fans. He has so many people cheering for him, why would he need you? Jae is so good. Charming, sweet, kind, wise, a fucking rockstar. Why would he want a washed up childhood friend when he has the whole world welcoming him with open arms? Those arms. You can’t stop remembering just how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms. 

But what if he wants this as much as I do? You kissed him. He kissed you. Both occurred, you suppose. But what if it was just a kiss? If you come barrelling through with your icky, gooey, messy emotions and ruin a simple lovely thing, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

Regardless of outcome, it was time to at least get out of your head and face that Jae was trying to get a hold of you. You had ignored the call and the messages in your dread of first contact. Swiping open your phone, you contend with the messages first. I can deal with this. Past tense Jae. What did he have to say? 

Skinny Bone Jones: Hey, Y/N, do me a favor and don’t eat breakfast before you come in tomorrow, okay? I have a surprise for you. :) 

Fuck.

Skinny Bone Jones: You come in at 7, right?

You glance at the corner of your phone and your heart sinks: 1:37. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Your mom and dad just got here. They told me you’re sick. Are you okay? 

I mean now you feel a little queasy. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Look, Y/N, if this is about last night, you don’t have to worry about it. It won’t happen again. I should’ve asked.

Skinny Bone Jones: I’m sorry. 

Seconds later you find yourself sprinting down the sidewalk in house slippers and pajamas, your pride and your robe billowing out behind you. 

He meant it. He really meant it. You feel a little sick when you realize that Jae only took the job to spend time with you- what if he left?

Head empty, you throw open the door of the store and cast your eyes around, desperate to fall on him. Please be here. Don't leave. 

You find your mom staring up at you from behind the ledger book, "Y/N, what's the matter?"

"Mom, where's Jae?" You run behind the counter to the kitchen and your dad is there skimming stock, but no Jae. 

Fuck. 

You feel a bit of yourself shatter as you realize he's gone. Sure you can text him, sure he lives down the street. But you left him and then he left you. That's just as simple. How are you going to explain to him that you were just scared? Will he forgive you? You turn to walk back to the house, bathrobe belt dragging on the floor. 

"Y/N-ah, are you okay? You look pale." Your dad wipes his hands on his apron and presses his hand to your forehead.

"You're warm." your dad worries

"Of course she's warm, she must've run here, look at her." your mom, adds, more to the room than to anyone in particular.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" the third voice pulls you from your reverie and you whip around to see Jae, back door closing behind him as he tugs a trash can back in.

"Jae!" You run to him and wrap yourself around him, joy flooding through you. After a split second of relief you recoil as you notice that he is most definitely not returning your embrace. You take a step back and become very interested in the grout between the tiles as your heart sinks back into your stomach. Suddenly you feel his hand in yours and he is pulling you into him and he kisses you. The kiss is deep and yearning and conveys everything that has gone unsaid between the two of you these past years. I love you's and Thank you's and I miss you's that had been left unvoiced. For a split second your mind goes fuzzy and everything else slips away. You can't hear, see, feel, or even imagine anything other than the man in front of you and it feels so right. You can practically hear applause. You do hear applause. 

"Yah! I knew it! I knew it! I knew you'd finally do it, my stupid daughter!" You break your embrace and Jae straightens up. The both of you stiffen as you realize exactly what just happened. You kissed in front of your parents. In their store. 

Jae, your dad, and yourself are all staring at one another with mixed looks of unease and hilarity while your mom is practically jumping up and down and clapping with excitement. She stops and waits with bated breath to see what will happen next between the two of you, almost as if expecting some happy announcement already. The pregnant silence is deafening and you can feel a persistent blush creep up your neck.

"I-I smell like trash." Jae says numbly, gesturing slightly at the trash bag at his feet.

"So does she, she's been drinking since 4am." your dad delivers deadpan.

The quiet is broken by a cacophany of laughter and defensive yelling. 

A few minutes later, upon lining the trash can with a new bag, you are ushered out of the kitchen by your mom with cries of ‘Go! Go sit! Go talk!’. Slightly awkwardly you both ‘go’, walking into the dining area of the restaurant and out into the street. There is quite a lot of physical distance between the two of you, an equal fissure of nervous energy the only thing uniting you. Your eyes are focused squarely on the sidewalk in front of you as you walk side by side. 

“So…” Jae starts.

“So?”

“So what’s up?” There is a bit of tension in his voice, a tell of fear that you can’t stand. I made that happen to him. I’m sorry. You felt awful for making him wait. For making him question whether you would be there or not. For making him second guess himself for even a second. You sneak a glance at him and accidentally meet his eyes. 

“I made you pancakes-”

“I love you-”

You stop both your statements and feet in their tracks and face one another.

“You what?” You question in unison. There is silence for a beat before Jae forges forward, striding forward and laughing slightly as he continues:

“Yeah, I uh- I made you pancakes. For breakfast. I thought you might like them. But you never came in so I just- I mean, your parents had some. There’s a few left over if you want any. I kept them warm in the oven just in case you changed your mind.”

“I...I would love to eat your pancakes.”

Again, you both fall silent as I would love to eat your pancakes echoes through both of your skulls, delivered with the intensity of a love confession- effectively fracturing any serious thought that ever found itself at home. Your chest feels light and your head rushing and lightheaded, it feels like you could float away. I would love to eat your pancakes. What the fuck. An asthmatic chuckle escapes you and soon enough you’re both sitting in the grass next to the sidewalk holding your sides at the hilarity of the situation. Two grown ass adults. Almost pained in its relief, your laughter dispels all of the tension that you had been holding in an almost manic form. He likes you. And you like him. And God, you made this so much harder than it had to be. 

When the two of you are well and truly spent you sit up. You find yourself closer to Jae than you remember. Your head is by his shoulder, and you let your cheek rest against him. 

“So pancakes-” you begin

“I love you too.”

Now you really do think you’ll float away. You realize all at once that you’re very hung over and very tired and not at all lucid but it doesn’t matter. The cute boy down the street loves you. Your best friend loves you. You press your forehead to his and you both just sit, his arms wrapped around you. He still smells like cinnamon and home and what a wonderful home he is. 

“So we’re… together now?” You ask tentatively

“Baby, you ask that as if you have no choice in the matter.” Jae laughs

Your face warms at his use of the well-loved pet name. 

“If you want all this, it’s yours.” He quirks a brow upward at you and you laugh. Secretly, you’re incredibly thankful that he’s not making a big deal out of this. You love him. And you’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not this intensely. But the intensity with which you felt scared you. Of course it was exciting and beautiful and made your heart well up like it was about to run over, but you didn’t want anything running over just yet. That’s messy. To love someone is to take a risk, handing them your heart and asking them not to break it. Past relationships hadn’t been so kind. 

This felt like the chapter of a new book. No, not a new book.  A very old book. One that you’ve had on the shelf for ages but hadn’t picked up in a while. As soon as you opened it back up you remembered every footnote and the sound of the pages turning and the smell of the paper and every twist and turn of the plot that gave you so much familiarity and light. Of course, it was a book read in a new context but the same book through and through. 

“I love you.”

“You already said that one, Y/N.”

“Shut up, you little shit, I love you.”

“I know you love me. That’s not a question.” you slap at Jae’s chest and his shoulders shake in response.

“The question now is if you want to be my girlfriend.”

You lean into him and press a soft kiss to his lips. You can feel him smiling against you. 

“So that’s a yes? I’m unconvinced.”

Your left hand slips up his chest and neck to wrap into the soft hair at the back of his neck. You pull him deeper into the kiss and his hand rests on your side. After both of your chests’ are robbed of breath and your heart rates skyrocket, you break the embrace. His lips are so rosy and full and God, they felt so good against yours. You can’t help but take his slightly ajar bottom lip between your teeth and tug gently. Finally satisfied that your point has been cemented, you retreat. Jae stares at you, a look of equal parts incredulity and awe on his now slightly reddened features. 

“Mmm, okay. Very convincing, I’ll concede it. But who the hell taught you how to do that?” You giggle a bit and hop up off of the grass. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

He fumbles after you, “Oh-oh I worry!”

You attempt to finish your shift in the restaurant but your mom very quickly ushers both you and Jae out of the kitchen. 

“Your dad and I can handle this. Go home. There’s kimchi jiggae on the stove. Go home. Feel better. Jaehyung will make sure you’re taken care of, yah Jaehyung?”

“Of course Mrs.Y/L/N. I’ll take care of her.”

It isn’t until you get to your house that you realize that you’re half asleep. You stumble over the welcome mat and Jae catches you. You insist that you’re fine but he supports you all the way to the couch. 

“I just got my girlfriend, you expect me to let her bust her face on hard wood floor in the first fifteen minutes? Now where’s the soup, we need to get you fed.”

10 minutes later you’re fed, hydrated, medicated, and chastised for the empty soju bottles on the floor. 

Didn’t I teach you how to drink better than that? Come on now.

He leads you to where he knows your room to be, but you stop at the door. You feel like a teenager.  A little girl with a boy coming over for the first time. This time you didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to hide all of the stuffies and the journals and the embarrassing things you didn’t want him to see. Fuck, the poster. You inwardly groan before steeling yourself: you’re a grown woman. You’re just living in a child’s bedroom. It’s not your fault.

“Look my bedroom is a nightmare, it’s exactly how I left it when I was 15. You can’t judge me for this.”

“Oh, I can and I will.”

Pushing open your door, you feel your face go red as Jae whistles lowly. 

“Damn, you weren’t kidding.”

You busy yourself with picking up stray laundry and tidying while Jae takes in the majesty of the silly bands collections, the friendship bracelet loom, the boy band memorabilia. 

“I clocked you as more of a Nick girl.”

“I don’t know, Kevin he- he’s something.”

“All this stuff and not a single Day6 poster?”

“Jae, Day6 didn’t even exist when I lived here!”

“I know, I just have to give you a hard time.” Jae pauses, “If I give you a poster of me, would you replace Kevin?”

“I would replace dear old Kevin with a poster of JYP.”

“That’s a much better idea!” Jae latches onto the idea with a stubborn fierceness.

After much discussion, largely consisting of “You really wanna fuck in front of your CEO?” You both agreed that all posters would have to come down before you rendezvoused. 

Jae tucks you into bed with a kiss on the forehead before leaving you to sleep. He ensures your phone is plugged in, there’s water on the table, and ibuprofen in your system before closing your bedroom door behind him. 

And sleep you do for the next 8 hours. Your dreams are littered with images of 100 watt smiles and soft kisses and banana pancakes. When you finally do wake from your slumber you feel as well rested as you have in weeks. You stretch with a yawn and grope around for your phone. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Hey baby :)

Skinny Bone Jones: hope you’re sleeping well.

Skinny Bone Jones: Good morning beautiful, I love you.

Skinny Bone Jones: I’ve been wanting to text you that for years and now I finally can :) 

You melt a bit and have to physically restrain yourself from kicking your legs like an excited little girl. 

Y/N- Good morning :) 

Y/N- I love you. 

You flick through Instagram, Twitter, tumblr before realizing with a jolt of satisfaction that you can delete your tinder! 

Seconds after disabling your account and deleting your account, Jae messages you back.

Skinny Bone Jones- You better.

You almost drop your phone, thinking your boyfriend has some omniscient knowledge of the goings on of your dating app history. Reading back, you remember what was said and smile. 

Y/N- So what do you wanna do today?

Skinny Bone Jones- idk have you taken down those posters yet? ;)

Y/N- No XD

Skinny Bone Jones- Haha okay, how about spending the day at the store? I’m sure your mom and dad could use the help. We did both just dip yesterday.

Y/N- Sounds good to me! Meet you there in half an hour?

Skinny Bone Jones- You’re on. 

20 minutes later, you’re pulling off the third top that you’ve tried in frustration at both your wardrobe and your adolescent behavior. It’s work. I’m going to work. With my boyfriend. It’s not a bad thing to want to look cute. You finally settle on a pair of shorts and a halter top before grabbing your phone and heading to the store. 

You’re greeted by a frenzy of activity. Your mom is yelling over the phone (something about dumplings), your dad is kneading noodle dough as if it threatened his life, and even Jae is busying himself filling mandu. When your mom finally looks up, she hangs up the phone with not so much as a goodbye. 

“Yah! Y/N-ah, hurry! We’ve got work to do!”

You throw on an apron before following your mother to the butcher block. 

“We had an order called in this morning for catering a party. Min Jung unnie’s birthday. Apparently they’re having a social distancing party. They need 50 people’s worth of bulgogi, ssam, banchan, and mandu. By 3pm.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll handle the pickling.”

The four of you work in silence chipping away at the order and filling styrofoam take-away boxes. By 2:30 you’re finished with everything, just waiting on the japchae. Loaded into the car with all of the needed accoutrement, your mom and dad bid you a farewell. Instructions of ‘take care of the store’ and ‘if you need anything, call” echo from the interior of the car as they back out of the driveway. 

You watch them disappear down the road with a huge smile on your face. You were tired and starving but so proud of the work that had been done. You had watched your mom and dad start this business from scratch and it reminded you of the first catering gig they had ever received so many years ago. The joy of the work and the honest paycheck was something that they had taught you, as well as their love for food. Now the shop was a local institution and until the coronavirus, there had been no fear for their business. As much as you denied any fear to Jae, you had been concerned by the lack of orders the store had been receiving. Not to mention the thinly veiled racist threats that you had been fielding on the shops’ yelp and Facebook pages. 

“This is so good for them. They’re getting business and even catering gigs again. I’m so proud of them.” 

“You should be, love.” Jae appears behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“What’s going to happen to the store when your parents get too old to work like this?” Jae asks, tone full of polite curiosity, as he walks you to the table where your lunch sits.

You pick up a set of chopsticks and sigh “I don’t know, Jae.”

“I mean we have some time to think about that before we have to deal with it. Generally their kids would continue the business but I just can’t. It’d be a waste. I spent so much time and money working on premed and, I mean, I have to find residencies soon.”

You run a hand through your hair as you lift a dumpling to your mouth. The tension melts away as the pastry yields in your mouth. Mmm. That’s what it’s all about. 

“You know you could, right?” Jae asks through a  mouth full of japchae. 

“I could what?”

“You could do it. Take over the store. You’d be brilliant at it. You’re an amazing cook, but even better than that, you know how to run a business. You’re organized and have an eye for design and publicity. You could make it so much more if you chose. It wouldn’t be a waste either. Nothing you love is ever a waste.”

“No, Jae I couldn’t-“ you begin.

“Hey. You don’t have to either. I’m just saying you shouldn’t limit yourself. There’s no right way to do anything and no right path to your career. That’s all I’m saying. You don’t have to make any decisions right now anyway. Like, you’ve said, you’ve got time.”

You eat in silence, casting your eyes around the kitchen with Jae eating and humming to himself softly. You see the counter that you used to sit on and watch your parents work. You see the walk in freezer that you used to hide in when you threatened to run away from home. Through the order window you see the polymer tables that you spent every day of middle school wiping down for spending money. This was home more than your house was. It’s where you learned how to work, how to cook. It’s where you learned Korean, watched your mom and dad make friends and regulars. You loved it here. The idea of it belonging to someone else made your stomach turn.

“But my parents started this restaurant to give me the opportunity not to have to work in a restaurant. They wanted to feed my ambition. They’ve made it very clear, they want me to make something of myself.”

“What is that something, babe? I think they would be proud of you regardless of what you chose to do with your life. Doctor, chef, stripper, you’re their daughter. And they love you.”

“Okay, stripper might be off the table but…”

“But you love to cook.”

“I do.”

“Just give it some thought, Y/N. It’s an idea.”

“I will, Jae. Thank you. I’ve been thinking about my future a lot lately and I really don’t know if I’m meant to be a doctor. I kind of hate it. But I’ve been doing it since I’ve been 15. I’ve been researching myself a lot. Getting reacquainted with who I am instead of who I’ve been told I should be.”

“And I can’t wait to get to know her better and better. I love you, Y/N, whoever you end up being.”

Jae is staring at you with so much affection that you think you might combust. 

You stuff a dumpling in your mouth in an attempt to hide the huge smile that threatens to take over your face. 

Jae tucks into his food as well, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like motherfuckin cutie to himself. 

You finish eating and wash dishes in companionable silence, chatting here and there, humming along to the Bluetooth speaker that has been conveniently set to play only Day6. Finished with the dishes and the nights orders, you sweep the floor of the kitchen and realize you’ve run out of chores to do. What with the closing of the dining room, there is less to do when you close. 

You get a text from mom saying “We’ll be back in maybe an hour. Is everything okay there?”

You assure her that everything is perfectly fine and that you’ll be here when they get back. Jae, sitting on a stool, pulls you back into him by the waist in order to see the message. You’re all but sitting in his lap with his head resting on your shoulder when he smirks, “So we’ve got an hour?”

“...Hypothetically.” You feel his lips against your neck and shiver. 

“Yah, Jae.” He immediately stops and turns you to face him. 

“Yes?” His face is serious but not grim. He is ready to listen to you. You’ve never been with someone with so much respect for you. That was sad but also beautiful. Jae was already showing you exactly how you deserved to be treated. 

“We don’t have to do anything, you know babe? I’m just picking. I’m perfectly fine just sitting with you.”

“No, Jae. I want this. I want you. I’m not exactly shy about it, love. And I’m not exactly an innocent little girl. It’s just, with you, I feel like it’s going to be different. I love you. And we have so much history. I just want to do this right, yknow?”

“I understand baby. Let’s make it that way.” Jae takes your hand and pulls you into him. “As much as I’d love to do awful things to you while you’re bent over that bar, I think I can restrain myself.” He jokes. “I have for this long. You’re special and I want to show you that.”

“Thank you, Jae.” You whisper up at him. 

“No need to thank me baby. It’s the bare minimum. If I ever treat you any differently, you’re gonna have to slap me.”

“Yes sir.” You flash him your best innocent eyes.

“Oh, now don’t you start with that shit, doll. Don’t test me.” There’s laughter in his voice but also a bit of steel that you weren’t expecting. Noted.

You lean in and give him a chaste peck on the lips. The kiss deepens as Jae pulls you in. Your arms wind around his neck and your fingers tug through his silky blonde hair. His hands rests on the back of your neck and on your lower back. He pulls you in impossibly closer as his tongue swipes past your lips. While pulling you closer, his leg slips between yours and you let out an entirely involuntary moan when his thigh connects with your center. Your hips buck of their own accord and you bury your face in Jae’s neck. You feel Jae’s hand on your neck and he pulls you back slightly to where you’re face to face. 

“Damn, baby. You sound really pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

You whine and try everything in your power to avoid eye contact with him. Tugging slightly on your hair, your gaze rises to meet his. You can see Jae’s eyes following the deep pink flush that blooms in your chest. 

“You gotta tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” 

“Please don’t stop, Jae.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but damn you never imagined this persona would come out of him. You quite appreciated it.

“That’s what I like to hear, baby girl.”

All of a sudden you hear the front door swing open and the murmur of your mom and dads voices. You jump back from Jae and do your damndest to collect yourself as your parents carry their catering equipment into the kitchen. Jae stands bolt upright and takes the box from your mother, insisting that she sit and he take care of it. The sexual tension dissipates from your body but the idea of Jae in that particular light couldn’t be wiped from your mind. That and the stern reminder branded into your brain to never trust your moms projected arrival times ever again.

The night continues and soon enough you have returned to your regularly scheduled attempt at sleep for the night. You had been texting off and on with Jae all evening after parting ways at the shop and you couldn’t be happier. You talked a bit more about your ideas for the store and if you really could make it your career. You talked about the presales of Demon and how excited he was for the comeback. He missed his fans terribly and he knew they missed him too. Eventually conversation turned back around to the almost disastrous incident earlier today. 

Skinny Bone Jones: I can’t believe they almost walked in on us. 

Y/N: Look, it was your fault! 

Skinny Bone Jones: My fault? How is it my fault that you were falling apart on my leg? I didn’t even touch you. 

Skinny Bone Jones: If anything, I should be the one contacting HR for sexual harassment.

Y/N: Good luck with that, I am HR.

Y/N: And it’s your fault I was falling apart anyway. Making my heart go all BoomBoom.mp3 and shit. Rude.

Skinny Bone Jones: Well, I’m glad I can have that effect on you babygirl. 

The persistent heat in your stomach was growing and the use of your favorite pet name wasn’t doing anything to help. 

Y/N: Jaaaeeee

Skinny Bone Jones: yeah, Y/N? Do you like it when I call you babygirl?

Skinny Bone Jones: Come on now, use your words. 

Y/N: Yes.

Skinny Bone Jones: Good girl.

Fuck.

How the hell did he know exactly how to tear you apart like this?

Skinny Bone Jones: I can't wait to get you alone, baby. We’re gonna have so much fun. 

 Y/N: I can’t wait. 

That much was true. You couldn’t wait. And you weren’t planning on it. If he wasn’t going to get over here and give you what you needed you would take matters into your own hands. Your fingers are occupied, running along your hips and chest when Jae texts you back. 

Skinny Bone Jones: Can’t you? I hope you’re not having too much fun without me. 

How does he do that?

Y/N: And what if I am? 

Skinny Bone Jones: Well then I think I’d say that I’d feel a little left out of the party. And what a pretty little party too. 

Skinny Bone Jones: But the party will have to continue later, sweetheart. Sungjin is calling me for a promo meeting and I’ve got to go. 

Skinny Bone Jones: I love you.

Y/N: I love you too, Jae. 

You’re a bit disappointed by the unresolved ache between your legs but you push the thought to the side. He’s busy. We’ll have plenty of time. You let the tension ebb out of your body for the second time that day and settle in to try and sleep. Besides, you just got together. For you to act like a sexed up crazy lady begging for him within days of you officially dating seemed a little absurd. No need to come across as desperate. Jae’s words echo back in your head ‘you sound so pretty when you’re desperate for me, baby.’ You huff and roll over on your side, trying to forget about the quality in his eyes when he stared down at you. Like he was seeing simultaneously the cutest and sexiest person he’d ever seen in his life. How unfair. 

You swipe open your phone to see new messages from Jae. You open the first one and promptly drop your phone on your face. 

It’s an image of Jae’s sweatpants clad lap. Specifically, the large bulge in aforementioned sweatpants. His free hand is against his thigh and in your sleep glazed mind you can imagine clear as day what it would look like for him to slowly wrap his hand around his half-hard dick through his pants. Fuck.

Skinny Bone Jones: See what you do to me? I have to go to my zoom meeting like this. You’re to blame for this babygirl, and believe me when I tell you I’m going to make you responsible for it. 

An inhuman noise escapes you as you read and reread his message. Yup he said that. 

You end up falling asleep with an ache between your thighs and your phone in your hand, waiting for his meeting to end. When you finally drifted off to sleep your dreams were littered with increasingly explicit images of Jae. The pretty noises he would make, how his collarbone and chest would look covered in pretty little red and purple bruises, his pretty hands on you. You wake up sweaty and needy and altogether unsatisfied. Rolling over, you reach for your phone and squint at the numbers illuminated there. 7am. Excellent.

Y/N: Good morning, Jae. My panties are suing.

Skinny Bone Jones: Well good morning to you too. Talk to my lawyer. 

And so life goes for the next few weeks. You see Jae at the store every few days and make sure to go on your daily walks together. It’s really such a lovely time of togetherness. You invest yourself in the business, working hard to prove yourself capable before bringing the idea up to mom or dad. You had already rebranded the entire graphic design layout, updated the website, replied to every yelp review, ordered new signage, and resealed the vinyl tabletops before your parents started asking you about the residencies. You told them, very cautiously, about your ideas for the store and how you really loved the work. You loved to cook. You loved to manage. And you loved this store more than anything. You wanted to make it a legacy for years to come: not just a fleeting blip on a culinary map but an institution where families make memories for decades to come. 

They were hesitant at first, questioning where these ideas were coming from and why you would abandon your medical training. Over the course of a few days you slowly watched them turn, not so much with their words but their actions. Your mom began asking your opinion on things and giving you more freedom to manage and make decisions. By the end of the week your dad burst in the store with a huge smile on his face and a very large, very heavy looking box. 

“Y/N-ah, come here! Look what I got!”

You and your mom emerge from the kitchen to see your father ripping open the box and producing a sharp black shirt that says “Y/L/N’s Mandu: a family business” on it.

“I got shirts for catering! To look more professional!”

And so he did. He was beaming at you with pride and excitement and you knew this was as good as it gets. They may never say it themselves, but you could tell that they were so happy and proud to have you as part of the business. Yes, they would have to explain to the neighbors  how their valedictorian daughter had left the medical field to chase her dreams. But did they care? I mean a little. But they finally made the decision to care more about their daughters' well being than the opinion of others. You watched that shift in their behavior and as proud as they were of you, you were so proud of them as well. 

You had donned your new catering shirt while en route to meet Jae for your walk. He greeted you with the customary big hug and kiss on the forehead before asking how things were going with your parents. He had been following the situation closely and encouraging you the whole way but didn’t want to interfere. You give him a spin to show off your new catering shirt and he claps with joy. 

“That’s amazing babe! I’m so happy for you!” He pulls you into a massive bear hug, picking you up slightly and spinning you around. Once the world stops spinning he’s planting a kiss on your lips. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Jae.”

You continue your walk around the neighborhood, hand in hand. You had discussed the issues of privacy and PDA in relation to him being an idol but he brushed it off. Jae insisted that you were safe in the neighborhood. Everyone in your block of houses knew about Jae and Day6 but also about your relationship. You grew up with these people- all of them. The majority of them were now very old and unbothered by the goings on of a local KPop star and his childhood friend. If you left the neighborhood you would have to be more careful but for now, he insisted all was well.

As you walked you discussed the changing attitudes of your parents, your tweaks to the menu, and your deluge of thinly veiled patronizing messages from med school ‘friends’. Jae engages well in conversation but every time you question him about his day, he becomes non committal. This has been worsening over the week at seemingly an inverse rate to your own positivity. 

“Jae, what’s up? Are you okay? You’ve been kinda quiet the past few days. About Day6 stuff, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just stressed out, baby. I’ll be okay. This happens before every comeback. I start overthinking every little thing. Usually I have Brian and Sungjin to knock me out of it. Self doubt and creative isolation don’t really mix real well, yknow?”

“Mmm, I can understand that. I’m sorry baby, I had no idea. You know you can talk to me about that stuff right? I mean I’m no lyricist, but I know you. And I know how hard you can be on yourself. But better than anybody, I know how talented you are.”

“I know, Y/N. And thank you. I need the reminder sometimes that I have support. For a while all I really had was the guys, so they’re the default of who I turn to-“

“As you should.”

“-but you’re you. And you’ve been here since the beginning and watched me grow and I forget that I still have that. Sometimes I feel like I’m just weighing you down or worrying you needlessly with something you’re not a part of. I forget that you are a part of this process. You’ve been here from the beginning and you’re where it all started.”

You continue walking hand in hand until you reach your front door once more. Jae raises a hand to cup your face and kisses you on the forehead. 

“I love you, Y/N. Thanks for being you.”

“I don’t know how to be anything different, but thank you. I love you too, Jae. My superstar.”

Jae smiles at that and kisses you again, deeply this time, and your world spins once more.

You say goodbye and head for your door before Jae grabs your hand and you turn around.

“Oh, babe! I forgot to tell you! Mom and dad want you to come over on Sunday for lunch if you’re up for it!”

“Oh, of course, Jae! I’d be happy to!”

The week drags on and you look forward to dinner, you truly do. But it’s a nervous excitement that floods through you whenever you think of it. You know his parents well and you’ve always gotten along, but you’ve never been dating their son before. You were worried this, and your career change, would put a target on your back. You had also never progressed in a relationship to a point where you had ‘met the parents’. Regardless of having met Mr and Mrs Park countless times before, this felt different: bigger.

You, of course, had no reason to worry. You went to socially distant church and then back to Sunday lunch with his family and were surprised by how at home you felt. You grew up in that house so of course it was familiar. Every play date, snack time, study session, had been held in this dining room so you knew it well. It just felt a little different now that you were with Jae… yknow, in the biblical sense. Of course, you hadn’t actually been with Jae yet, something you were being reminded of far too frequently by your touch starved brain. The hand resting on your thigh beneath the table wasn’t doing anything to assuage that feeling. 

You enjoyed a stellar meal and sat and talked with his family for a while. His older sister was doing well and had stopped in just briefly to see her mom and dad for the first time since the quarantine. She coyly mentioned how pleased she was that you were together and told you to keep him in line for her. She was the only one to mention your new relationship, Jae’s mom and dad content with simply catching up and exchanging niceties. It’s entirely pleasant but you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. A discussion to be had. Something. It never comes. Just small talk and support and bright smiles. How odd. 

It’s around 4 or 5pm when Mr and Mrs Park announce that they’ll be leaving for a date.

You didn’t think we’d spend the whole day on this did you? We have the first socially distant reservation at that place downtown. You know, the one with the napkins and the crab? Oh! And the drive-in is open finally as well, we’re going to the double feature just like we did in high school, isn’t that right, darling? You’re the one that wanted to have lunch so bad Jaehyung, you clean up.  

Jaes ears go a bit pink when his mom lets slip how hard he pushed for this lunch. Judging by the way he is returning your questioning looks, Jae is as shocked as you are by his parents sudden departure. Mrs.Park swipes on some lipstick and grabs her purse on the way out before finally landing her gaze on you. She walks toward you and gives you a quick, breezy hug. She smells like sweet pea and the lavender hand lotion that sits next to the sink. You’re at a bit of a loss. I think this was supposed to be a big deal. Should I say something? Mrs. Park sighs and chuckles a bit at your disgruntled demeanor. 

“Look, Y/N, darling, we love you. You’re a sweetheart and we’ve watched you grow up. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re kind, you’re a good girl, your parents are lovely, you’ll make adorable grand babies. More than anything, my son loves you. You never needed our permission or consent or approval, but damned if you don’t have it. Now you two have a great night okay, I’m gonna go eat some lobster and fall asleep in a car.”

And with a nod from his father and a hasty, see you whenever from his mom, the door closes to your twin stunned silence. 

“Um… babe? What just happened?” You ask broadly.

“Well… it looks like my parents like you-”

“So it would seem.”

“-more than me. They like you more than they like me.”

You help Jae clear the dishes and wash up the kitchen and dining area while unpacking the days events. You interrogate him for orchestrating this lunch and he laughs and justifies that he just really wanted you to break the ice with my parents. I mean I spend all day with your parents, doesn’t it just seem fair? You concede and finish stacking the last dish while Jae explains the plethora of threats that his sister ladened him with should he ever wrong you. Drying your hands on a towel, you wrap your arms around Jae and he pulls you close. 

“You know baby, the drive-in is a double feature.” you say, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Mhmm.”

“And it doesn’t start til late.”

“Mhmm.”

“So…” you busy yourself fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater in an attempt to hide your reddening face. Is he going to make you spell it out for him? 

“So you want to go to the drive-in? Is that what you’re saying?” Jae is looking at you far too intently and with just the smuggest look on his face, you can hardly take it. He’s staring down at you as you would a baby trying to say their first words come on you can do it, baby. 

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just- your parents are gonna be gone til like, 1,2am.” 

“You’re gonna have to tell me what you want, Y/N. Use your words.”

You suck in a deep breath and finally sigh out, almost painfully, “do you wanna fuck or not?”

Jae’s demeanor breaks and he laughs, “Well, don’t sound so excited, babe!”

“Look! I’m not used to this! I mean I’m used to sex. But you-this is different. Your attitude is different.”

“Do you not like it?” Jae immediately shifts back into his serious-sans-grim persona to insure that you are fully okay with everything that is happening here. “If you want me to drop the attitude, I’m more than happy to. I want you to feel comfortable and taken care of.”

“No! I-I really like it. It’s just disarming. I’ve never been with someone who actually knows how to do shit before. You have an effect on me. I’ve never been so affected by someone just talking to me. That’s why it’s weird.”

“Aw, babygirl, well I’m glad. And in answer, yes I’d very much like to fuck you. Nothing I’d like more, doll face.”

You giggle at the outdated pet name and preen a bit in the praise. Jae makes you feel so special.

As excited as you are, you suddenly remember that you were not at all expecting this tonight. You try to think of the last time you shaved thoroughly and cast your mind back to this morning with the selection of bra and panties. Hmm. That ain’t gonna work. 

“Great! But first, I’m gonna run over to my house for just a few minutes and freshen up okay? I’ll be back in maybe… 20 minutes?”

“Of course, baby, do what you gotta do.”

You run down the street, shave, moisturize, change into the pink lacy teddy that you may or may not have bought a few weeks ago for this particular purpose, throw some ultimately irrelevant clothes on over it, and run back. 

You slip your shoes off and let yourself in the front door but Jae isn’t in the front room. You look around the kitchen and dining room but the lights are off and he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Jae?” you call out.

“In here!” you hear hollered from a distant corner of the house. He must be in his bedroom. 

You retrace your steps and let your muscle memory guide you through the once familiar halls and up the stairs . You open the door to a bedroom to find Jae standing, lighting a candle on one of his bookshelves. The light is a bit dim from just the sunset through the window and the candlelight but damn does he look good. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower because his hair is wet and his shirt is sticking to him. He puts the lighter down and stretches, his shirt rising and exposing the bottom of his stomach. 

“It’s a good thing you had to run home, gave me time to take down my secret Jonas brothers posters.” 

You’ve never been more in love in your life. 

“You good babe?” Jae questions.

Apparently you had been staring blankly at him for some time now. Oops.

“Yeah, Jae. I’m good. I’m just in love with you.”

“Oh-ho-ho, well aren’t those just the magic words aren’t they?” Jae smiles and reaches his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you in and kisses you softly on the lips, sitting you down next to him on his bed.

“Are you sure you’re ready? I know you wanted this to be special. I didn’t really have time to plan. This isn’t what was supposed to happen-“

“Jae, I shaved for you. And besides, you’re all the special I need.” There’s a slight pause in which Jae looks down at you like he’s discovered solid gold before he clears his throat and continues.

“Well alright then.”

Jae winds his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. You oblige, bidding his tongue eager entrance to your mouth.  His hand wraps around your waist and pulls you in close. This kiss is deep, urgent. You’re both panting by the time the kiss breaks and he presses soft, open mouthed kisses up the column of your neck as he picks at your shirt. His long fingers fiddle with the buttons, getting about half way down your shirt before you get greedy, burrowing under his shirt in turn. His skin is so warm and smooth and soft it’s addicting. You want it on every possible surface of your own skin. You bury your face in his neck as your hands explore his surprisingly toned chest and stomach. You suck on the juncture of his neck and he hisses before finally yanking his shirt off over his head. 

“Next time you ask for what you want, understood, babygirl?”

Your mouth goes dry but your panties are largely ruined. 

“Mhm.” you muster. Jae grabs your chin in his large hand and makes you look at him.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes sir.” you whisper.

“Good girl. Now take off your shirt.”

You strip down to your teddy and panties and sit patiently on the bed. Jae once again laces his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and tugs lightly, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Oh, babygirl, you look so pretty. Such a good little babygirl for me. Can I make you mine? Hmm?”

“Babyyyyy.” you whine.

He bends down and connects his mouth to your neck, sucking harshly on that point just above your collarbone that makes all rational thought disappear. You can tell it’s already bruising and you couldn’t be happier. 

Jae pulls you into his lap, sitting you fully on him and kissing you. You can feel a distinct hardness against your thigh and you can’t help but grind your ass down into his lap. His hands are gripping your ass tightly, kneading slightly but they hold you still when you start to grind into him.

“Tell me what you want baby. You’re already so desperate for my cock, hmm? Is that it? I haven’t even touched you yet, babygirl.”

You look up at Jae, eyes blown wide and lip pouty. You’re frustrated. You need him. He meets your gaze, eyes narrowed solely on you, bite-swollen lips fallen slightly ajar. His hand comes up from your hip to cup your jaw and his thumb traces your buzzing lips. Those pretty hands. You’ve been watching those hands for years and now they were finally on you. Your mouth falls open for him and your lips wrap around his thumb. He’s watching so intently, as if memorizing what you look like when you’re so fucked out for him. You suck on first his thumb then his other fingers before you realize that his other hand is guiding you on his lap, rocking you. You moan around his fingers as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. You whine and he chuckles.

“This is what you wanted, isn't it baby? You wanted to fall apart on top of me? Wanted to feel good? That’s how you’re gonna cum. You’re gonna fall apart on my leg for me. I’m not even gonna touch you. Not yet. You’re gonna earn it. That’s right. Such a good girl. Faster baby.”

If you had any pride, it disintegrated at the feeling that was building between your legs. You rock on his lap, still whining through Jae’s fingers in your mouth. You’re embarrassingly close, and Jae drives you endlessly closer, kneading your ass in time with your rocking motion and finally, just when you can’t take it, he places a sharp slap on your ass cheek that has you seeing white and whining his name, the coil that had been building in you for weeks finally snapping in a beautiful white heat washing over your body.

“Jaeeee! Fuuuckkk.” you whine

“Shhh, I know baby, I know.” He soothes, running his hand over your ass and letting you ride out your high, body shaking. Your forehead is resting on his shoulder as you slowly catch wind back in your lungs. 

“Fuck.”you exclaim weakly.

“No kidding, doll face, ” he chuckles lowly, “I could watch you do that all day. In fact-“ Jae grabs your wrists and pushes you down into the bed so that your back is flush to the bed and your wrists are held above your head. “-I think I will.”

You wake up the next morning bruised and satisfied and so so happy. Jae made pancakes. 

Epilogue

The Governor had lifted retail restrictions in LA and you watched everyone around you explode with excitement at the prospect of getting out of their houses. You felt so odd. You should be excited, and you want to be, honest; but with every new invitation that you get rolling into your DM's from well meaning friends, the less you want to go out. You had built a world during quarantine. You and Jae and your parents and the store and your stupid poster of Kevin Jonas: you had built a home at your house for the first time in years. If you emerged to the outside world now you were scared that it might pop like an iridescent bubble-a dream far too good to be true. 

So you made excuse after excuse as to why you couldn't go out. Sorry love, I have a hair appointment that day. Aww babe, that club is always so full, can't we just stay in? You know I hate that sushi place, but bring me back some boba please! Love you! Now, having weathered through the first weekend after the restrictions lifted from the combined comfort of your own couch and bed, you had thoroughly convinced yourself of your lack of necessity for the outside world.

Your parents were thrilled that you hadn't bolted at the first sign of freedom since they were just getting to know their daughter. You were grateful for their cloying, sweet, hovering. They had never been great at showing their affection but your mom had been the first to  clumsily burst the dam of closeness and positively glowed with pride and love at any given moment. The support was extreme, if a tad excessive. You appreciated the long talks about culinary school and chasing your dreams and her excitement for your goals- but you didn't think applause every time you opened the fridge was really necessary. Your dad too, had been investing time showing you old family recipes and feeding your passion and your appetite. 

Jae, however, was not to be convinced of your apparent new found shrugging off of the outside world. 

"Babe, don't you wanna go do something?" Jae has you in his arms, the both of you curled on the couch watching House MD reruns and critiquing the bad medicine just as you had been for the whole morning. 

"It's beautiful outside. And places are open now, don't you wanna-"

"It's hot." Your tone is far more aggressive than you had intended and you flinch as he unravels himself from you to better address whatever issue he can sense brewing behind your defense. Now you've done it.

"Y/N, we live in LA. Of course it's hot." You sit up on the couch, sighing deeply, before facing him. 

"What's going on babe? Why don't you want to leave the house?" Jae is looking at you with a level of concern that makes your throat a little tight and your chest a little light. Where were you in college? I could've used some looks like that, love. You take a deep breath in and steel yourself for the coming conversation. At the last possible second, you begin fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt and look away from his eyes. He sees too much. 

"It's really no big deal, Jae, I just don't feel like going out."

"Mhmmm. I totally believe that." You look at him and instantly regret it. Shit, why does he have to look at me like that? Like I'm a 3 year old that skinned their knee and now he gets to kiss it better? Unfair.

"Come on, Y/N, you know I'm annoying. I won't drop it." Yes, yes I do.

"Alright, look," you begin. 

"I like it here. The way it is. Exactly the way it is. I've never felt more comfortable and at home and loved in my life. I get to be with people I love with no obligations or timecards or tests or alarms. I get to cook with my dad. Cuddle with my boyfriend. Ignore calls from the student loan collectors. I don't have to think about my past or my future or our future, just the present. I've never been able to do that. And I feel like if we go out, or I go out- that will all be gone. Everything will come rushing back. All the stress and hiding and uncertainty is gonna come back and I'm not ready. I like it here." You don't remember when tears had started to well up behind your eyes but you willed them back down and swallowed your vulnerability. "Besides, don't you want to be careful? What if your fans see us together and freak out? You don't need that."

Jae takes your hand in his and his other hand rests on your jaw, cupping your face and twining in your hair. "Hey-hey-hey, baby." Jae coos softly. "Look at me." He tilts your face up to his and smiles at you slightly. 

"I completely understand. The past 4 weeks have been the best that I've had in a long time. I know you're scared and you don't know what's going to happen next and there's way too much to consider in the coming weeks. You're going to be looking for jobs, meeting new people, seeing old friends that you're scared to disappoint. Not only is it a new world out there, you are a new person. A better person. A happier person. But you've got to trust that your sense of self is going to stick around even when then happiness goes away for a little while. You won't always feel this happy and warm and fulfilled but guess what? That's a good thing. We aren't given grand ideas and hopes and dreams just to think about how nice they'd be. We've got to actually go out there and do them. Which is hard and uncomfortable. But no one ever did anything worth doing without failing a bit." You sigh and sniffle a bit, shuffling slowly into his arms. You bury your face in his chest and just stay there for a minute before letting out a muffled: "I knoooow."

"I  know you know, baby." Jae chuckles and rubs your back, "Do you remember what you told me when I was having a hard time on KPop Star?"

You shake your head no into Jae's chest. 

"Well, you told me that 'Perfection is not an option. Your only option is imperfection. So don't be afraid of failure- embrace it. Try, fail, try again, fail again. Fail Better."

You're quiet for a minute as you let the truth of the statement sink in and assuage some of the rising panic in your chest.

"That wasn't me, that was Samuel Beckett. I just plagiarized it."

"Whatever, nerd, you still told me it."

You finally lift your head from Jae's chest and look him in the eyes. You're a little shocked by just how close your faces are but you persist, "I know, love. You're right. And thank you for reminding me. I just get so scared sometimes. I've taken some really big steps the past few weeks and I'm scared once my training wheels are off and I hit 'the real world' nothing will work out. 

"What is this? A simulation?" Jae laughs but you can tell he knows exactly what you mean.

"Look. I'm real." He punctuates this assertion with a sweet peck on your lips. 

"And this is real." Another kiss.

"And so is this." Another kiss.

He makes his point with one last final kiss that's deeper than the others. You slide further  into his lap to deepen the kiss and he reciprocates. His tongue brushes past your lips and his grip tightens in your hair as a soft moan escapes you. Jae pulls back and smiles a cocky grin at you, in apparent awe of just how fucked out he got you with just a kiss. Embarrassed by your flush and loss of breath, you bury your face in the juncture of Jae's neck. 

"Baaaaaabe are you sure we have to go out?", you whine, grinding your hips down into his lap just enough for him to get the gist. 

"Haha Y/N, no!" Jae laughs a big belly laugh and shifts you off of his lap. 

"I'm not that stupid. You aren't going to cheat me with your feminine wiles."

You return his energy with a giggle and oblige. 

"Let's start off with something simple that you like to do. The thrift store on the south side opened up. Do you want to go take a look?" You perk up a bit at the idea of not only being able to dig through a Goodwill once more to find cute items, but the idea of making your boyfriend try on stupid stuff. 

"Alright, attagirl! Let's go! I'll buy you anything you want in celebration of not having to wear those terrible scrubs ever again."

"Oooh, I've got myself a sugar daddy?"

"As long as we're going to Goodwill, sure! I don't mind giving up a bit of my lobster money for a pretty little lady." Jae's chest puffs out with some sick pride and you mentally note to yourself to find the most expensive thing in the store.

"Alright, let's go!"

You struggle to find parking in the congested area and you remind yourself to refrain from any PDA. You and Jae are friends in public. On the short walk to the Goodwill, Jae grabs your hand and you jump a bit. 

"Shouldn't we be-"

"No. No we shouldn't be." Jae looks at you sideways, hand still wrapping yours. 

"MyDay are chill. They've told me time and time again that they just want to see me happy. And guess what? Right now, if they can see me? I'm happy. There's nothing in my contract restricting dating and the team all knows anyway. We have nothing to hide."

"The team? Who..who exactly is 'the team', Jae?"

Jae goes a little red as if he's said too much.

"Y'know just...JYP" You stop dead in your tracks.

"JYP?! As in, the company? Or as in, Park Jin-young?!"

"....Yes."

"JAE! I thought you were just gonna tell YoungK and Sungjin and the members!"

"Yeah well... we have a group chat and I got a little excited. I wanted to tell everybody." The hilarity of the situation takes you over as you imagine what the contents of a group chat involving the CEO of a major company, and 5 crackheads may entail. You are caught in a laughing fit that nearly takes you down but Jae is just relieved to see that you're not upset. 

"I mean it's not like I'm ever gonna meet the man.", you validate.

"...Well."

Luckily you're at the doors of the Goodwill and are able to effectively quiet him via face mask before he can ruin your life further.  

FEEDBACK IS MY LOVE LANGUAGE :)

[fallinnflower]

better late

jacob x reader (angst to fluff, bad boy!au, non-idol!au)

a/n: i got a request for bad boy jacob. i think i deviated a little from that, but i hope it’s still angsty enough for you!

You’ve pretty much always been in love with Jacob.

You first met Jacob through your childhood best friend, Geumhyuk, who had taken the Chinese student under his wing almost as soon as he had arrived on campus. Jacob was extremely shy when you first met him — the opposite of you and Geumhyuk, but in the most endearing way. You had very limited knowledge of Chinese, but you tried your best to communicate with Jacob that way until he was more comfortable with his Korean; at some point, actually, you established a mutually beneficial relationship teaching each other the two languages.

It was probably then that your crush on Jacob became serious. You’d always thought he was cute, and anyone who was a friend of Geumhyuk’s was pretty much automatically a good guy (to be perfectly honest, your mom had been pushing for you to marry him since the two of you were teenagers, and objectively you could see why — but ew, he was like your brother!) in your book. He seemed a little brooding at first, sure, but once you cracked open Jacob’s shell he turned out to be a total softie. Your heart was positively melted.

And because you weren’t really shy about your feelings, Jacob was one of the first to know of that fact. In fact, it was during one of your unofficial language study sessions that you first asked Jacob out on a date.

He declined. But that didn’t stop you.

Some people would probably say you’re trying too hard, and you can see it — you’ve been asking Jacob out for almost a year with no luck. You’re in deep. But you just can’t help it, you know in your heart that he’s the one for you — and you trust that instinct, you always have. It’s what got you a best friend as amazing as Geumhyuk, so why would you possibly stop trusting that now?

But then… things changed.

Geumhyuk throws a party, which of course means you and Jacob are going to be in attendance. You’ve always been a lightweight, but that never stopped you from playing drinking games and taking shots with your friends. It wasn’t like you drank often, so you always lived it up when you did; by contrast, Jacob would spend most of the night nursing the same drink. The nights almost always ended with you tracking down Jacob in some corner of the house where he was avoiding the crowds, observing, and talking his ear off for a while.

It’s late spring, and Jacob is sitting out on the back steps. You wobble out of the house and sit down heavily beside him, immediately dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. Jacob lets out a little laugh,

“How much did you drink this time, Y/N?” You groan, closing your eyes.

“Way too much. But it was fun.” 

The two of you sit in silence, looking up at the moon. The stars are hard to see from where you are in the city, but with the party lights lingering behind your eyelids with each blink you can imagine that they’re right there in front of you. A breeze runs across your skin, and you scoot closer to Jacob and his sturdy warmth, pressing your knees to his. He gently takes hold of your cold fingers in his hands, holding them between his palms to warm them up.

“Ah, Jacob, you’re the best,” you say, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. “No wonder I love you so much.”

Suddenly, Jacob tenses. He lets go of your hands, and you open your eyes. His lips are pressed into a firm, thin line, his brows set solemnly.

“Stop that,” he says. Before you can even question what he means, he suddenly stands up from the steps. There’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before as he stares down at you, and you suddenly feel very small when he speaks again.

“You don’t love me, we aren’t together, so stop talking like we are. Love isn’t real, especially not yours — stop being so childish.” With that, Jacob turns and walks back into the house. The spring air suddenly feels freezing against your skin. You don’t realize you're crying until you get back to your dorm and notice the mascara tracks running down your cheeks, and you laugh. You look just as foolish as you feel; just as foolish as you must seem to Jacob and everyone around you

You cry in the shower, and cry yourself to sleep, and after that you don’t shed a single tear over Jacob. 

Spring turns to summer, and you barely see Jacob. Not only because you both have internships, but also because you make the conscious decision to distance yourself from him. Every time you look at him, even if it’s just his back in passing, you can’t help but hear what he said that night ringing in your ears. 

Who does he think he is, to say love doesn’t exist? You’re equal parts bitterly angry and sad over what he said. Who did they think they were, the person that made Jacob feel that way?

Geumhyuk knows better than to ask outright why you and Jacob suddenly don’t seem to be on speaking terms. In his typical dad fashion, he just tells you to be safe when you start going on dating apps and trying to meet new people, double- and triple-checking that he’s on speed dial in case anything goes wrong for you.

Sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes you call Geumhyuk after a trash date and the two of you just eat some ice cream together at his place. But then, things go right. You meet someone in the midsummer. He’s tall, lanky, and has an enchantingly deep voice. He works at the same place as you, but as an intern translator for English-speaking relations. It starts with you begging him to teach you some English, and quickly evolves into something else entirely. 

He’s not Jacob, but he’s equal parts sweet and sarcastic and Geumhyuk likes him. You don’t put a label on it, because you don’t feel ready to and Lou isn’t someone that’s going to push you if you’re uncomfortable, but the two of you hold hands and go on dates and snuggle up on the couch together watching movies. 

And yet some nights when your phone rings, you still wish it was Jacob trying to get in contact with you. 

Lou goes to another university near yours, so you do still see him sometimes when you’re both free on the weekends after the summer ends. As a result, you still don’t see Jacob very much at school. Your usual study sessions become less and less frequent, and you spend more of your weekends with Lou than you do Geumhyuk and Jacob. 

Jacob knows it shouldn’t bother him, but it does. 

As the semester starts to get busier, keeping you on campus more often, you suddenly find that your phone buzzes with messages from Jacob again. It starts with him relating messages from Geumhyuk, then evolves into him asking you for translations. Occasionally he quizzes you on your Chinese, which is actually very much appreciate because you’ve been slacking a bit without someone to practice regularly with. 

And then he starts asking to get meals with you between classes. You find that your feelings for Jacob, while faded, still exist deep within your heart. You should’ve expected it, you know that, but you can’t help but feel sick just thinking about it — more specifically, thinking about Lou with those feelings in your chest. 

It’s barely October when you break off whatever it is you have with Lou (he just laughs and tells you he saw it coming. He wishes you the best and somehow that’s the worst thing he could say to you.), then show up on Geumhyuk’s doorstep with bottles of soju in your arms and tears in your eyes. 

The great thing about Geumhyuk is he doesn’t judge you. The bad thing about Geumhyuk is that he literally always takes a phone call, even if you’re crying in the background. 

“Hello?” He says, then, “Oh, hey, Jacob. Um, now isn’t a good time—”

You don’t mean to, but you can’t stop the sob that rips from your chest. Geumhyuk runs back to your side immediately, and you can hear Jacob over the phone,

“What’s wrong? Is that Y/N?” You cry harder, so you don’t hear what Geumhyuk or Jacob say, burrowing down onto Geumhyuk’s couch and burying your face in a blanket. 

But you do hear the rapid knocking at the door, and Jacob’s voice once he comes through the door. You wipe at your cheeks with one hand and reach for your soju with the other, only to have a familiar hand snatch it away from you. You scowl up at Jacob, but he looks pissed; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry. 

“Give it,” you whine anyways, reaching for it, but Jacob rolls it behind him as he kneels by the couch. 

“No. You’re a mess, Y/N, what’s going on?” You shake your head. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it with you.” He furrows his brows, and you feel a pang in your heart at the sad look in his eyes. It’s not fair, you think. He can’t look at you like that after the way he dismissed your feelings. 

“Stop it,” you mumble into the blankets, looking away from him. 

“Stop what?” His voice is softer now, less angry. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you say. “You don’t care about me.”

“Y/N...” Jacob seems to falter, and you chance a look back up at him. No matter how hard you try, you still love Jacob; if he seems sad, it breaks your heart. And he certainly looks sad right now. He passes a hand over his face, and when he looks back at you he almost looks like he’s about to be the one crying instead of you. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out finally. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve regretted it ever since.” You sniffle and reach for his hand, desperate to comfort him. 

“It’s okay,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I shouldn’t have been so pushy—”

“Don’t,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were right about everything.”

“Everything?” You ask. Jacob lets out a bitter laugh. 

“This is the worst timing,” he sighs. His gaze falls to your hand still holding his, and he licks his lips before speaking again.

“You were right,” he starts. “Love is real. I should’ve trusted you from the start.”

“Jacob…” He lifts his hand, and you fall silent again, giving him time to speak. He seems troubled, and you feel absolutely helpless. For a prolonged moment, the two of you sit in silence, neither willing to break it with anything except your breathing. You wonder if Jacob can hear your pounding heart as clearly as you can.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, so softly and suddenly you almost miss it. You lean in closer, certain you’ve misheard, searching Jacob’s dark eyes as they stare steadily into yours.

“What?” You whisper, breathe, barely even words at all, and Jacob lets go of your hands and runs his thumbs under your eyes, cupping your face. You didn’t even realize you were crying.

“I’m always making you cry,” he notes, sadly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up, I’m sorry that I doubted you — but I hope I’m not too late.” With your throat full of tears, all you can manage to do is shake your head almost violently at the notion. The space in your heart that Jacob occupies may have been boarded up for a time, but it was never empty, never could be; you were always watching for signs of life through the cracks in the wood. The Chinese boy draws you into his arms, rubbing calming circles along your spine whilst you ruin the shoulder of his sweater with your tears. Once you’ve finally managed to stop crying, reduced merely to sniffling awkwardly, Jacob finally speaks again. You feel the rumble of his words in your chest.

“Does this mean we have a chance?” He asks. You pull away, swiping at your cheeks with a broad smile on your face.

“Of course,” you say. “It may take some time, but, you know what they say. Better late than never.” 

And it does take time, but it’s all worth it with Jacob by your side.

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [6/8]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 3800 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

"My company is not going to help you get out that door without Adaar, Lady Montilyet."

Josephine sagged back against Cassandra's door. It took a great deal of self-control to keep a scowl from her face. Cassandra hadn't even looked up from her book; in fact, her eyes were still scanning the page, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, as if whatever she was reading amused her.

"Surely your protection is equal to hers," Josephine tried, though she had a sinking feeling that this was already a lost cause. "Superior, some would argue."

Cassandra did shut the book now, one finger between the pages to hold her place. She looked up at Josephine with slightly narrowed eyes. "You have been trying to get out of this inn without her for the last three days. What is so important that she can't shadow you?"

Josephine considered her options. She thought the likelihood that Cassandra would repeat this conversation to Adaar was low; she also thought that she was more likely to gain some kind of assistance if she was honest.

And she needed the assistance. Cassandra was right. She had been trying, ever since Adaar's meeting with Minister Bellise, to escape the inn they'd rented for the duration of their stay here. She'd walked the streets of Val Royeaux plenty. She just hadn't managed to do it without Adaar.

She gestured to the empty chair at the room's rough hewn desk. "May I sit?"

Cassandra tilted her head to the side, eyes slightly narrowed, and nodded.

Josephine sat. "I had a gift made for Her—for her. The Inquisitor." She didn't think Cassandra had noticed the slip, but she pressed quickly onward regardless. "For helping me with this…mess. I need to visit the shop here to pick it up, but the surprise would be somewhat ruined if she was looming over my shoulder while I did that."

"Oh. I see. That is...thoughtful of you." Cassandra looked like she might say something else, but she shook her head instead. "Still, I stand by what I said. She will want to come along. It puts her mind at ease."

"Yes, I know. Believe me, I am not trying to make her uneasy. I only want to be able to thank her, but I fear that as soon as we receive word that the contract has been nullified, and I'm able to move freely again, she'll…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence; she could see in Cassandra's face, which was not exactly given to deception, that she knew exactly what Adaar planned to do as soon as this was over. Josephine wished that she—that someone, anyone—could convince Adaar otherwise. She sat at that table downstairs where she could see the entrances and exits from sunrise to sunset, and probably earlier and later, too. She looked more worn by the day, not prepared for another long ride and conflict waiting at the end of it.

"Will this merchant only release the gift to you, or would a proxy be able to collect it?"

"I suppose a proxy could." Josephine mulled this over, tapping a finger to her lips. "But it would be hard to pull any of our guards away from their duties. The Inquisitor would surely question—"

"A guard, yes," Cassandra said. "But not me." She snorted. "She'll think I went in search of another book, probably. I have not heard the end of this business from her." She tapped one finger on the cover of the book lying on the bed.

"You would…" Josephine's heart lifted. "Really? Cassandra, I would be so grateful."

"Consider it done. She has been very unpleasant to travel with recently. I did not realize how much I liked her jokes and stories until she became so...moody." Cassandra made a disgruntled face. "Hopefully this gift of yours will help return her to her usual self."

"I hope so, too." Among other things, Josephine thought. "I'll write something to the merchant, to explain. Laurine Boudet; she's on the Artists' Street."

Cassandra opened her book up again. "And I will go as soon as I've finished this chapter."

"Take your time." Josephine stood, feeling a hundred times lighter. "Thank you, Cassandra."

Cassandra only nodded, her eyes already traveling quickly across the page once more, and Josephine let herself out.

From here, at the railing that looked down into the lower level of the inn, she saw that Adaar still sat at that table. There was an untouched mug of ale at one corner, holding down one of the pieces of vellum strewn across the surface. She rested her chin on one hand, dark eyes downcast—maybe reading some of the reports Josephine had composed for her on the shaky political state of Orlais, or maybe trying, desperately, to stay awake. Once in a while, she stirred enough to look from one doorway to the next, then went back to her work.

Well, that was Josephine's next task. Once Cassandra was safely away, Josephine would lead Adaar in the opposite direction. Since she refused to rest, this was the only way that Josephine could convince her to step away from her post—well, after a fashion. It was more that her post moved, so she followed it. Josephine made sure to lead them only to shops where the entrances were few, and obvious, where Adaar did not need to have eyes in the back of her head to keep careful watch.

Josephine returned briefly to her room to dash off a note to Madame Laurine. She dripped wax on the folded paper, pressed her signet ring to it, and then left it with Cassandra, who waved away her thanks and went downstairs. She and Adaar exchanged a few brief words, but true to Cassandra's guess, Adaar had no issues with her wandering off on her own.

Josephine waited a few more minutes, watching from the railing. Adaar shuffled a few pieces of paper. Her hand rested on her mug, briefly, but she didn't drink. She tugged thoughtfully on the end of her braid, tied with a piece of simple leather cord. Small wisps of her hair—dark, but with a peculiar gray cast that gave it an interesting depth—had pulled free of the plait.

Josephine's heart ached for her. Ached for her weariness, yes, wanted to smooth away the furrows that drew her brows together, but also ached just for her. They hadn't spoken again of their relationship; every time they came close, Adaar found a way to steer them around. Still thinking, still weighing. Josephine, true to her word, had held her tongue.

It was hard, when new arguments occurred to her every day—every hour, it seemed sometimes.

But she had to be patient. Adaar's concerns were not without foundation. She had the measure of the world; she saw it clearly. There were people who would look at them askance: people Josephine knew in Antiva who would think that the level-headed Montilyet girl had fallen to flights of romantic fancy, as was inevitable, given her father's artistic spirit; people who saw Adaar as a tool instead of a person, and so would wonder how Josephine planned to use her; people who were too ignorant to learn the distinction between Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth and Qunari, who would think Josephine had become a puppet of the Qun. There had been whispers of that from the beginning, suggestions that the whole of the Inquisition was under the sway of some foreign power.

And Adaar had never cared about any of that before. Well, Josephine was sure that she cared; she just was very good at appearing as if she was above it all. Josephine had seen her keep a politely bland look on her face even while people stared at her, gawped at her, whispered behind their hands about her; even while visiting delegations to Haven and Skyhold had done their best to pretend that she wasn't in the room; even when their closest allies had treated her warily, had questioned her intentions. I've had thirty years to get used to those kinds of looks, she'd told Josephine once. I will survive.

It had eaten away at her while she survived it, though. How could it not? She enjoyed the friendship and respect she'd gained, but worried—understandably—that it could be taken from her, swept away as if it had never existed in the first place. As if she didn't have the right to it. As if she wasn't deserving.

Josephine would prove her wrong, given the opportunity. She'd dress her in a gown beautiful enough to complement, if not quite match, Adaar's own beauty. Drape her in some of the glittering jewelry Adaar had spoken of so flippantly, even if the look in her eyes had spoken of an emotion more like old, hopeful longing. Weave bright, lovely flowers through her long, lovely hair. Present her to the people Josephine knew would appreciate her, starting with her own family. Her brothers would admire Adaar's habit of hard work even as they sometimes shirked their own duties; Yvette would hang on all of Adaar's exaggerated stories, a perfect audience; her mother would meet Adaar's dry humor word for word, and her father would look on it all with an indulgent smile, as long as Josephine was happy.

And their friends, their closest social circle...no matter how gauche, those people attended the salons Papa put on himself; they were indulgent of Yvette's many harebrained interruptions. They might blink in surprise at their first sight of Adaar, but by the end of an evening, they would adore her. Not as much as Josephine adored her—that was impossible—but enough.

There were plenty of cruelties in this world, but Josephine would find some way to shield Adaar from them, to the best of her ability. If only Adaar would let her try.

She shook herself from her scheming and made for the stairs. In the meantime, she would do what she could to soothe Adaar's uneasiness, and pray that she would come around sooner rather than later.

Adaar looked up at her as she descended, a brief, slow smile spreading over her face, warming her eyes. Josephine's heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of it.

Adaar pushed out the chair across from her with her foot. "Coming to see me, my lady?"

Josephine sat, settling her skirts, tucking her ankles neatly against one another. "Who else?"

"Maybe you have urgent business with Bull," Adaar mused, glancing across to a corner of the tavern room, where Iron Bull and Dorian were in the midst of an animated conversation.

"I know better than to try to interject there," Josephine said, and Adaar chuckled. "I thought we might take a walk. There's a delightful seamstress just a few streets away. Beautiful fabric—silks, velvet, lace…my wardrobe is still woefully thin after Haven, and you ought to supplement yours, too."

"Me?" Adaar cast her a bemused look, eyebrows slightly raised. "What for?" 

There was a little wavy tendril of her hair that had fallen against her cheek. Josephine hated how tired she looked, but being a little mussed, a little undone, did suit her. As if she'd just woken up; as if she smiled at Josephine from the other side of the pillow instead of the other side of the table—

She tried to clip that line of thought before it could spiral out of control. "You look very dashing in armor," she said, and Adaar snorted, but she didn't look displeased. "But it doesn't suit all circumstances. There are more events of a social nature in your near future."

Adaar plucked at the collar of her leather coat. "Wonderful. I'm sure you've guessed this, but I don't think I'd feel comfortable in…finery. I doubt I'd look comfortable, either. There's just too many frills, and laces, and—"

"I promise you, this seamstress can make plenty of things that are perfectly comfortable. And elegant, but understated." Josephine eyed Adaar thoughtfully. "Many people wander the ballrooms of Val Royeaux wearing such exaggerated, fantastic pieces that the wearer is entirely overshadowed by them. That is not the goal, here. You will not be displaying frills and laces; whatever you wear must display you. Your power, your resolve…your beauty."

Adaar ducked her head, but not before Josephine saw her smile. "Flatterer. What do the courts care for my beauty?"

"Oh, they are blind to such things," Josephine said, flippantly, daringly. "But I have eyes."

Adaar gave a breathless laugh that sounded very sweet indeed. "Well, then. I suppose I have been talked into a walk."

Josephine grinned in triumph and was halfway to her feet when one of the guards trotted up to their table. "Message for you, Ambassador," he said, laying the scroll on the table. "Runner just came and went. And from Skyhold, for you, Inquisitor." He handed a second, much smaller, scroll to Adaar—the paper thin, the better to be carried by raven.

Josephine gave the scroll on the table a long look. She could feel her heart beating in her ears, beneath her ribs, in her stomach—a nervous, anxious drumming so much less pleasant than the flutters Adaar inspired.

"This is the seal of the House of Repose," she said. 

Adaar paused in the act of slitting her own scroll open. Her eyes darted to the missive. "Read quickly."

Josephine fumbled a little on the seal, but rolled the paper open, held it in her hands. The culmination of all her work, all Adaar's patience—she hoped. Maker, how she hoped. She hoped so much that she was nearly blind with it.

She read the words rapidly. Once through, and then twice, to make sure it was not a hazy daydream. She let out a trembling breath she had not realized she'd been holding.

"They confirm that the Du Paraquettes have nullified the contract," she said. "There's no longer a price on my life."

Adaar slumped back in her seat, a marionette with her strings cut. Josephine was quite tempted to do the same. She was so stunned that she was not quite sure she had arrived at relief yet.

"You're sure?" Adaar said, as though she couldn't help but ask. "It's not a trick, or a dupe, or…"

"It's their seal. Genuine. It's over."

Josephine steadied herself, trying to calm her racing thoughts, set them in order. She still needed to dispatch the new paperwork restoring her family's trading status; the couriers would have much less distance to travel this time. The arbiter still had to agree to uphold their earlier negotiations. 

But the worst of it…yes, the worst of it was done.

"I think I am so relieved that my fingers have gone numb," Adaar said—dryly, but a little faintly, too.

"That might be the exhaustion," Josephine pointed out. Just as she'd mentioned to Cassandra, just as she'd feared, she saw her window of opportunity closing, and leapt to hold it open. "I know you planned to set out again as soon as you could, but…might I convince you to stay in Val Royeaux, just for one more night? To celebrate?"

Adaar glanced at her over the scroll she'd just finished carefully prying open. Her hands were trembling a little. "Heard about that, did you?"

"I was not under the impression that it was a secret."

"It wasn't," Adaar sighed, bending her head to the page. "One more night couldn't do any harm, I guess. We'd only get a few hours down the road before we'd have to rest for the evening, anyway."

"Good. There is a lovely little restaurant here I think you'd like." Josephine lowered her voice. "The food at this inn is perfectly fine, mind, but we've had the same stew for three days."

A frown had appeared on Adaar's brow. Her eyes swept the flimsy page, back and forth, back and forth. "Yes," she muttered, but as if with only half a mind. "It's been sort of…lumpy…"

Josephine was so distracted by the thought of a candlelit dinner, free of worry—well, free of immediate worry—and daydreams of a moonlit walk afterward where she might present Adaar with her gift, and what reaction she might receive to it, that it took her much too long to realize that Adaar had stopped reading; that she stared frozen at the page like it had driven a blade through her ribs.

A cold shiver of dread touched Josephine's nape. "What is it?" she asked.

It seemed as if Josephine's words unknotted a spell; Adaar shook her head, lurched back from the table. She rose to her feet with none of her usual grace. "I have to go," she said, her voice rough.

Josephine stood, too, just in time to catch Adaar's arm as she moved toward the stairs. "Go where? What's happened? Has Skyhold…?"

Adaar looked down at her, her eyes—which had gone distant and unfocused, panicked—catching on Josephine's face. "Nothing like that," she said, though the fine shiver in her voice was not particularly reassuring. "No, it's Duskfield. A letter from Jana arrived after we departed. I have to go home."

She offered the scroll to Josephine, and Josephine took it, aware that the entire room had quieted, aware that no one was staring at them but that plenty were waiting, breath baited, for whatever news had so unsettled Adaar. The letter was in Leliana's elegant, compact hand, describing the plea from Jana: the bandits that had taken the village, her flight to Tantervale to beg help, the city-state's forces stretched too thin to respond quickly, to help…

I've sent word to my closest agents, Leliana had written. They will offer what aid they can, but I thought that you would want to know.

Josephine knew that Leliana's closest agents could not exactly be close. The worst of the rifts, the fighting, had not yet bled over into the Free Marches; the Inquisition had only the lightest of presences there. And Duskfield, while close to Adaar's heart, held no real strategic importance as a result.

Leliana's intention was clear: she would not waste time by sending no one at all, but she had notified Adaar so that she could go herself.

Josephine looked from the page to Adaar's troubled, frightened features. "I will go with you," she declared.

For a moment, Adaar didn't react at all; then the furrow in her brow deepened. "Josephine—it will be—"

"Dangerous. I know. I said I would go, and I'm going." She put the scroll back in Adaar's hand.

Adaar's fingers curled around it automatically. "That was when we'd planned a leisure trip—I wouldn't hold you to—"

"I can help," Josephine said, making her voice firm, squaring her shoulders. "These are not rifts and demons. They are people. Perhaps they can still hear reason."

Adaar gave a broken, hopeless laugh. "You do have a way with words, I'll give you that, but it doesn't sound like these people do. It might come to bloodshed, anyway. Then what?"

"Then I will keep your old friends and neighbors calm and quiet and hidden while you do your work," she said. "And I know that you will not fail, so I will be perfectly safe."

Still, Adaar hesitated. Josephine could see the conflict all over her face. Josephine had just been safely delivered from mortal danger, and now she demanded to ride right back into it. Unnecessarily, in Adaar's opinion.

But Josephine had just proven, too, that she could unknot an elaborate problem with words and promises. With a little help, and a little time. And this did not sound like nearly so elaborate a problem as the one that had just come unknotted.

Josephine told herself to be bold, and lifted her hand from Adaar's arm to touch her cheek instead. Adaar's eyes flicked away from her and back again, as if to warn her that there were others here, others who might talk about this little scene later.

A voice made of silverite within her said, Let them.

She would begin now to prove to Adaar what she had promised. That she did not care, and would not change her mind. That if this place, these people, were important to Adaar, then they were important to her, status or strategic importance entirely aside.

"You risked much to help my family," she said quietly, for Adaar's ears alone. "To save me. I could not live with myself if I didn't help you when you needed me."

Adaar looked at her now. Her, and only her. "There is no debt between us. There is nothing to repay."

"I am not speaking of debt," Josephine said, so that Adaar could not misunderstand her.

Adaar held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded, the motion brief, her eyes closing. "Thank you."

Josephine let her hand fall, and did not linger to long on Adaar's acceptance. She did not want to give her the opportunity to change her mind. "We should travel light, I think. Light and fast."

Again, Adaar nodded. When her eyes opened again, the overwhelming emotion that had briefly brimmed there had banked somewhat. "None of the guards. Cassandra, Bull, and Dorian only."

"Finally, I will get a chance to see how you usually travel," Josephine said, teasing, hoping to lighten the burden on Adaar's heart just a little, and she was rewarded with a shaky smile. "Without all of this pomp and ceremony."

"You might regret that later," Adaar said. "Cassandra complains about the horses whenever the slightest opportunity presents itself, and Dorian complains about the cold whenever there's the slightest breeze, and Bull winds them both up for fun."

"But we usually have fresh roasted rabbit for dinner," Bull's voice said cheerfully from the other side of the table. "Where we heading, boss?"

Josephine knew that he had likely overheard everything, and Adaar obviously suspected it, too. "East," she said. "If you're willing to help with a personal errand."

"I, for one, love personal errands," Dorian put in.

Adaar rubbed at her temples. "All right. As soon as Cassandra returns…best pack up. I want to use the daylight we have left."

Josephine was grateful that she'd approached Cassandra an hour ago. She hadn't known how close she'd come to being unable to collect the gift at all. She mourned the idea of that candlelit dinner, the moonlit walk she'd imagined along Val Royeaux's waterfront, but she let the daydreams go.

She would find some other way.

[satonthelotuspier]

A Very Untamed New Year

A gift for New Year, a small trip back to Cultivation, Wyoming to check on our boy Wei Wuxian. Follows from A Very Hallmark Untamed Christmas.

Happy New Year to everyone from the UK (in about 4 hours)

When Wei Wuxian woke up the cold air in the room soon made him pull his face under the bed covers.

At the slight movement he felt the man beside him stir; arms tightening around him possessively with a softly questioning, “Wei Ying?”

“I’m here Lan Zhan” he murmured sleepily, melting into the embrace and snuggling up against Lan Wangji’s body as closely as he could.

There was a part of Wei Wuxian who acknowledged it was sweet but that deeper, darker part of him was disturbed and guilty that Lan Wangji was still so unsure about Wei Wuxian’s commitment to the relationship his first waking thought was to check he was there.

All he could do was set the other’s mind at rest over time by being here.

Lan Wangji stroked his back gently, he always touched Wei Wuxian like he was the most precious, fragile thing he’d ever come across. To think that this amazing man had held love for Wei Wuxian in his heart for thirteen years and longer just blew his mind; he certainly didn’t think he was worth it.

Eventually Lan Wangji sat up and Wei Wuxian grumbled, “It’s too cold Lan Zhan, can’t we stay here today?”

“I have to go in to work” Lan Wangji turned to him and stroked a soft, soothing thumb over his eyebrow, “I’ll make you breakfast”

“I could make you breakfast while you shower” Wei Wuxian offered, and Lan Wangji couldn’t stop the slight freezing of his features. “Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed in shocked amusement, “I can just not put hot sauce in your eggs this time. You’d think I poisoned you”

“Yes, you’d think” Lan Wangji agreed with the tiniest smile as he leant down to place a soft kiss on Wei Wuxian’s naked shoulder.

“Even you tease me now” he complained in feigned exasperation, pushing him away playfully, “Go on then, get up, Mr Responsibility”

***

Jiang Yanli had invited the whole family over for dinner that evening, so it was agreed Lan Wangji would meet him there. In the meantime Wei Wuxian had to start putting some plans into place about moving his life from New York back to Cultivation and therefore he had a lot to arrange.

They shared a kiss at Lan Wangji’s door.

“Drive carefully” Lan Wangji ordered him, throwing his car a nasty look, “You’ll need to get something more suitable for the weather”

“I know, I know, leave it with me. Now get to work Sheriff” he pushed Lan Wangji in the direction of his own car and drove himself out to Lotus Pier.

He wanted to get everything in New York sorted as quickly as possible as he would need to sit down in January and start plotting out his next novel, and usually once he started the plotting he became engrossed and a lot of life went on the back burner. He paused as he pulled up outside the ranch house to wonder how their lives would mesh once he did start writing. Lan Wangji had only really spent time with him while he was between books which meant he could fit their relationship around Lan Wangji’s working life; when he did start writing his schedule went haywire. he could quite happily spend days living on coffee and fumes and naps and then blow out on a whole day in bed. He supposed that would be when the real litmus test for their fledgling relationship would be.

At lunchtime Jiang Cheng appeared and they ate soup and sandwiches. Jiang Cheng was unusually distracted and barely acknowledged half of what Wei Wuxian said to him. He had been a little distracted on Christmas Day too but the general fuss and craziness of them all being together under one roof, and Jin Ling’s extreme excitement had deflected a lot of the attention from him.

Yes, he had been a bit of a crappy brother with his absence for the last several years (most of which had been beyond his control and to protect his sister), but he still knew his brother.

“What’s going on, Jiang Cheng?” he asked as the other loaded the plates into the dishwasher.

The man jumped at his name and almost dropped the crockery.

“What? Nothing’s going on, what do you even mean?” he made sure his back was firmly to Wei Wuxian.

Honestly Wei Wuxian didn’t know whether at this stage it was worth pushing Jiang Cheng for an answer.

Probably not. Ninety nine percent of dealing with his brother’s emotional distance was knowing when to push him. Too soon and it would cause a nuclear explosion of temper, too late and he’d just lock his emotions down like Fort Knox. There was a very slim “I’m willing to talk about this” window and Wei Wuxian judged he wasn’t in that window yet.

***

Dinner at the Jin household was a lively affair. Jin Ling was in his element with his uncles there as new people to convince to play with his new Christmas toys with him.

Jiang Yanli bustled around filling drinks, checking on Jin Ling, throwing random hugs out, chatting to everyone; completely in her element surrounded by her family in it’s entirety again.

It was an enjoyable evening and as they sat around the dinner table conversation flowed  around Wei Wuxian, he chipped in where he wanted, let it pass over him where he didn’t and he was just so happy to be part of this again.

He was casually playing footsie with a stoic Sheriff Lan under the table when Jin Zixuan dropped the bombshell.

“Have you seen Luo Qingyang yet now she’s back in town?” he froze for a moment as the news took him completely by surprise. It was so sudden he didn’t really have time to examine how it made him feel, except worried about how Lan Wangji would react as he sought out the other’s eyes in some odd kind of guilt.

He didn’t know why he felt like that, he had nothing to feel guilty about, Lan Wangji knew he’d been in a long term relationship with Mian Mian.

The other’s face was a careful study in neutrality, which told him absolutely nothing. And didn’t ease his worry or guilt.

He realised not just Lan Wangji but the whole table was looking at him, awaiting his answer. He turned to Jin Zixuan and gave a little shake of his head.

“I didn’t know she was, it would normally have been the year her parents went out to New York. I’ll have to get in touch with her”

Jin Zixuan would have heard about it because Mian Mian’s mother worked with him at the County Attorney’s office. Still, he wished he’d had a little advance warning so he hadn’t been caught on the raw with his entire family watching.

Jiang Yanli turned the conversation on to other topics then and the unnatural silence dissipated.

Jin Zixuan pulled him aside later as they prepared to leave, “I’m sorry about dropping that on you, I genuinely thought you’d have heard from Mian Mian, Yanli said you keep in touch”

“Don’t worry about it, we do talk from time to time, she didn’t mention coming home for Christmas but in fairness she doesn’t know I’m moving back here; knowing me she probably though I’d be back in New York already by now”

***

He and Lan Wangji left together although Wei Wuxian had plans to meet Nie Huaisang for a quick drink at The Lakeside.

He was tempted to cancel them because he was concerned the Mian Mian thing was a big issue. Although he had no idea why.

“Shall I come with you?” he asked tentatively, and Lan Wangji looked at him, a slight trace of confusion on his face.

“Aren’t you going out for a drink?” he asked pulling his gloves on against the bitter winter air.

“I was, I can cancel if you want? Or you could come?”

“Wei Ying, why would you need to cancel? Just go see Nie Huaisang. Are you going back to Lotus Pier afterwards?”

“If you want me to” his voice sounded pathetically small even to his own ears.

“I don’t, stay with me. I’d worry about you driving out there with that unsuitable car of yours”

“OK, I won’t be too late” he leaned forward to press a kiss against Lan Wangji’s mouth, and the other accepted it, so he took that as a positive.

***

As he did have to drive in the snow he stuck to one beer, which Nie Huaisang had ordered for him when he arrived. He’d fired off a quick text to Mian Mian in the parking lot, figuring he’d better pull the band-aid on that one quick.

Huaisang was a little tipsy when he arrived which equalled merry and extra sassy.

“Well look here its Wei Wuxian” he purred as Wei Wuxian slid into the booth beside him, “You are looking fine my dear, dear friend. It seems regular dicking downs agree with you. We must thank our local LEO”

His brother, bar owner Nie Mingjue threw Wei Wuxian a helpless shrug from behind the bar as he noticed Wei Wuxian’s look at him.

“I’m really not sure Lan Zhan would appreciate your gesture” he said mockingly and Huaisang snorted out a laugh.

“I’m damn sure he wouldn’t” he traced the rim of his margarita glass with one black-painted nail. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure the only reason margarita was a thing at The Lakeside was because Nie Huaisang drank them and Nie Mingjue was the owner. He was also pretty sure Nie Huaisang was the only one in town who drank them. “But that’s just me being a jealous bitch, my supplier is withholding at the moment”

“Your supplier?” he smelled gossip Nie Huaisang probably wouldn’t tell him fully sober, seeing as he hadn’t mentioned anything about either being attracted to someone or dating recently, “Why didn’t I know about this?”

Nie Huaisang giggled and lifted the margarita glass to take a drink, “Because I can’t tell you that your brother and I fucked, can I? You’d go crazy”

Wei Wuxian spat out his beer and it was only as Nie Huaisang saw him desperately trying to mop it up with napkins that he realised what he’d said.

“Fuck” his face drained of all colour and he tried to get up to escape but Wei Wuxian caught his wrist and held him in his seat.

“Oh no you don’t you little fox. You’d better just come clean” he ordered, “The cat’s already out of the bag, so tell me or I go ask Jiang Cheng right now and tell him how I know”

“No you can’t do that to me bro, he’d kill me” it was Huaisang’s turn to catch hold of Wei Wuxian’s wrists then, holding onto him as if he thought the other might genuinely just get up and go talk to Jiang Cheng.

“So talk, how long has this been going on?”

“Just once, on Christmas Eve. He hasn’t even replied to my texts. Asshole” Nie Huaisang, sweet little gossip baby, had trouble controlling his mouth at the best of times; now he was tipsy it was like a stream of information.

“I didn’t even realise you liked him”

“Wei Wuxian, you sweet, innocent child, your brother is hot, and he has muscles. And a perfect ass-”

“Shut up!” he clamped his hands over his ears; he didn’t want to know how attractive anyone found Jiang Cheng because it was his brother and his brother definitely didn’t have sex. Any kind of sex. Neither did his sister; Jin Ling had literally come from the stork. He’d hear of nothing else. He removed his hands once assured of the other’s silence.

“Do you want to see him again?” he asked out of curiosity.

“What I want doesn’t seem to matter at the moment, as I said, he’s ignoring me, so it’s academic” and Huaisang genuinely did look upset by that fact; which gave Wei Wuxian all the answer he needed.

But despite his initial reaction of wanting to stick his nose in it struck him now that it wasn’t fair of him. His brother’s and his best friend’s love life were their own to deal with as they saw fit, whether it be together or not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have demanded the details, its really none of my business. And I’m sorry Jiang Cheng is ghosting you, that’s kinda shitty of him. Just...remember it’s Jiang Cheng, OK? He’s always dealt with things in his own crazy way” he tried to offer sympathy and a little hope, Jiang Cheng really did retreat before he advanced in all things.

They changed the subject and chatted about other things but it was subdued and he could tell Huaisang was distracted now, and possibly feeling the effects of those margaritas as he started yawning.

“I should go, I promised Lan Zhan I wouldn’t be too late. You look like you need bed too” he hugged his maudlin friend and walked out to his car, confident the half beer he’d managed wouldn’t affect his reflexes behind the wheel.

He checked his phone before he turned the engine on.

A missed call and a text back from Mian Mian asking him to call her when he saw the message. It was still before ten so he deemed that to be acceptable hours to a city dweller like Mian Mian and returned her call.

She picked up at the third ring, “Yuan Dao” he felt his mouth soften into a smile as she greeted him.

“Hey Mian Mian, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come over? I really need to talk to you, as soon as possible”

“Well of course. How about tomorrow? Wouldn’t it disturb your parents if I came over now?”

“They’re staying over at relatives in Jackson tonight, now would be better”

“Alright, give me a few minutes then” he hung up and stared at his phone, torn. What the hell did he say to Lan Wangji? Hey bae, I’m dashing off to see my ex, the one I’ve literally just heard is back in town and I’m driving over there right now in the middle of the night but I promise it’s not for sex?

He dropped his head to the steering wheel in frustration.

Honesty here was probably the best policy, but also he felt like it was dangerous as they hadn’t discussed the matter yet.

It wasn’t ten o'clock yet, it was probably something really quick and he’d be able to get home to Lan Wangji before he was even expected.

He put his mobile away and drove the short distance to Mian Mian’s parent’s house. As he pulled up he saw a curtain twitch across the street, and honestly that was his big city brain to blame, of course this was a small town where everyone got up in your business. He fired off the text he’d thought he might avoid to Lan Wangji, then walked up the path to the porch.

Mian Mian wanted to talk to me, I’ll be back as soon as I can be x

Mian Mian had been waiting and opened the door before he could ring.

He felt the phone vibrate in his jeans pocket as he reached her and could only blame how distracted he was thinking about what Lan Wangji had replied with for missing a very key piece of visual information until they’d hugged, Mian Mian had kissed his cheek and closed the door behind him.

She was dressed in comfy warm pyjamas and big thick socks, and was ever so slightly pregnant!

He felt his knees wobble, his head spin and the half beer he’d had rise up the back of his throat. She moved over to catch his arm when she saw how close he was to passing out, “Yuan Dao, what’s wrong?” she guided him to the sofa; he collapsed onto it as his knees finally gave out, and she noticed his eyes were stuck on her small but obvious baby bump. “Seriously? Did you fail biology or something you nitwit?” she patted his cheek with a short sharp slap, “We broke up 8 months ago, if this was yours I’d be the size of a house side now. Also I might have said something to you about it before now if you were the father”

His stomach settled a little but he felt the need to confirm, “It’s not mine?”

“No, it’s not yours. But I figured you needed to know. I genuinely didn’t know you were still in town. I thought you’d have been back in New York for weeks by now” she patted his arm, “Can I get you a drink? A coffee or something?”

“No thanks. Listen, Mian Mian, I think your mother’s been keeping some of the town gossip from you. About me specifically. I’m moving back here. I’ve been sorting removals for the New York apartment today actually. And-I’m seeing someone”

“Lets park the moving back to Dullsville USA for a second can we, because what the fuck? But you’re seeing someone? That I am pleased to hear. Is it Wen Qing? You and Wen Ning were always close so I could see that happening”

“It’s Lan Zhan, Mian Mian” she paused for a few seconds, and he feared it was judgement, despite the fact she’d always known he identified as bisexual, but it was just because he’d not referred to him as Lan Wangji and it took her a little time to work out who he was talking about.

Her squeal could have shattered glass.

“Oh. My. God. You and Lan Wangji. That quiet little pretty boy who had the biggest crush on your for forever?”

“What the hell? Did everyone in the world know he liked me but me?”

“Of course, there just ain’t no fixin’ stupid” Mian Mian mocked him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Are you kidding? Tell my bi boyfriend the guy who’s three times prettier than I am liked him? Do you listen to the crazy that comes out of your mouth sometimes?” she laughed, delighted, “But seriously that was his business, not mine. So you’re moving back?”

He nodded and took her hands, “Yes, I need to be near my family. I didn’t know how much I’d missed them until I couldn’t avoid it anymore” he stroked a thumb across her knuckles soothingly, “But yeah, enough about me, you have some rather momentous news of your own”

She put a protective hand on the small but obvious bump.

“I’m sorry I asked you over here so late, but when I heard you were still in town I wanted you to know about this from me and not some gossip. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was honestly worried it would upset you. I know we parted amicably enough but you weren’t expecting it”

That was the truth, when Mian Mian had said that though she loved him they just weren’t what she wanted anymore it had been very difficult, it had come out of the blue as far as he was concerned, and although he’d tried to be supportive and reasonable she had hurt him, even though that hadn’t been her intention.

“I’m not upset. If you’re happy Mian Mian, that’s enough for me” and he truly meant it.

Her dark eyes softened and she hugged him close, “Yuan Dao, honestly you’re too pure for this world. Do you mind me talking about it?”

“Of course not, tell me”

“So I’ve been dating someone, a commodities broker. We didn’t plan to get pregnant, it was faulty protection. But we’re trying to make it work. And I do like him, I think it’s going well?”

“I’m honestly happy for you Mian Mian” she told him more about her new partner and what she’d been up to since they’d met last time. Then she pulled on his sleeve.

“I think that boyfriend of yours might think I’ve kidnapped you if you don’t go soon, it’s getting pretty late” she told him stifling a yawn.

“And Mian Mian is tired” he laughed and got to his feet.

“Yes, Mian Mian is tired and Yuan Dao has to return to the one who’s yearning for him” she agreed and walked with him to the door.

“So cheesy” he shook his head as they paused on the doorstep to exchange a hug and he kissed her cheek.

“That’s what I thought when you used your killer pickup line on me” she stood rubbing a soothing hand on her belly, she was the first to notice the police cruiser a little further down the street, “You got a police escort?” she asked in confusion; which Wei Wuxian shared as he turned to look at what she meant.

It all became clear when Lan Wangji and one of his young deputies Xiao Xingchen escorted one of Mian Mian’s neighbours to the car.

“Drinking again” she clicked her teeth in irritation, then waved him off, “Go on, home, it’s too cold to be stood out here with you, drive carefully, at least you know with Lan Wangji going back to the station you’ve no need to rush into his arms”

“You’re hilarious” he rolled his eyes and walked back to his car as she agreed and shut the door behind him.

He arrived at his car as the Sheriff and his Deputy had secured their guest, Lan Wangji saw him and gave him the briefest of nods before climbing into the cruiser.

The first thing he did was check his phone for the text that had been at the back of his mind since it had first arrived.

Lan Wangji had replied with only “Mn” which was basically his version of OK. Lan Wangji was so undemonstrative with his feelings Wei Wuxian really had no read on him.

***

He was showered and dressed and making coffee the next morning when Lan Wangji finally arrived home.

He looked tired.

“Do you want a coffee or do you want to go straight to sleep?” he asked. It wouldn’t be fair of him to try talking about anything this morning when the other looked ready to fall asleep on his feet.

“A coffee please, Wei Ying” he requested and sat at the kitchen table. Wei Wuxian brought both coffees over and sat down too. “How is Luo Qingyang?”

Wei Wuxian met his eyes, but of course he couldn’t read anything in them. “She’s doing well. Her new partner couldn’t come back with her as he was flying to Europe to visit family. They’re expecting a baby”

“Mn, I saw last night, she’s about four months along perhaps? How do you feel?”

He tilted his head at the question, “About Mian Mian, her new partner and baby? Honestly happy for her. Maybe a few months ago it would have cut me, but we’ve both moved on now and that’s good. I’ll always care for her, we were together for fifteen years, but we’re both finding our way in new relationships”

This time he did hear the soft exhale of breath, see Lan Wangji close his eyes briefly in relief.

“You were jealous!” he exclaimed in delight.

He actually squealed when Lan Wangji got to his feet, caught his wrist and pulled him firmly in the direction of the bedroom.

He was pushed down onto the bed and pinned beneath Lan Wangji’s body, but of course he didn’t go quietly, doing a lot of wriggling and complaining.

Lan Wangji caught his chin and held his face still, “Wei Ying, of course I’m jealous of the person who had you for fifteen years that I didn’t. It makes me insane if I think about it.  But now, Wei Ying, you are mine”

“Yours” he breathed the word against Lan Wangji’s lips as the other bent to kiss him. It was a kiss of pure possession, as if Lan Wangji had funnelled all his feelings into that one contact.

Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours later when Lan Wangji pulled back briefly to let them catch their breaths.

“I think maybe you should remind me I’m yours, just to be safe” Wei Wuxian teased as his fingers went to the buttons of Lan Wangji’s uniform shirt.

“Mn”

***

He made his way back out to Lotus Pier later that day when Lan Wangji went back on duty. Unfortunately, due to...circumstances...the Sheriff hadn’t caught up on much sleep.

“Honestly, how are you not in Jail for public lasciviousness?” Jiang Cheng demanded in irritation.

“Uh...all my lascivious activities are undertaken in the privacy of the home” he went to the fridge to grab a can of soda.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re wandering around looking like that; he might as well have fucked you in the town square for how obvious it is”

Wei Wuxian shrugged and looked at Jiang Cheng calculatingly.

“You did a much better job of hiding your little liaison” he poked and Jiang Cheng stiffened, his face flaming and his temper flaring.

“What? Has Nie Huaisang ever had a thought or action he didn’t tell you about afterwards? Fucking great”

“Listen Jiang Cheng, it’s your business and I dont want to stick my nose in too much, you’re an adult able to make his own decisions. Just don’t be a dick to him OK? I think he really likes you, so if you’re not interested tell him, don’t just ignore him. And try to let him down gently”

“You think he likes me? Did he say that?”

“Not directly, but he was pretty upset you were ghosting him so yeah, he wanted to see you again”

“Why?”

“A question we have all considered without answer” he mocked. “It’s your problem now though. I’ve said all I wanted you to hear”

“I think I like him” Jiang Cheng’s voice was unusually quiet and tentative.

Wei Wuxian threw the unopened can of soda to Jiang Cheng and retrieved another one, indicating they should sit at the kitchen table. He was going to have to be big brother and listen to Jiang Cheng. Apparently he had perfectly stumbled upon that window of “I’m prepared to talk about this”.

“OK, you don’t sound too sure”

“I wasn’t. I’m not. I’ve spent enough time chasing after Lan Xichen it’s got me confused. But I think I do”

“So date him, spend time together to find out. That’s kind of what dating is for. It’s a try before you buy right?”

“Do you think he’d want to date me? What if he just wants to be fuck buddies?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t pretend to know the mind of his friend. “Honestly if he does he’ll just tell you. And then you can make an informed decision on whether that’s something you want too or not. You both have voices, use them, instead of just sitting here thinking about it”

“I’ll think about it” Jiang Cheng mumbled and got up to walk away and Wei Wuxian just sighed.

***

The next few days passed in a whirl of social events and organising.

He managed to get Lan Wangji to agree to come with him to New York in early January to help pack up his apartment, as had he convinced Jiang Yanli to bring Jin Ling so they could have a few days of sightseeing too.

Then it was New Years Eve and they found themselves at the Lakeside for the countdown.

He dropped into the booth beside Lan Wangji who threw an arm over his shoulder as Wei Wuxian moved to sit flush against his side, taking the beer he was offered with his free hand.

“So is Cultivation going to implode when you step foot out of it?”

He shook his head, “No, only if brother and I both left at the same time. As long as one of us is here the old gods are appeased”

“I see” he grinned into the soft amber eyes and reached over to kiss him gently on the mouth. “I have a good feeling about next year” he said confidently leaning his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

His brother and Nie Huaisang seemed to have come to some agreement, as he could see them off the other side of the dance floor in quite an involved kiss.

Honestly Jiang Cheng was lucky it was out of line of sight of the bar or he might have a very protective Nie Mingjue to deal with.

“Next year will be good, Wei Ying” Lan Wangji agreed as he leaned in to kiss Wei Wuxian as the countdown to midnight began.