#i read that this quote isnt even from his books lol

[loverssfevers]

terence doesnt annotate his books because there’s a high chance his borrowed them from the library or will be passing it down or selling it. if its a textbook- he has a parchment open next to him that he uses to write down interesting quotes or his thoughts along with the page number etc on it to look back on. but thats the most he annotates. If his reading a book his more likely to bring it up to his friends saying things like ‘i read something interesting today… I can’t stop thinking about it… what do you think?’ i think he benefits from conversation.

adrian underlines. theres no massive paragraphs about his thoughts but he will only only underline things he finds interesting and important. or quotes he really likes. i see adrian reading mostly… biographies lol but he does dabble in more. but he would be underlining inspirational sayings or things he thinks will help him or the team. even his friends tbh!! everyone thinks his so wise and he IS but thats cause he reads!

graham reading is rare i fear, annotating even more scarce. all his books, textbooks are all in perfect condition. id say if he was to read it would be a book his already read multiple times, one he knows back to front. it could be some sort of comfort. i dont see him actively seeking out another good book cause his attention just wont stick around for a book he isnt sure on. which is so valid! his just a hands on learner!

miles dog ears his books im so sorry guys but he does and he definitely cracks the spine bending that book ALL sorts. his much like terence where he intends to sell or pass down the book so he doesn’t annotate and if he does its with a pencil to rub it out later. he doesn’t write anything anywhere else though he just assumes he will remember (he wont) (or he might but it definitely wont be at the right time or right place).

[oo-li]

help. i would reach 30+ tags if i tried typing it all into the tags so. prepare for the yappa yappa outside the tags …. ( 𖦹‸𖦹)..

anyway memes for how this chapter had me feeling

ajsgsjgshdgbd hi i fell asleep yesterday reading this chapter (best way to sleep icl. if only i dreamed)

(i couldve dreamed of this au </3)

long tags. be warned.

to start: WDYM I WAS THE FIRST TO KNOW HOBGJOONG MADE THE COAT (kicks feet blushing)

the pineapple scent. idk why but it fits him. i enjoy it and each scent u assign to each member :3

next order of business: thinkibg about the end of last chapter and showing off softy san !!!!!! i wanna smother him in blankets and tell him its okay

also. giggling over how he drinks in this au knowing irl hes as much of a lightweight as me :3

ALSO ALSO. THE ALLEYWAY SCENE ??? im trying to like figure out who was there. like its gotta be mingi bc of the voice but who came out of the car ? hwa or joong ??

question is if swanette will remember the voice of who exited the car....

AND JONGHO MY BELOVED OUGH !!!!! i wanna bump into him on the streets meet cute style (delulu)

the maknae whisper !!!! such a good setup for us to know its him before he gives his name to swanette

AND I WAS WAITINF FOR HER TO FREAK BC JONGHO KNEW HER NAME BEFORE SHE EVER TOLD HIM !!!! safe in bed line !! so good !

wooyo offering to lace her up. melting. swanette is stronger than me lol (AND THE UNLACE LINE 🫠😵‍💫😵‍💫)

angel between two demons. the foreshadowing to the fucking first part of first chapter i fear.

side note but swanette fidgeting often is very relatable and me core so i really enjoy reading lines where she does repeated actions to soothe

as someone who stims with their necklace and clothes often. its just a very nice thing for me haha

speaking of reader being unhurt. remined me of the san icing her legs moment. blushes like a slut. ㅠㅇㅠ

WAIT I ALSO REALISED THEY MIGHT HAVE WAITED UNTIL SHE FELT NEEDED TO BE WALKED HOME BEFORE THEY STARTED TO DO IT REGULARLY ???

like yeah they dont feel the need to walk her home every night bc jongho n mingi watch over her and could protect her if needed

but idk. maybe its both good and a bit toxic of them ? toxic in the way of waiting for her moment of weakness ?

icl i wanna read this ignoring all potential toxicness in their bond with her but i fear that would ruin many beats of this story. sigh.

then again this isnt a sunshine and rainbows story. sorry maybe this tag wasnt nedded in my rambling ^^;

ANYWAY WOOYO JOKING TO COMFORT HER !!!! giggling and wiggling like a schoolgirl !!!

wtf was the restaurant scene. what was that. i know it means smth bigger but what !!!!!

tall and taller ??? our twin towers ??? WHAT DID THEY DO. DID SWANETTES HATE FOR CHEATERS BRING THIS TO IMARA AS A BUTTERFLY EFFECT TYPE SITUATION ?????

oh my god brat wooyoung teasing the fuck outta mingi. screaming over his touches longer longing. OH HOW I ADORE HIMMMMM

the S ring ? huh ??? do they have rings from seonghwa too ? couple items with seonghwa ? (delulu)

EVEN JONGHO HAD SEEN SWANETTE PERFORM IM SCREAMING OVER THIS SOBBING !!!!! i love baby bear soooo much ugh

oughhhh Julia. i do NOT like her. also im grateful the fellow members in the dance company dont realise san and wooyo love her bc i just know how much drama thatd bring

the foil of woosan. exploding. extrovert liking quieter cosy dates while the introvert likes outings. explodes pt2

i also love how wooyoung visibly lights up when swanette shows she listens and remembers what he tells her :((((

«San's gift of the coat» oh swanette. may u soon learn Joongie made it for u

ALSO ???? does the coat mean more than just joong quote unquote claiming her ? does her love her like woosan ?

has he been to a performance and no ond has known ????? i have many questions...

SCREAMING OVER THE NECKLACE BEING TUGGED !!! GOOD LORD SAN YOU WANT ME DEAD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

side note i realised i feel like im annotating a physical book with this /pos enjoy the yapa yapa rii ramblings

«hes mine just as wooyoung and you are mine» SOBBING THATS A DREAMMMMMM

one hug from yeosang would literally fix me. im not joking.

side note the way you write is so delicious i love how it perfectly blends in her thoughts and actions into the narration... its delightful truly

GENTLEMAN SAN SWOONING

:( swanette wanting to be a star like yeosang :(((((

«there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude» YOU TELL EM !!!!

ouch ouch ouch !!! i dont like the foreshadowing of san's discontent with the prima ballerina answer !!! :(((

not much to add to yunho in the headlines other than swanette being so innocent... ough it works so well for the story and it isnt annoying or nothing !!! adore it

rip newspaper ceo bozo u wont be missed /j

shaking the bars of my cage !!!! yeosang wanting to eat dinner with her !!!!!!! im in love. yeosang i love u

SCREAMING OVER MINGIIIIII OH MY GOD MY SHAYLAAAAAAA MY BABY

the figures in the upper window !!!! our matz !!!!

oh the tooth gems... i wonder if it holds a special meaning within ateez's hierarchy in this au

the diamond chandelier. melting thinking about mv san. sorry

KITTY :D

wait sorry i was rewatching the mv bc of the piano mention and im gonna explode. im gonna send an ask dw dw

the mv okay. FUCKIN YEOSANGS FLOWR OUTFIT GRAHHH (pulls at my hair) jongho with the cat and the piano !!!! you nailed the car too w mingi omg ?

MINGI IN FRONT OF THE DESK ??? IS THAT WHERE YUNHO AND HIS SCENE AT THE TABLE COMES FROM ???

gotta lock back into the story. sorry. (i didnt lie with my yapa yapa)

barking over iomt hongjoong mention. sorry. daddy? sorry (death by pans and pots)

ngl yunho scattering ashes on the table cloth gave me a bit of an ick 😭

he was curious about her. growls. didnt he think she was some doll >:(((((

okay. the whole dinner. (wipes sweat off brow and sighs in relief) yunho intimidating. hes the guard doggggg

oh my god but yeosangieeeee and mingiiiii my princesses. my babiesssss

god i love my yeowoosan. i do. i wont lie any longerrrr

mingi cursing had me giggling

ALSO JONGHO MY BABYYYYYY BABY BOY BABY !!!!! :D

the time jump.... kitty z we love u dont take it personally pls :(

oughhhhhh its gonna be hard waiting for the next chapter this is so good !!! ill make sure to rb again when i reread the chapters hehe

till the next update or when i reread them !!! pls take care haley !

yappa yappa over o7

like a waltz⎯ part 4: piqué.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter focuses on all the boys & reader except my beloved matz :(( (their time is coming.) series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: As trouble arises and your patrons spend more time with you, more attention gets locked on you. Their interest is thoroughly piqued by you. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence (choking, fighting, punching, etc), canon typical gore, blood, death, guns, explicit language, stalking, alcohol, smoking, bribery, lack of privacy, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes, suggestive themes, kissing, intimacy, angst, fluff, voyeurism sort of, obsession, infatuation, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, food descriptions, missing people, polyamory, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 20.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

piqué ; french pronunciation: [piːk], ‘pricked’… or to stimulate interest or curiosity.

Creeping out of the stage-door hours after a performance was a normal thing for ballerinas. The alley way was something all the girls were familiar with just as they were with the foyer de la danse. Its damp cobblestone, nearby rotting trashcans, and the barely lit path was their red-carpet entrance. They were not allowed the luxury of entering through the grand doors of the opera house with its tall columns, brightly lit lamps, and the many steps towards its shiny, gold-painted extravagance The only days they were allowed to enter through the front doors were when the opera house was closed and they were rehearsing. The petit rats were only welcomed with glamour when the rich weren’t nearby. They had the back-entrance. This was the ugly underbelly of the pretty façade.

Dressed in her pretty coat and her warmest layers, she had said goodbye to San and Wooyoung ages ago. But then, the Madame had spoken to her and a few ballerinas in her office, relaying some notes, insisting on the girls performing the rectifications immediately. So, there they stood in the rehearsal room, satin-ribboned shoes laced up over thick winter stockings and their day-dresses on. The ballerinas repeated their motions: turning in pirouettes, performing jetes, and piquing across the hall. It was only after the city’s clock tolled twelve times that the Madame allowed them to stop with a slam of her cane into the wooden floorboards. Then, after confirming each dancer had paid their weekly bill (YN smiled, wiping sweat from her brow as she was told her patrons paid once more), they were allowed to leave. The other ballerinas had all scurried home by the time she had gathered her bag and coat once more.

It was late into the early hours, past midnight and not yet morning when she finally left the opera house and crept out into the alley.

Pushing the heavy door open with her shoulder, the chill of night soaked into her bones with a whoosh. Shivering a bit, she adjusted her pretty coat closer to her body and prepared herself for the walk home. Her boots click clacked on the icy pavement as she exited the mouth of the alley. Looking this way and that, the streets were abandoned. Seemingly abandoned. Some of the candle-lit lamps even had fizzled out in the evening with no leeries about to relight them. She continued to walk along, humming softly until she heard the noise. Loud panicked whispers. A crackling fire. The crinkling of a tin-barrel. The smell of smoke. Ahead of her, dark smoke was tumbling out of a nearby alleyway, firelight lighting the brick-walls. She paused, her foot-steps slowed.

Click. Clack.

“You fucked up the deal?” It was frightened.

Click, clank.

“I didn’t mean to; I didn’t mean to. Johnny stole some cash from them, and then-“

“I don’t care! We needed this deal – the money, before he arrives – before we all lose –“

There was the squealing of car wheels and the smell of hot gasoline in the air. YN froze, her footsteps stopping. A car door slammed open, and there was a new click-clank of boots. A startled yell, a shuffle of footsteps, voices overlapping; there was a thud of a body hitting the icy ground with a yell. YN held her breath.

“Gentlemen,” the newcomer’s voice was gravely. There were heavy footfalls and a scrambling sound of someone walking backwards. Something hit a tin-can.

“B-B-Boss.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, about that –“ the other chuckled. 

“My money isn’t no laughing matter.” There was a thud like someone being shoved into a wall violently. The man groaned in pain. “You think I’m someone to be crossed? Where. Is. It?” the intimidating deep voice asked, lowly.

YN swallowed, frozen at the alley way’s entrance just out of view. When would she be able to pass? She needed to get out of here quiet and without being noticed. Or else… she was scared what would happen. This wasn’t the usual gang-dealings. Gangs would fight back, fist with fist. These men were scared.

“We can get it to you- We can- just give me some time, boss!”

“This is the second time,” the graveled voice grumbled; there was a low whistle, sharp and piercing.

And then it was quiet. There wasn’t even pleading, no whimpering.

Silence.

YN’s breath was held as she tentatively peered out from her spot. A sliver of her face was visible against the brickwork wall of the alley way. Smoke hazed the figures, but she could just make out the broad shoulders of the deep-voiced man, cornering another man to the brick wall. The man’s hand scratched at the many-ringed fingers that grasped his throat mercilessly. A gagging sound was heard. Not one of the gang-member’s allies moved to help them. Instead, they were all staring at the automobile.

A truck was reversed into the alley way. Black and large, it shined and flickered in the firelight. Its back-doors pushed open with a click, and men in dark masks tumbled out. Large, intimidating suited figures held bulky guns she had never seen before. YN had seen muskets, shotguns, and even a revolver once. These weren’t that. These were heavy, mechanical, and dangerous-looking. They piled into the alley, the metal of their weapons glinting in the firelight of the makeshift-barrel fire. The frightened figures strewn about the alley way were frozen-still; a few on the ground pleaded, praying. The masked men pointed their weapons at them warningly.

Her heart rate jumped.

This was more than just a gang fight – this seemed methodical. Frightened, her eyes darted to the other side of the alley, her path home just a few steps away. But she’d have to reveal herself… While they were distracted, she’d run. She would. She needed to get out of here quick. Like a mouse, she’d escape when the cats played with their prey.

There was the clink of a car door opening and a metallic thunk of it shutting firmly. A sigh echoed out into the air, disappointed.  

“Please, boss.” The figure held to the wall managed to splutter out.

His captor pushed him up the wall with a violent thud before finally letting go. The man gasped and gaped like a fish as the dark figure took a step backwards to look towards his accomplice. The figure exiting the car didn’t have the dark masks like the others. In this light and smoke, she could only make out the shape of him. Clean cut short hair, the trail of cigarette smoke, the gleam of his teeth. He tossed the cigarette to the icy floor.

Click, clack.

Click, clack.

Click, clack, BANG.

A gunshot went off. His hand was outstretched in a flash; the pistol in his grasp smoking. A man on the ground let out a yelp of pain; his blood splattered against ice and stone. His hand grasped at his leg helplessly in agony.

“Shall we send a message to your pals?” the new man insisted, cocking his red-hot gun again and aiming it at the man his companion had just released from a chokehold.

There was pleading; names babbled over one another until they were unrecognizable. “Sir! Mercy please!”

“I think we should,” the deep-voiced man commented, nearly growling out his words. “We knew you scum thought this was some game. And here you made it all messy.”

His teeth gleamed and glinted with his snarl.

“Let’s make it messy in return.” He finished, nodding at the other.

There was a signal, and the men fired at the others at the two tall figures’ command. Gunfire, loud, fast, and hot, blazed out across the alley way. Her voice escaped her, screaming out. Hiding quickly out of danger, YN jumped back.

“What’s that?” a voice bit out. “You got some dame in this? Find her. Get her!”

They had heard her. Ice flooded her veins. She turned to run, only to run face first into a broad chest. She screeched out again, her hand raising to muffle it. By the looks of his attire, he wasn’t one of the gang members from the alley way. No, this gentleman was dressed nicely in a midnight-black tuxedo with a black cummerbund sash around his waist like he had been at the opera house. His face was firm, almost furrow browed as he righted her with a careful hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t be in this mess; he looked so polished and unaware.

“Mis—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as she interrupted him. Her hands shoved unlady-like against his sturdy chest, wrinkling what had been previously a fine-pressed white button-up.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She hushed. “Now!”

Her eyes dripped of innocence, of protectiveness. Her fear was palpable. His intense brown orbs met hers and, without hesitation, he nodded. Surprisingly, despite his height and stature, he let her push and pull him away from the alley way and back towards the front of the now-abandoned opera house. She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, so they could stand hidden by the columns. 

Her boots click clacked with each step of the stairs. More gunshots rang out; footsteps followed after them. She stumbled a bit, yelping; the mystery man’s free hand reached out to support her waist before he pulled her into the cover of the tall columns.

She could hear gunfire echo through the street, and she jumped with each bang, bang, bang. The stranger’s hand rose to duck her closer to the column rather than hide against it himself. Curling into herself, into the man’s side, the column, her eyes shut tight. This was a nightmare. The masked figures would surely come after them. They’d pull him away and then her, and what would happen next? She was shaking. There was yelling, shouting. She flinched. A loud whisper.

“Maknae?”

No reply. There was a crunching of snow, the moaning of men in pain. There was a long pause; she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, heaving and thuds of something, and finally the squeal of car wheels going far away from the scene. The smell of gun-smoke and burnt rubber and gardenias (her rescuer’s cologne she realized) was all that was left.

A silence tumbled over the square like the cold water of an ocean’s tide, overwhelming and discombobulating. She stayed frozen for a long until a single finger poked at her shoulder.

“Miss?” he prompted softly; he shook her shoulder firmly then.

His tone sounded nervous, almost afraid. Of course he would be; she was afraid! It was frightening to almost be caught up in trouble. They had been so very close to being looped into a gang fight. She swore she’d never go down that alley or any alley again - ever. Shortcuts home be damned.

“It’s okay. You can open your eyes.” His voice was melodic, soft. Warm in this icy cold.

Her eyes opened tentatively, and she took in the sight of the gentleman in front of her.

He looked down at her with those intense deep-brown eyes, his dark hair mussed over his forehead. She could see his brows furrow at her in concern; his tongue peeked out to swipe over his top lip. His clothes, presumably for the ballet, were wrinkled by her man-handling.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing her over with a quick look.

He didn’t let his gaze linger, but he hadn’t let his hand up from her shoulder either. She swallowed and shook her head as she shifted her shoulders, physically gathering herself as she replied.

“I’m okay, sir. Are you?” she asked politely. Her voice trembled still.

His face smoothed into something she’d almost call relief before he nodded. “I am.” He glanced out at the road. “They’re gone.”

He spoke to reassure her, the tone firm and resolute.

“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked slowly.

He seemed not too disheveled as he took a few steps away from her. His eyes remained on the nearby street, monitoring it. There was no sounds of moaning or pain. What had happened to the gang members? The gun fire was horrible; she hadn’t seen much. Except for red, red, red. No. No! She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any reason for those men to come find her! They heard her. They had. Her hands rubbed over face; hours old makeup and sweat was sticky against her palms. It felt like blood for a moment.

It sent chills up her spine.

“Miss YN?” her rescuer prompted again, dragging her attention to him.

“No, sorry,” she babbled out. “No.” she confirmed firmly. Her arms wrapped around herself, tugging her coat closer.

“Are you sure?” the man’s brow raised.

“It’s easier to ignore these things,” she muttered out. “Safer. To not get involved.”

The man hummed low in his throat, melodically.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, trying to shake off her fear. “For shielding me up here. And running away.”

“You warned me. You saved me I guess,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

She smiled shakily before glancing back at the now-quiet streets. Her hands clutched her coat closer.

“Will you be alright, Miss YN?” he asked.

Her nod was preoccupied.

“I will be,” she told him, glancing up at him. He fit right in with the glamour of the opera house. She wondered why she had never seen him before. He was memorable. His face was handsome; his form strong in a different way to San’s but still imposing.

“I’ll be on my way. It’s late and I don’t want trouble. I’m glad that we are both aliv-okay.” she corrected.

“I understand,” he said. “You don’t want a chaperone?”

She didn’t even know him. She wished Wooyoung or San was here. She shook her head, and she took a step away, fiddling with her coat.

“I’ll be okay. Good night…”

“Jongho,” he answered, even if she wasn’t asking. “My name is Jongho.”

“Jongho,” she repeated. “Thank you again.”

He nodded, bowing at the waist.

“Good night, YN.”

He’d whisper, “stay safe,” but he knew he’d be following after her in just a little while. After all, her designated shadow was busy tonight, too busy taking care of business to watch over her. So, the once-street-mutt Jongho had been sent in his stead to watch over his lady. And Jongho couldn’t help but be curious about her. Even more now that he had held her in his arms and seen the sweetness of her soul in her eyes.

YN was safe in her bed that night when she realized she had never told him her name.

And yet he had said it.

-

Her motions were sloppy. Her pointe was weak. And her mind lost. She plied.

“Are you alright, honey?” San asked.

It was the next night - before showtime. San and Wooyoung somehow weaseled themselves into the boudoir before any other patrons could. Sometimes she wondered how much coin that costed them. The Madame had been strict with no patrons before shows – allowing the fragile privacy to warm up and prepare for the shows. It was so easily broken by the two men, but their eyes were only locked on her. And when she turned away to shimmy into a costume or fix a corset or a loose ribbon, they’d respect her. Glancing aside no matter how much temptation itched at their hands.

Wooyoung had offered once to lace her up, and he was met with a look of sharp disbelief – even if it was shadowed by a sweet blush. He hadn’t asked again, but he looked forward to the day he would be able to lace her up… and unlace her.

Tonight, they stood leaning against the barre as she continued to warm up. But, of course, San had caught her shakiness, her focus weaning.

His hand slide across her waist slowly, thumb caressing up and down.

“I’m okay,” she said honestly, leaning into his support as she lowered her leg off the barre. She flexed her feet and rose up on to a pointe for a moment before sighing out and turning to face the two men.

San’s hand ghosted after her waist, guiding her close as she came to settle between her patrons. She rested her bum on the barre between San and Wooyoung. Her pristine white costume made her look like an angel between two black-suited demons. Wooyoung flicked his cigarette bud into an ash tray he’d stolen taken from the front lobby of the opera house.

“I’m sensing a but,” Wooyoung teased. His fingers trailed lower that they had before, grazing over her the small of her back closer and closer ‘til… San slapped his hand, albeit lightly. She didn’t chuckle at his joke. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t joke at all. He frowned.

“Hm, swanette?” he encouraged again.

“It’s—things have been different around town recently. I just got scared last night,” she admitted, fingers trailing back and forth over the barre pole supporting them. Restlessly. “I think its just shaking me up today.”

“How so?” San asked inquiringly.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen two gun fights in the past month while walking home. That’s not normal. There’s all sorts of kidnappings or disappearances. It’s just,” she shivered, thinking of the fear that had clung to her bones since last night. “Scary.” Her arms wrapped around herself.

Wooyoung frowned, his thumb going to rub at her arm soothingly. He didn’t like her fear. He liked her smiling far more.

“You didn’t go to the police, honey?” San asked, brow pursing. Wooyoung glanced over at San.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s—not my business.” She shook her head a bit, not agreeing completely with her phrasing. “I mean, that’s how it’s always been. Ignore, walk faster, try to get away before being seen. If you mind your business, they’ll mind yours… unless you’re involved. I’m not. Never have been. But… there have never been gun fights. I’ve seen fist fights, even switchblades being pulled.” She shook her head again. “I sound silly. But I know there were gangs around town – I know the familiar faces of troublemakers, their tells – and they’re afraid. And if the monsters are afraid--”

She trailed uncertain. She sighed out again before her hands went to squeeze both of their hands that rested on the barre.

“Sorry, I’m just shaken up, that’s all. I’m spiraling a bit,” she reconciled. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung was first to cut her off. “No, no, pretty girl. Don’t apologize.” He soothed. “We don’t want you scared.”  

“You weren’t hurt,” San clarified. It didn’t even sound like a question but still he said it.

She nodded in agreement. “Nope,” she showed her bare arms and twisted this way and that. As if it’d prove she was unharmed.

“Someone helped me,” she admitted.

San raised his brow at Wooyoung before the shorter began to fuss over her.

“My scared swanette,” Wooyoung pouted, huddling close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped her in his arms. “Shall we walk you home from now?” he murmured. “San and I will be your personal bodyguards.”

“Uh, huh,” she teased lightly. “I’m sure you will.”

They’ve only walked her home on occasion. She knew it was in the opposite direction of the Ateez House. She didn’t expect them to walk her home. She wanted them to.

“Trust me, you’ll never get hurt around me if I walked by your side,” San promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as well.

“I’ll make the ground you walk and dance sacred.” Wooyoung whispered. “Drench it in holy water for you.”

She laughed at that.

“Stop teasing me,” she giggled. “You’re being mean.”

“We’re not teasing, honey.” San pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“I’m sure.”

“Shall I carry you home instead? Like a damsel.” Wooyoung teased, arms sweeping underneath her legs.

Wooyoung was growing bolder by the day, and it made her cheeks flush. She let out a shriek of laughter, dragging the eyes of the other ballerinas their way. San raised his brow at them. Unbeknownst to YN, San seemed to harden when looking at anyone other than Wooyoung or her. He spun her playfully. Her mind rightfully distracted from her fear finally.

“You’ll never step foot on ground again while I’m around, Miss Swanette.”

-

It was dark in the restaurant’s backroom. Smokey and lowlight with flickering candlelight. The servers, the cooks, everyone had been pushed out, locked out. The long table was bare of any meal. Water in crystal glasses sat in front of each man. At the head of the table, there was a decanter of amber liquid with two empty pristine glasses. It was quiet, so quiet that the squeaking of rats could be heard in the floor board. Nervous eyes looked this way and that; bodies shifted and fidgeted. The door opened, and all eyes were sucked to into their orbit.

Two figures stood side by side. Matching Rolexes glimmered on their wrists as they both adjust their suits. One shoved their gold-lined, midnight-black suit’s sleeves up with little finesse while the other took his time, slowly peeling off his suit jacket before rolling his white button-up sleeves up. Slinging his discarded jacket across one of his broad shoulders, he then adjusted his black tie, a long silver ring encompassed his pointer finger of his dominant hand. It almost looked like a claw. The other rolled his neck, the glimmer of multiple gold and pearl necklaces matching his sneer. 

Tall and taller glanced down the long table. Young and old sat there; most didn’t look like they had much. Fake luxurious hats with feathers, rings that didn’t sparkle quite right, and sweat-stained pinstriped suits. Some did have money. Their fat fingers rubbing their gold necklaces nervously. All of them shifted in their seats as the duo approached. One on each side of the table, they prowled.

“Gentlemen,” the one who spoke out first nearly growled his words in a snarl.

Rather than walk with his chin high like his companion, he tilted his chin to glare down the table. Dark eyes made darker still by anger. There was a laziness in his swagger as he walked behind one row of chairs; a hand trailed over each leathered chair.

“We have some… requests,” the taller one stated, a smile coming to his glimmering mouth.

 -

YN watched as Imara grab Dohyun’s hand. Her words were hushed in the loud boudoir, unreadable. But she could see the panic, the tears twinkling on her lash line.

‘Don’t do this please.’

She could read the pretty dancer’s lips.

The bank owner yanked his arm away, harshly. As if they hadn’t touched Imara’s body up and down like it was his for over a year. He glanced about as he spoke, mouth moving too quick for her to catch any words.

He shook his head again as he turned and left the boudoir.

Imara had to pay for her dues the next day for the first time in over a year.

-

Wooyoung stood by his promise. Each night since, he or San walked YN home, winding through the streets with their fingers interlaced. Most nights it was him. He liked the shared time for just them he said. Sometimes, he grew daring and would wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Like two lovers taking a stroll.

The following nights had been relatively calm; there were no gun fights, no gangsters. In fact, the streets seemed boring. Not a soul was seen around them except for, of course, her loyal following shadow. Not that she’d know. He was like a ghost, sneaking around the corners and alleys to keep them in his sight.

From the darkened corners of the streets, the figure followed after them night after night. His annoyance only growing as Wooyoung’s touches grew bolder in the solitude of night. With no one there, the idea of public decency was lost to the second-youngest. It wasn’t anything explicit. He just was touchy. Touchier than if it were daylight. Holding her closer, his touches longer, longing.

Longingly, he wanted to hold her; he wanted her to curl into his arms. Her shadow-man scowled deeply. Wooyoung truly was a brat he decided. Still, he continued to trail them from far away. But every now and then, Wooyoung would turn and give him a wink over his Swanette’s head. His hand sliding up her back, slow and teasing; his fingers tickled and trailed lower and lower on her waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.

Wooyoung’s smirk was triumphant as his eyes flickered over to the shadow in the alleyway. Wooyoung was teasing. Teasing both of them.

She’d huddle closer after, and the stalking figure would whisper out a curse. Jealousy itched at his stomach, and he was sure to return home with a scowl. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, and, while he was a gentleman, his thoughts felt not-so gentle. He wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Have her love him. He’d give her anything she wanted. He was already so weak for her, and they hadn’t even met.

He buried himself in the work that was piled on his desk, thanks to Hongjoong. Still, he’d get distracted, imagining fantasies of him and her. He spun a ring on the desk, the ‘S’ emblem on it taunting him.

Would he be able to see her perform soon? Seonghwa and Yeosang had visited. Even Jongho had. Maybe he’d convince Hongjoong to let him go to the foyer de la danse like Wooyoung and San were able to. Why couldn’t he?

The young man knew the answer like a bitter liquor.

Later that evening, Wooyoung and him would meet face-to-face. A smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he popped his head into the higher-rank’s office.

“Had a nice stroll?”

-

It was a Friday, and Julia with the red hair had been given a private dressing room. That was all anyone could whisper and gossip about.

It wasn’t large. It didn’t even have a mirror or dressing table yet. It was a small closet of a space. But it was hers - exclusively. Her name on a golden plaque had been placed on the door with the title ‘Featured Ballerina’ etched below it. There was space for more.  

The entire ballet troupe knew it had been paid for by her patron and wasn’t a result of any promotion amongst the troupe. She wasn’t prima; there was no way for her to achieve higher with no new show to audition for. It was all an act. It wasn’t talent. It was money and favoritism.

Meanwhile, Imara was despondent, cold as ice to anyone that gave her a pitying look.

Patrons came and went like the seasons – even if one thought they’d last forever, winter always came.

It made talking to either woman difficult. Julia was high on her excitement. The way she walked was like she owned the world. She would run off to her closet the moment she came off stage, even if there was hardly room for two people in the space, let alone warming up or staying warm. But, as YN exited stage left, she and the red head stumbled into one another with a clank.

They both yelped, flinching at the pain that radiated up their shoulders.

“Sorry,” YN apologized before her gaze rose and realized who it was.

“Hey Julia.” Her tone was sharper, less friendly than. Almost icy.

The red-head rubbed her shoulder scowling at the other before her own face dropped into an attitude of sorts.

“YN.”

It wasn’t said fond or with blooming respect like it had been before. Where was the respect that had been trickling down with San and Wooyoung’s support? Was it because Julia was still ever-higher than her? Was it because she had a dressing room now?

Maybe it was because they spotted one another outside of the ballet with their patrons by their side.

“Why did you lie to me?” YN spouted out, brows furrowing.

The other ballerina laughed out, too loud. She was almost heard over the orchestra playing a lofty tune as the White Swan jete’ed about on stage nearby.

“What are you talking about?” the other replied, dramatically hushing her tone.

“You said your patron never invited you out of the ballet.” YN stated. “But I saw you at the tennis match.”

There was a condescending tut that escaped the other, and it made YN’s eyes fall into slits.

“Oh, honey,” it was said cruelly. “You need to catch up. If you want to be like them, not be theirs, you must play like them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve gone on plenty of outings with my patron.” She stated, fixing her hair.

“So, you lied,” YN clarified again, simply. What wasn’t clicking? She lied to her.

“I’m not invited; I’m expected,” she said. “I go where I want.”  

Semantics. It made her roll her eyes.

“He pays for you just as mine pay for me,” YN commented. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was normal? I was worried.”

Julia finally sighed out.

“Listen, YN. Liars are the only thing that fill those rich homes. Even your boys.” She bit out. “You better learn the game, how to play it, and how to tell if someone is lying to you if you want to be upper-class so badly, YN. Otherwise, you’ll just keep playing pretend, and nobody wants a pretender.”

Then, without another word, the red head pushed past her with a huff.

-

The game. Julia had called it a game.

YN had always looked at the boudoir as a show. A performance between patron and protégé. Usually explicit. But Julia saw it as a game. What type of game YN wondered?

Was it chess? A game of wits? A game of checkers? A game of hopping to the next best thing?

Wooyoung and San didn’t see her as a game. This she knew in her bones. Their sweet words were too sweet. Their genuine excitement and care were a balm to her. But then, she glanced aside at Imara who was like a lost sock without her patron, use ambiguous and left lonely in the corner of the busied boudoir. She had thought the same thing about her patron.  

Doubt crawled in. Trickled in her veins. Even as the pair of men strode into the boudoir after the show per usual. San fixed his vest, the white button up loosened and less appropriate, but pleasing to the eye. Wooyoung finished his drink, handed to him by the bulkier man obediently as they walked.

“Hello you two,” YN greeted.

“Hi, pretty lady,” Wooyoung replied. “How was your evening? You were lovely as always.”

“It was good.” she said.

Wooyoung presented his cheek to her, expectedly. With their increase in dates and walks home, he’d become openly affectionate now. Not that she fought against it. If she didn’t press a kiss, he’d pout but when she did a pleased hum would reverberate through his chest like a cat’s purr. It made her beam; his happiness became her pleasure.

She pecked his cheek, quick. He grinned and quickly engulfed her in an embrace. His lips danced over her face. Tiny millions of butterfly kisses were pressed over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Giggles consumed her; his quirking lips hummed as he worked his way down to her jaw, underneath it, her neck, to her collarbone, before he was pressing fond kisses over her pearl necklace and up the column of her throat. Each one sent a tingle running through her.

“No pain?” San questioned, aware of how easily she bruised and ached.

She shook her head distractedly.

“Only a few more shows left anyways if so.” She commented. He gave her a scolding look. “Training will be less strenuous than performing. Surprisingly.” She chuckled, gasping out as Wooyoung pressed a deep kiss to the spot beneath her jaw. Not quite a hickey but close.

“Good,” the man replied. She needed a break San thought. He saw how her toes were a bright red through her tights.

“It’ll be nice to dance something new soon – but it’s bittersweet.” She just managed to get out.

San hummed out in agreement, pressing his own kiss to her forehead as he wriggled Wooyoung away from his honey to let her begin to dress into every-day clothing once more. She gave him a thankful look as she quickly went to change nearby. Her face was flushed, and her heart raced. How was her hair even more mussed from her bun? He hadn’t even touched it.

“I know,” San replied. “You must be excited?”

She smiled as she shed out of her feathers.

“Closing night is always such an experience,” she taunted.

It was. Full of celebrations, champagne, and influx of patrons spending their last pennies of the season.

“Will you be there?”

“Of course, baby,” Wooyoung cooed from San’s arms. She saw him ghost a kiss across his neck.

“We’ll be there for every closing and opening from now on.”

-

Wooyoung sat by her side, her hand in his as he gestured to the menu about this tea and that americano and this croissant. Their spread was already far more than either of them could finish. Large oozy cookies, steaming croissants with chocolate fillings, savory bite-sized tarts, and a large sandwich Wooyoung had already cut in half. One for him and one for her.

They had begun to have more dates like this; Wooyoung favored more intimate places such as cafes where they could cozy up close and share treats and talk while San liked to show her off at tennis matches and outings of public attention. She had liked it – but she couldn’t help but hear Julia’s voice in the back of her head.

Did she know her patrons?

Wooyoung smiled brightly and talked easily with her now; an air of comfortability was palpable as his fingers played with hers.

“Wooyo,” she prompted tentatively, interrupting his yapping.

“Hm?” he looked up from the menu, his face inquiring. Brows raised, and mouth squeezed shut.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away, swanette.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go and flexing his arms to resettle his sitting form to look at her more attentively.

“Why is it you introduced yourself as a Jung? And not a Kim?” she asked.

“Force of habit, really,” he admitted. “Hongjoong insists on us sharing his name.” He raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip.

“Because he helped you when you needed him?” she recalled.

His grin grew wide, amused. “Yeah.” He paused, biting his lip for a moment before he scooted closer. “He took me in basically. Which is why I consider him family, close as thieves just like Yeosangie and Sannie.”

“He’s at Ateez House?” she queried, fingering a cookie. Tearing it up but not really eating as she thought.

How many were at that mansion? Yeosang, San, Wooyoung… Hongjoong and Seonghwa as well?

“There’s a lot of you there.”

He nodded as he picked up one of the crumbs she was making and pressed it to her lips. His fingertips were warm from the hot ceramic of his coffee cup. He smiled fondly as she nibbled at it. Before raising the rest of the crumb to his mouth, licking at the chocolate melting on his fingertips.

She licked her lips as she watched, chocolate fragrant on her tongue.

“There are eight of us,” he told her. “Eight men in one house, you can imagine the chaos.”

He spoke as if they shared an apartment and not a grand ‘haunted’ mansion.

“What does he do?” she mumbled, half focusing on her attempt to solve the mysteries that had plagued Ateez House’s occupants.

“Eh, a lot of things,” he sucked at the crumbs on his thumb before reaching out a wiping a smudge at the corner of her lips. “This and that. Loves art and shows and spectacle. Is a bit of a collector, more than Sannie is – you know, San loves pretty things.”

She already knew where this was going.

“Like me, Wooyoung?” she teased, beating him to his flirt.

“Just like you, Swanette.” He nudged her tea her way, urging her to drink before it went cold. “C’mon, try this too.”

And like that, her mind was sucked into his fancies as he fed her a warm tartlet that tasted richer than any food she had ever had.

-

It was the first night Wooyoung and San would be unable to walk her home. Wooyoung was good at keeping his promise; he walked her home for many many nights. His babbling softened with his sleepiness which was cute. It was worth it to press a kiss to her lips before she went inside, and even more worth it when he caught the shadow of a figure watching them. He’d blow him a kiss – behind her back that is.

She was anxious to walk alone. Her stomach churned at the though. Wooyoung had apologized as they rushed off to something that needed their attention – him and San. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, promising she’d be okay. He’d see her tomorrow. Walk in the light and you’ll be fine, little bird. As if she walked anywhere else anymore – all her shortcuts scared her now.

It was too late to call for a carriage or a buggy to take her home, so it was the only way. Unless she wanted to sleep on the uncomfortable settee in the boudoir (and most likely be kicked out by the janitor early in the morning. She could hear the Madame already. “This isn’t an orphanage, Miss YN.” Despite the selection of orphans that made up their ranks.)

So, YN hugged her jacket around herself and began her trek home.

And it was so peaceful. Not a whisper, not a fight, nothing. The streets were abandoned – even the men who were stumbling home drunk were absent. It was absolutely empty. Except for her.

And her stalker, of course.

-

San was early at the opera house the next day– so early the doors to the boudoir weren’t unlocked yet. Instead, he lingered out front, pacing this way and that.

“Sannie,” she exclaimed at the sight of him.

How did he know she was going to practice early today? The question was quickly forgotten as she hugged him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm bear hug before he pulled back to press a kiss to her nose.

Sweet, that’s what San was.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, smiling affectionately up at him.

They hadn’t shifted in their embrace; San kept her close to him as he looked down at her. There was clear fondness there. His fingers rubbed up and down her back, over her warm winter coat.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “You look so cute in your coat.”

His words brought a flush to her cheeks. This was what she imagined when she thought of Julia’s words. No way could this be false. He was cooing over her, his touch reverent. It was different.

“I love it,” she replied. “It keeps me warm. Just like you.”

He laughed, warmly. He brought her close to his chest again, hugging her. It was funny. For as much as he claimed Wooyoung was touchy, San loved skinship. He liked to keep her close.

“I got you something,” he whispered after a moment, shifting one arm to reach into his pocket.

“What’s this?”

In his small hand (well, small compared to his broad form) sat a beautiful bracelet, teardrop-cut diamonds were linked together into a delicate yet unbelievably expensive gift.

“For you.”

San smiled like a content cat as he watched her fiddle with the pretty diamond bracelet. His dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the jewels admiringly. He loved pretty things and seeing her openly awe made him buzz with excitement. Carefully, he linked the clasp over her wrist and turned her hand over in his, watching the gems glimmer and shimmer in the gas light. He grinned.

“What’s this for?” she asked, brows crinkling curiously.

It wasn’t like Wooyoung’s gift – a month anniversary gift – or even San’s gift of the coat, something she had needed in all honesty. This was sudden. Strange.

His fingers brushed over the jewels before he spoke again.

“I was jealous that Wooyo had this pretty necklace around your throat.”

He leaned forward, fingering the pearls around her throat before tugging experimentally at them like it was a leash. They tightened with the pressure, choking her lightly and forcing her to lean closer to her patron. YN’s breath stolen, not in pain but in a flicker of excitement, surprise, pleasure. Her head tilted back to smile up at him. His fingers tightened around the pearls ever so.

“Oh, honey,” San cooed soft and sweet as he continued to tug her up by the collar of her necklace to capture her lips in a kiss. One kiss that devolved into many as he pushed her up against the door to the boudoir, lifting her lightly into his arms. Pressed against the door, her bejeweled hand tangled in his hair, tugging him ever closer.

They were lucky no one passed by as they devoured one another.

San may have been a gentleman, but his greed and power revealed itself slowly but surely.

-

Another man was missing. He had been a regular in the boudoir. A young man who spent his spare pennies to leer at them. He wasn’t missed by any of the ballerinas, but it was frightening. Too many people were disappearing or getting into trouble.

Her mother and the other ladies at the factory walked together now. To and from work, in case trouble arose. She had even pushed for YN to walk with someone to the Opera House for once.

“Your boy is a good one,” she appraised. “That Wooyoung walks you here every night now. Like a gentleman. Stick around him.”

-

San had invited her out to another tennis match. Wooyoung had been caught up in business (business she still didn’t know of, she lamented as they walked along the cobblestone streets. San had whispered in her ear that it was boring. Wooyoung was unlucky to not be here with her. And he, in turn, was ever lucky.)

She wore his pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist, and, every time he stole a glance, his face curled up into a pleasant happy grin. He looked sweet like a kitten.

His arm wrapped around her waist as they sat and watch Yeosang’s match. Drinking champagne, he’d offer her his flute every so often, and she’d sip away. It was an expensive brand, far more easy to drink than the piss-poor alcohol the ballerinas could afford for their own celebrations away from the leering men of the opera. Drinking the expensive liquor the men offered was never a good idea – it led to worser things.

Yeosang looked as pretty as ever. He reminded her of a ballerino the way he danced about the court.  Somehow both pretty and masculine as his form bent and stretched. Muscles rippled, leaner than San’s but not any less bulging. His arms flexed and she held onto the shared flue of champagne tighter.

San’s fingers stroked over her hip.

“You’re staring, honey,” he teased.

It wasn’t the tone of a jealous lover or a scolding of a respectable man. It was lilting, gentle. Her eyes looked away from Yeosang and rested on her date. He sipped his champagne, lips pursing and brows dancing. San’s lids were heavy as he grinned. Just as cat-like as earlier but more cheshire. Like he knew a secret.

He glanced away from her and looked over the athlete. His gaze mirrored hers, she realized. A fondness… no, an attracted air radiated in his deep brown orbs.

Was he teasing her? Was he genuine?

“Now, you’re staring,” she teased in return.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he replied coyly. He glanced back at her as he leaned in. “He’s handsome, hm?”

Her cheeks flushed at that and she looked away.

“San!” she exclaimed.

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held her closer. His lips pressed to her ear intimately. 

“It’s alright, honey. He’s mine. Just as Wooyoung’s mine.” He replied easily. “Just as you are mine.” His lips kissed her skin before he pulled away. Her hand shifted to grasp his in hers. His thumb grazed over her bracelet lovingly.

-

Yeosang greeted them after his victory; the zing of celebratory champagne on his breath stinging her nose as he leaned forward to wrap her into an eager hug. Daring for a second-meeting. It made her worry she had been too obvious with her friendliness, her intrigue… her interest in the athlete. She did like him after all.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he beamed.

The smell of his cologne mingled with his sweat. Masculinity mixed with the soft thyme and tea of his perfume. It made her want to hug him closer. He pulled back, his eyes burning with the same intensity beforehand. A straightforwardness. He wasn’t afraid to meet her gaze. His honeyed eyes were sweet and inquiring. Taking in every feature of her – the dark coat, the pearls, the diamonds. He smiled.

“Hello Yeosang. Congratulations,” she returned.

The man nodded respectfully before he glanced over her shoulder at the tall muscled man, eyeing Yeosang with clear adoration.

“San,” he greeted.

“Yeosangie,” San replied with a fond grin. His cheeks were blushed, maybe from the champagne they shared?

The athlete rolled his eyes lightly, playfully, before he settled his gaze on the lady.

“Did you make any bets?” he asked curiously, leaning into her with intrigue.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. She hadnt even thought of that; she was a guest after all.

“You know what? Yeosang’s right,” San retorted. His hand squeezed her waist. “Next time, you should bet some coin. We do all the time.”

Her brows crinkled, doubtfully. Not because she doubted Yeosang’s abilities. He was a powerful athlete. But betting… she swallowed a bit. She didn’t have much money to risk in general. She had just gotten used to having extra coins in her coinpurse. Her embarrassment burned at her ears.

“I’m not sure,” she said softly.

Yeosang eyed her before he hummed lightly. His gaze settled back on San, firmly.

“I’ll do it for you,” San said instead, downing the rest of his drink. His eyes reopened from the gulp and he shrugged. “I’ll buy you anything, honey. Everything.”

Yeosang laughed, lips curling. Pleased. He leaned in to whisper close. 

“You’ve got our San, sweetheart. Wrapped around your pretty finger.”

The athlete’s fingers were close by still, and they tickled her fingertips playfully. If he was any bolder, he’d be holding her hand. But instead, like a tease, he pulled back. Licking his lower lip and flashing a charming smile that only a socialite had. Easy and well-practiced.

“I’ll buy you anything, too, baby,” San purred towards Yeosang. He looked at the buff man with a raised brow. He always looked so sharp, in a delicate way despite his rippling muscles.

“I know,” he teased.

Yeosang raised a hand to squeeze the younger’s cheeks fondly. San smiled, pleased, a mirror of the grin he gave her earlier. His cheeks looked plump in the other’s lean long fingers. Yeosang chuckled, squeezing them again before his hand dropped and he turned.

“Come with me,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We can talk in the shade – the weather is horrid.”

He was right; the clouds were whirling and swirling into what was sure to be a downpour soon. They walked further into the tennis court’s shaded areas – the betting shop in the corner with a long line. People, mostly men, were cashing in their rewards. San’s hands went to rest on the small of her back; if she had glanced aside, she’d see he did the same to Yeosang, guiding the pair of them this way and that.

A rush of reporters, dressed for the weather with raincoats and large brimmed hats, flooded towards the winner. Yeosang slung his black tennis racket over his shoulder, smiling and waving at the flashing paparazzi’s cameras. Her eyes shut at the bright lights. San’s hand squeezed her waist and tugged her closer.

“Sir, congratulations!” There were cries of celebration and excitement. “Good show! Good show!”

YN wasn’t used to such fanfare, and it made her fantasize of the flashing lights she was hopeful for. One day… she glanced over at Yeosang. She’d be like him. Successful. In his own right. He grinned politely at a reporter, waving with a tight structured wave.

“Mr. Kim! Is it true you know Kim Yunho?” she heard over the chatter.

Yunho… she had heard that name before. But where? She didn’t have time to think as San guided them throughout the crowd, his hand curling over her hip to keep her closer with the writhing crowd jostling them this way and that.

The athlete didn’t reply, and he let his friend guide him through the swarm until they entered a tented area. Once the tent’s curtains were tied together, Yeosang huffed.

“I despise paparazzi,” he admitted, scuffing his feet against the concrete as he walked.

The space wasn’t special, but it was private. Scattered about were a few folding chairs, a wrought-wire bench, and a grey-green locker. Yeosang went to it, and opened it with ease. Within it wasn’t much. A folded assortment of clothes, a letter plastered to the locker’s interior, an extra racket, and a water jug. He placed his dark racket within and picked up the water jug. Raising the glass jug to his mouth, he took a big gulp. San patted her hip encouragingly as he moved away going to sit on the nearby bench. YN tentatively took a seat in a folding chair.

“Your performances of Swan Lake are coming to an end, are they not?” Yeosang queried.

“Oh, yes. They are; will you be able to attend closing night… or any show anytime soon? I’d love to see you there.” she admitted.

Yeosang’s lips quirked against the water jug’s rim before he pulled it away. Swallowing, he nodded. “I would love to see you once more, Miss YN. In your element.”

“You must encourage him to come backstage,” she turned to San. Less asking and more pressing.

He nodded in agreement. Easily swayed by his lovers, he leaned back in his seat casually.

“Is it like this?” Yeosang asked; a hand went to push back his locks, sweatied and damp.

The sight of his sharp brows quirking in curiosity sent a flare of excitement through her. He was so handsome; she couldn’t help but awe. San chuckled at her ogling.

“It isn’t, Yeo.” San admitted. “The backstage is grand and too open with too many girls running about half-dressed and men staring at them.”

Yeosang’s eyes flickered to him. “Even our girl?”

San glanced at her, head tilting. “Not as of late.”

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in between his lips. The look he gave Yeosang confused her – sharp, dark, and biting as he bit down on the cigarette before fiddling with a silver lighter. Yeosang hummed lowly.

“San and Wooyoung are polite,” she said, as if that would help the conversation. As if that was the topic at hand. “They’re the best gentleman in the boudoir. Honest.”

San grinned around his cigarette as he finally lit it. He knew she spoke the truth. She always did around him now. It made him happy to know she was so comfortable around them that she didn’t even notice the glares he sent the way of any man that dared eye her as she switched costumes.

Little did she know what would happen to one if they did. 

He puffed out smoke.

“I’d rather see you outside this boudoir then,” Yeosang commented, closing the locker’s door. “I don’t wish to see you improperly, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you in that situation.”

“We don’t mean to either,” San coughed out, the smoke scattering about bashfully. He turned to look at her with the gentlest of eyes. “You’re painting me to be a villain, Yeo.”

“No, I know,” she interrupted. “I know San and Woo mean well.”

They had said so since the beginning. Wooyoung claimed he didn’t even know he was playing as potential patron until San said so. And now, well, she felt safe around them. When she was with them, when she was introduced to Yeosang, it made her feel permanent. Not a doll on a music box to show off around the right clientele.

Imara never had this.

“Still,” Yeosang tutted. “I’d hate that. If I had those reporters watching every little move I made back here.” He bared his teeth. “I’m sorry you have to suffer that, sweetheart.”

-

“Do you want diamonds?” San asked.

This was the fifth time he had asked if she wanted some grand gift as they walked home. The umbrella San had kept them mostly dry in the drizzle. YN knew he felt bad about the boudoir. Especially at Yeosang’s commentary.

“No,” she let out a chuckle.

“More pearls?” Not his favorite thing, but they looked pretty around her neck and they were useful.

“No,” she giggled, swinging their conjoined hands.

“Then what, honey?” he whined a bit, sounding childlike as he squeezed onto her hand.

She was surprised this bulky beefy man was acting so openly whiney in public. He didn’t need the illusion of masculinity to cling to; there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude. Even if he was acting like a child.

“I’m okay,” she said. 

He licked the back of his lips. Doubtful. He frowned before stopping in the streets. The lamplighters were out and about, lighting the last remaining candle lights amongst the new gas-line lamps. He didn’t falter. He didn’t care if they were intimately close. His hand around her wrist as he pulled her close in the wet setting sun.

“What do you truly want, honey?”

What did she truly want? She smiled up at him. All her life she had only wanted and yearned for one thing – til Wooyoung and him and Yeosang all tumbled into her life that is.

“I want to be a ballerina. The ballerina prima,” she told him sincerely. Her hand rose to pat his cheek softly. “You are helping me get it.”

His lips pouted as he looked down at her. He didn’t like that answer. That was a harder request. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her lips, so quick one would’ve missed it if it hadn’t tasted of champagne and cigarette smoke. His sweetened coffee cologne wafted over her soothingly like a chaser.

-

“Extra edition!” a newsboy cried out.

YN had been walking towards the newest restaurant that San and Wooyoung insisted on trying. It was expensive. Far too expensive for her, but San insisted per usual and Wooyoung pouted that without her he’d be bored. So, here she was walking the streets towards the richer side of town. The richer side of town where all the newsies made their routes; the rich had money to spare.

“Star tennis player Kim Yeosang associated with Kim Yunho, the man released on 1 million coin for murder in broad-daylight! Shocking details revealed.”

Now, that caught her attention. Her feet slowed until she came to a stop. For once, it felt like the newsies had given just enough information to lure her in. Her coin purse pressed against her thigh was heavy. Heavy enough to spare a few coins to buy the paper.

“I’ll take one, Jack,” she told him, digging into her pocket to hand him the necessary amount.

The younger grinned up at her. “Thank you, Miss YN.” He shuffled the heavy stack around, untying the twine to present the fresh-printed and warm newspaper her way.

She nodded in thanks as she unraveled it and began to read.

-

San and Wooyoung sat in the corner of a restaurant, talking lowly in the shadows as they waited. Only to be interrupted by a newspaper being plopped down on the table. Their eyes shifted from one another to the newspaper. Doubtful, almost darkened looks were engrained in their faces before they glanced upward to see their swanette. Haloed by the light pouring into the café, her arms were crossed; brow raised. Their expressions softened immediately like butter.

“Hello, honey,” San rumbled. He tugged the chair out for her.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung added.

They hadnt looked at the paper yet.

“What the fuck is this?” she murmured, taking the seat easily as she shoved the headline their way.

Wooyoung licked his lips at her expletive. She didn’t curse much in the boudoir. Hearing it made his cell burn, biting at his lower lip after a moment. He glanced down at the paper; that hot feeling fizzled at the headline. He sighed, head rolling back, before he glanced San’s way. San’s expression hadn’t shifted; not even a twitch of his brow as he looked over his glasses at his partner.

“It’s a long story,” Wooyoung replied.

“I’ve got time,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Start with the part where Kim Yunho is living in your mansion. Kim Yunho, the man who shot a near-billionaire, dead, in broad-daylight after a supposed bet gone wrong.”

Her voice raised as she retold what the inky print said. She didn’t look intimidating in their eyes. Especially with her pout. San wanted to kiss it off her. Instead, he offered, “Yunho’s got a complicated past, but he only acted in self-defense.”

“He shot a man in broad daylight. Is Yeosang safe? Are you?” she worried. “Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung scooted close at that, hating the way her voice accelerated. San chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

“Oh, little bird,” Wooyoung hummed, taking her hand. “We are safe. We are safe. You don’t need to worry – is that why you are so upset?”

She frowned at them, her furrowed brow deepening. Wooyoung cooed.

“You are, oh, baby,” he hugged her, nearly joining her on her chair. “You are sweet, YN.”

“I’m worried; you are with a criminal,” she mumbled out, making sure her words were too loud. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Wooyoung stole a kiss. “You really are a doll, an angel. We are okay I promise.”

“You can’t just kiss me and tell me it’s okay. How? How is it okay?”

“Yunho is a free-man,” San reminded. “He didn’t break out of jail; he served his time; he paid his fees; he was let go. But apparently caught the attention of the press while doing so.”

“Poor Yeosang,” YN lamented suddenly. “He hated the paparazzi and now-“ she buried her head into Wooyoung’s shoulder.

The younger cooed. His hand going to pet at her back as he glanced over at San while her back was turned. There was a rustling of the newspaper, the crinkling paper being folded over.

“Yeosang will live. He’s been reported on his entire life. Yunho will not hurt us, promise, honey.” San replied. “You’re working yourself up. I’ll get you tea.”

There was a snapping sound of his fingers. A waiter obediently came. The man whispered his order as Wooyoung murmured to YN.

“It’s alright. It really is. You’ll see.”

San and Wooyoung’s eyes met once more.

They should’ve let Yunho meet her before this all happened; their shared grimaces said so.

-

Not even a day later, there were rumors about town. That night whispers about her patrons were all about the boudoir. The Ateez House truly was haunted some said. It had a killer living there. It made her scoff. There were seven others in that house – how could you build a house to be broken and haunted by one person?

The next day, a man from the newspaper company, the Cromer Chronicle, was missing. He had disappeared in the night without a trace. Or well, there was a trace. A letter saying he was going on vacation for a while. But few believed it.

Gossip roared. What was even more interesting, was that the newspaper headlines the next day were completely free of any mentions of Kim Yeosang or Kim Yunho.

But on her vanity, a letter rested with her name in an elaborate script signed by a certain man. The seal was the same ‘A’ emblem that both San and Wooyoung wore on a gold ring.

Miss YN.

You are cordially invited to join Kim Yeosang at the Ateez House estate for a night of fine dining. Casual attire permitted. I am so excited to see you again – if you will join me!  

Yours,

Kim Yeosang

“Did you place this on the vanity?” she asked the two men who sat side by side on a sofa. Sometimes they looked too close for comfort; tonight was one of those nights. Wooyoung was nearly draped across San’s chest, his head cradled on his muscular shoulder as he stared up at her.

“No, swanette,” Wooyoung claimed. “Our hands are clean in this.”

He raised his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers playfully at her.

“Yeosangie must’ve liked you,” San added with a smirk.

“You’d know,” Wooyoung muttered; San grasped the other’s hip warningly.

Wooyoung giggled out almost like a hyena, head tilting back in mischief.

“You should’ve seen how he looked at her, Wooyo,” San continued, his gaze flickering towards YN from over his spectacles.

“I know,” the other giggled.

“Will you be there?” she asked tentatively.

Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the thick cardstock Yeosang’s handwriting graced. She was used to their presence. They felt safe to her. They glanced at one another. San’s fingers trailed up and down Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung went to interlace their fingers smoothly. Squeezing it once and then twice.

“I’m not sure, honey,” San said. “We have business to attend to this weekend.”

“Sorry, pretty,” Wooyoung pouted at her. “We may see you in passing? If you miss us so much, we can meet you here early the next day. I want to hear all about you and Yeosangie.”

She smiled sweetly at them, flushing at the idea that the pair of them encouraged her to dine and possible flirt with another. It was strange but not… unfavorable. Yeosang was handsome. He was delicate but strong. Eloquent and interesting. Understanding. She liked his company. Despite the company he kept… her mind flickered back to the elephant in the room… or yesterday’s newspaper in the nearby waste basket.

“Is… Yunho –“ she asked, shifting this way and that. San couldn’t help but think she looked so sweet, so innocent, so naïve in her little feather tutu, all virginal white. “Is it safe for me - with Yunho there?”

They didn’t even need to look at one another. Wooyoung’s hand held San’s tighter as he shifted his gaze to simmer on her.

“Yunho would never hurt a lady, honey,” San replied, sincerely and instantaneously.

His hand outstretched for her to take. Which she did. It was San after all. Secure, sweet, strong San. He’s been so straightforward. She trusted him. His fingers caressed over her knuckles, “Especially you.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I believe you.”

“Yeosang will be excited.” San promised, raising her hand for him to press a kiss to her knuckles. “We can deliver the news to him when we get home.”

He pressed a peck to each knuckle before continuing up her hand to press kisses over his bracelet. He placed a final sweet kiss to her pulse before pulling away, and pulling her towards their embrace. San could hold both of them in his lap after all. Wooyoung slid further down on the settee until his head rested on one of San’s thighs. His lips curled.

“I will send a car for you, swanette. You won’t have to lift a foot,” Wooyoung promised, reaching a hand up to tuck hair aside as she sat on San’s rippling thigh. “Easy-peasy.”

-

It was her first time in an automobile. She had traveled in carriages and open buggies but never something so expensive as a brand-new automobile. Something so polished and metallic and rich. Her excitement was almost like a child’s; her smile was bright at the sight of the car sitting curbside. Its lacquer was a deep-olive color, gleaming in the golden sunlight peeking out of the rain-heavy clouds. The chill that nipped at her heels and the rain that itched at the sky made her thankful that Wooyoung had sent a car for her – even if every single one of her neighbors were being nosey. She could see their faces pressed to their windows with curtains shoved aside haphazardly. No cars came here. And certainly, no car like this.

The driver was tall and handsome, his dark brown hair styled sharply across his forehead. A multi-layered suit with shimmering gold detailing looked expensive on his form, a long-coat making his appearance look clean cut and sleek. Just like the car.

His entrancing eyes were dark, siren-like as they locked onto her form as she hopped gracefully down the icy steps. He felt his breath catch. A mix of excitement and fear tumbled through his stomach. She looked so pretty. Her hair was done nicely and modern. Her day-dress was a pretty (if a bit washed out) green color, complimenting the car’s hue perfectly. The sparkle of her pearls around her throat and her diamond bracelet peeking from beneath the sleeve of the dark fur coat made him smile. His full lips quirked into a smirk of a close-lipped smile.

His eyes haven’t left her form yet. Not even when her mother stepped out to awe at the car and the man waiting for her on the curb.

“Hello, doll.” He greeted her, polite with a deep-voice.

His hand, covered in multiple rings, opened the passenger door for her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, and he wanted to swoon then and there. But he stayed firm, icy, tall. It wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But he knew the way to her house; he had a car. And he was higher than Wooyoung or San in the hierarchy. He’d do what he wanted to do… as long as the Captain allowed that is.

His eyes didn’t leave her as she entered the automobile, tucking her dresses beneath her lady-like. He closed the door behind her and circled around the car to enter the driver’s seat. He took a shaky breath before entering; he felt like a school boy. When was that a feeling he’s felt recently? (The Ateez House would say every time he whined and pouted at them like a princess.)

The interior of the car smelt expensive, too. The well-taken care of leather, the wiped down metal accessories, everything reeked of rich maintenance. Her eyes ate up the new machine, looking at the gearshift, the polished controls. There was even a record player in the dash.

She never realized how rich they were. It surprised her. He ate up how her eyes widened, and she sat so delicate, hands in her lap as if touching something would bite her. She was so cute. His lips curled into a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she let out a little sound of surprise.

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating around her. She glanced over at her driver. He looked casual in the driver’s seat. One hand was on the wheel; the gleam of an expensive watch shone at her. He was leaning back, his hand cupping the back of her car seat carefully as he began to pull the car away into the street.

He didn’t want to intimidate her. Wooyoung had said she was already so nervous about Yunho. So, he didn’t speak, didn’t tease, didn’t do much except drive. He enjoyed her gaze on him though. He watched her so many times that it made the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burn pleasantly. He tongued at his canines, hiding his smirk. His plush lips pursed instead.

Her awe shifted as he sped up, her eyes flickering to the streets that passed by, faster, faster, faster. Faster than any carriage or bike or trolley. It sent a whirl of excitement in her stomach.

“This is my first time in an automobile,” she admitted into the silence.

“It is?” his voice was deep as honey, and it made her spine tingle.

He glanced over at her. He wanted to show her so many new things. He was glad to have one of her firsts. Wooyoung had stolen so many. Her first date, her first kiss, her first embrace. He’d at least be her first car ride – one of many. He’d take her in any of his cars – if they were in the countryside rather than the city, he’d show her how fast these automobiles can go. He’d impress her. They’d go one day, he imagined. They’d go all sorts of places together. He’d show her the world if she wished it.

She hummed out in agreement, pulling him from his daydream.

“It’s nice,” she complimented, shifting her seat.

A flood of rose-petal aroma consumed him. Her perfumed skin. She put so much care into this; into them. It was intoxicating. His eyes locked on the road, his fingers trembling lightly. He flexed his hand and gripped the leather of the wheel tighter.

“Thank you, darling.”

The car ride was a quick one. Ateez House was on the outskirts of the city but not too far away to be a long journey. Just far enough to be private amongst the trees and rolling hills. It looked more alive than it had ever been in all the years she lived in Cromer. While the estate was sprawling and the mansion itself large and imposing with a complicated layout, it always looked abandoned. But now, there were crystal windows gleaming with light, gardeners trimming bushes, and luxury cars pulling into a nearby car garage. People tended to the large fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway, despite the threatening rain that rumbled in the sky. The mansion’s greyness seemed to fade with the orange-light the windows poured into the evening.

It was a phantom resurrected; the flame of life was burning within the house once more.

Mingi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Ateez House, YN.”

Her eyes were locked on his home; winding over the overlapping rooftops, grazing the glowing windows to see if anyone was looking out at them. Two figures, dark silhouettes at most, stood on the upper floor, one short and the other tall.

Her head tilted in curiosity before they walked off.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him before going to open her door. “And thank you for the drive.”

There was a squeak of leather as he shifted closer suddenly. His arm outstretched over her, bracing over her chest. Her gasp was all the sound that filled the air between them. Her head turned and they were nearly nose-to-nose.

He was so close. The blood-orange of his cologne licked at her senses, mingling with the polished leather so refreshingly. He smelled intoxicating and sharp. His face was only inches away; the fabric of his long-coat brushed against her. His hand closed around the metal handle of the car door, gently nudging hers aside. He laughed out nervously. His eyes were wide and gentle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he flashed the sweetest grin she had ever seen, all toothy and bright. It sparkled… wait, he had diamonds on his teeth. His canines were adorned with gems that gleamed in the setting sun.

“Let me,” he bumbled out. He opened the door from within, before pulling his arm back. His cheeks were painted a rosy color that only made his flustered appearance look more sweet.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grin of her own.

She hoped he wasn’t too surprised by her own initial surprise. He was just trying to be a gentleman she realized. Bowing her head, she quickly ducked out of the car, closing the door behind her with care.

The only thought that filled his brain – besides the intoxicating smell of YN – was ‘damn you for winning, Yunho.’ After a long moment of breathing the remains of her deep into his lungs and watching her form walk towards his house, Mingi restarted the automobile with a rumble to guide it back to their private car garage. 

-

Everything reeked of extravagance. Tall walls with recess ceilings and wainscotting details. Gilded gold and glowing gas-lamps. Italian-Renaissance inspired tiles of saints, angels, and the Heavens were inlayed in the ceiling. The floor was patterned, a rich expensive textile making up the carpet.

There were butlers lining the walls of the foyer; all in matching midnight pin-striped suits. It was almost eerie. They were like statues, repeating over and over and over. Expressionless. Each face was stoney, eyes ahead. It reminded her of when the ballet troupe lined up in their matching leotards and were separated by height; row after row. Slicked back hair, delicate body lines, starving ribs. Identical and indistinguishable until they reached prima title.

None of them acknowledged her except for one, a rogue, that walked up and nodded at her politely.

“Welcome to the mansion, Miss YN. Please, come.” He outstretched his hand to encourage her further into the lavish space.

She curtsied, uncertainly. One of the many ghostly butlers took her coat as she walked down the foyer’s hall. Her kitten heels were soft against the carpet flooring until they rounded a corner. They click-clacked across marble flooring, polished ‘til she could see her reflection.

“Mr. Yeosang has requested a meal to be prepared at the West Wing. Please follow me.” The same butler spoke once more before he turned to lead the way.

Following after him, she was awed by the space. The very place that had been teased and taunted and ghost storied about was a gleaming jewel. As they walked, she realized how each hallway, each living space was opulent. The current path had walls that were painted an ice-cold baby-blue. Yet there were touches of warmth everywhere. Fine art in gold-leafed frames, elaborate trims around columns and the floor were the same shining gold. The art was all heavenly. Literally. Gods, angels, and disciples portrayed in blurred brush strokes, painted with colors that ached of softness. Everything was all gold, fluff, and magnificence.

The ceiling had multiple heavy hanging chandeliers of pure jewels. Diamonds dripped from its wire frame and sparkled in the gas-light. Everywhere was gaslit; she was surprised. No one had notice workers here and yet it was modern. Not a speck of dust or age present anywhere – besides the ancient art she supposed.

She slowed as she passed a large Renaissance-esque painting full of cherubs with feathered wings and glowing haloes. Squinting, she saw one figure wearing a ski mask. Huh? A cat meowed nearby. Her attention was caught, her head turning to the sound.  She stilled as she glanced down a nearby hall, one that seemed darker than the others. Doors lined each wall; all shut except for one at the end of that hall. It was opened just a crack, the siren call of a piano trickled out, and a little cat peered around its corner. The sweet cat was a midnight-black, almost blue-ish in tone; her tail twisted behind her as she meowed out again.

YN’s eyes lit up at the sight; the cat meowed again as it wiggled itself out of the doorway. Its paws and claws clinked against the tile, almost in rhythm with the piano music playing. Large green eyes peered up at her curiously as the cat approached; the collar around its throat was expensive – a leather thing with jewels, pearls, and a large silver bell that jingled out the closer it got.

She meowed at her again.

The piano stopped; the reverb humming out discordantly.

“Z?” a voice called out before a gentle melodic whistle chimed out.

The kitty’s attention was caught again, its ears perking up and meowing as if answering the call of its owner. It began to stroll back where it came from.

“Miss YN,” the butler’s monotonic called out.

Her head snapped towards him, answering his call immediately. She stood from the slight crouch she had taken for the kitten’s approach. Her butler stood some feet away, arms behind his back. She expected a disapproving look, but he provided none.

“Please follow me, Miss. We wouldn’t want you disappearing.”

That was almost worse! It sounded so ominous coming from his stone-faced mouth. She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she apologized before she quickened her pace to catch up to him.

“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

They continued to walk down this hallway and that hallway. Someone could easily get lost here. It was like a grand castle. Finally, after crossing some carpeted stairs, they were in front of a grand hallway of windows. As they passed, she could see a dreary exterior. Rain had begun to pour, fogging the outside in grey. But she could distantly see a maze of hedges, rose bushes, apple trees, and all sorts of gardens awaiting. She awed at the sight as they continued down the carpeted hall to come to a set of dark oak doors.

“One moment, Miss,” the butler warned as he entered the room quickly.

“Boss, er, sir – “

The doors shut behind him before she could hear any more. She was left alone. YN glanced aside at the wall opposite of the windows. There were inlayed gas lamps, glowing a soft yellow. A portrait hung nearby, painted in a similar style as the painting she saw before.

It was of a young man, a handsome one at that. His inky-black hair was slicked back in shiny waves, a singular strand curled over his forehead daintily. He was in all white, soft silken tunic and oversized bowtie of virginal white. Despite the softness of his attire and of the atmosphere surrounding him (he was almost painted with his own divine halo as if he was an apostle), there was sharpness to his midnight-black eyes and the smirk of his mischievous smile. His ears were pierced up and down, pearls and fine metals looping them in sparkles. A twinkle was shining at the corner of his grin as if his teeth gleamed in the heavenly light around him. He was beautiful, but she couldn’t help but feel like his dark eyes were staring her down.

The tall doors opened behind her suddenly. YN turned to see the reveal of a dining hall as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. But the aroma that wafted from its interior was far more intoxicating.

“Enter, Miss YN.” The butler encouraged, beside the door.

He held them open for her as she took a stride inside. Her lips widening into a smile as she prepared to greet Yeosang at the head of the table. But this was no Yeosang she realized as she gazed down the long, lavish table to meet the dark gaze of a stranger.

With a calculated look, he stared at her from the head of a ten-chaired, decadent table of hot food. It was more than she had eaten in months even with San and Wooyoung: sizzling side dishes, steaks covered in thick luscious sauces, cracked fruits that had a sweet nectar gleaming on them, chocolate-oozing pastries. An open bottle of red wine rested in a frosted chest of ice; eight crystal glasses sat upside down. One glass of red wine sat in front of her spot; the other in the grasp of the man’s hand. The ruby liquid gleamed like blood. A sea of lit-candles decorated the spare space of the table; the chandelier above keeping the candles instead of trading them for their gas-lit counterpart. The orange glow illuminated the intimate room in a hazy feel. Smoke trailed out of his mouth in a long plume, perfuming the delicious air with the heady scent of tobacco.

“Hello.”

His voice was a soft drawl. His close-lip smile was the same. Soft, slow, and confident. His eyes were illuminated by the flickering candles, making the darkness there look like a night sky spattered with stars rather than with blood. He tapped his cigarette into a crystal ash tray with his long fingers. Rings after rings curled over his knuckles; some sharp and some with the emblem ‘A’ just like San and Wooyoung shared. He raised the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag into his lungs.

“YN.” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke her name tenderly.

She should’ve left then, knowing it was different from what she had agreed to. She should’ve asked him where Yeosang was immediately – and who was he? But she already knew, didn’t she? She had worried about this man since she read the newsprint that bore his name.

She shifted, fingers tugging at her skirt as she heard the heavy wood doors shut behind her. The butler that led her here disappearing, leaving her with him. Her fingers pressed into the door behind her, tentatively. It didn’t budge beneath her. In the shadows of the room, she saw there were men lining the wall. Like ghosts, they didn’t speak or move – they simply stood like gargoyles surrounding a castle. One broke the line to pull out her chair opposite of her dining companion. Her eyes flickered back to the man at the head of the table.

“Hello,” she said instead. “Yunho.”

It wasn’t a stutter, but there was a pause in her words. Yunho’s laughter was almost fond as he chuckled out a plume of smoke before she was urged forward with a flick of his hand. Ashes splattered across the white dining cloth, sizzling burns into the fabric. She sat down in the chair pulled out for her; the servant pushed her in towards the table with a screech of the wooden legs against the wood.

The silverware in front of her was polished, gleaming in the candle-light. A perfectly folded napkin rested on the center of her gold-lined plate. The initial ‘A’ in a circle was embroidered fancifully in shiny black thread on the pristine white fabric.

Her fingers flexed against the wood arm rests of her chair as she looked down the table, over candles, meats, cheese, and vegetables at the intimidating man. He was far away, but perhaps that was the safest option for her.

“I like you already,” he proclaimed, his words solid and confident. His smile simmered.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the piles of food in front of them with a hand, swinging the cigarette and a trailing path of smoke about. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Her stomach felt tight with nerves, but even so it grumbled at the sight before her. Everything smelt so nice and rich and oily. Decadent. She licked her rosy lips, dragging her eyes up to look at him once more.

“Where’s Yeosang?” she asked finally.

He smiled, a peak of glimmering teeth shining in the candlelight. No, it wasn’t his teeth that shined – it was the inlayed diamonds on his canines that twinkled. Just like the driver. Just like the painting.

“He’ll join us,” Yunho reassured. “He’s running late from a previous engagement. I promise.”

Her gaze was doubtful. Why didn’t he just tell the driver to alert her? She could wait. She was used to waiting upon rich men.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was curious of you.” He stated as he raised his cigarette to his mouth once more. As he breathed out, he gestured again at the food. “Please help yourself. Wooyoung told me some of your favorites.”

There were her favorites; steaming and hot. Some tartlets from their recent date sat on a pearlescent serving tray. Tempting. Her stomach grumbled. Watching him carefully, she reached out a fork to stab into a piece of meat and plating it.

“I’m just a ballerina,” she claimed, eyes flashing to look at him as she picked up her utensils to cut at the singular item on her plate.

Yunho’s lips quirked up on one side before he glanced aside at a man. He nodded towards her and she couldn’t help but jump as a suited butler approached. Yunho’s gaze took in the small tension that rippled through her.

The butler began to pile up her plate with this and that. Steaming vegetables, savory pastries, fluffy mashed potatoes scented with garlic, sticky soy-sauce braised meats, pasta with a rich cream sauce, seafood with clarified butter. It was more food than she could finish. The amount of food laid out was enough to feed eight men.

“You’ve entranced my brothers for being more than just a dancer,” Yunho commented. “I wanted to see what was so special about their swanette.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. She felt like a trapped bird in a zoo being observed. She tried to imagine the boudoir around her rather than the intimacy of a dining table.

“I’m a good dancer,” she told him boldly. They like bold, an older ballerina’s voice was in her ear once more.

Yunho smiled. “I heard. I apologize for never attending a performance.” He said.

“You’ve been… busy,” she said. But not too bold. Another ballerina warned.

It was a dig, and Yunho knew it. She knew it too with how wide her eyes became. And still, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes simmered.

“Its no wonder Wooyoung took to you,” he breathed.

He raised his glass of wine to his lips and took a long sip. At the mention of Wooyoung, he saw the way the muscles in her face flickered. Lightening. Interesting. Placing the glass down, he leaned forwards, hand resting under his chin as he stared at her, intrigued.

She was intriguing. She had four members of the family wrapped around her little finger and here she was in his sticky webs. Yunho ached to figure her out, dive deeper. The vein in his forehead bulged a bit with his intensity.

His eyes felt magnetic. She had cut up her slice of steak into tiny bites at this point, but all he had done was stare at her. He had not a lick of food on his own plate. It felt more like an interrogation than a meal at this point.

So, she stared back. Her eyes met his, swallowing down her fear. The twisted mangled amalgamation of fear, intrigue, and something else. She was safe, she chanted internally. Wooyoung promised. San promised. He hadn’t done anything to her…yet.

She took in his appearance. While his eyes were a hypnotizing thing, his entire face was like one of a siren’s. Handsome with chiseled features. Sharp cupid’s bowed lips, sharp brows, sharp clean lines of his suit. A pair of glasses were tucked into his pocket… he needed glasses just like her Sannie. Her eyes darted up the line of his throat. His hand rose to bring his cigarette back to his lips. He tilted his head, the midnight-black hair swaying over one eyebrow smartly.

How were all these men so handsome? The driver, her patrons, Yeosang, Yunho. All breathtaking compared to the oil-grubby handed rich men of Cromer. It made her soften just a smidge, guard walls lowering as he breathed out smoke once more. Lips pursing delicately. Cheeks soft, she noticed. It was quiet. The clinking of her utensils against her meal was the only sound in the hall.

“Do you like dancing?” she asked. Dancing was safe. Dancing was all she knew.

“Enough,” he said. “My brothers like it more than myself.”

Brothers he said again. It was strange. Wooyoung spoke of the others as friends, dear ones – explained that the shared last name was something pushed upon them. Yunho embraced it.

“Then, sports?” she countered. “Tennis perhaps?”

Yunho chuckled lowly, and it felt like a tiger’s rumble. “No,” he laughed. “Not particularly – though, I have good hand-eye coordination.”

Her mind flashed to the shooting the newspaper relayed – a fictionalized imagining in her head bloomed. Him and his gun aiming and firing with ease, just like that man in the alley way.

“Oh,” she breathed.

He wondered if she knew how blatant her face revealed things. Her fear, her thoughts, her soul. It was strange though. Yunho didn’t want her frightened.

“I play against Yeosang often,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she repeated, a different tone trickling into her exclamation. Her knife scraped against the plate’s china, screeching out suddenly like a soprano at an opera house. Her gaze turned to it, surprised.

Her meat was completely shredded now. Almost inedible with how much she had sawed into it over and over.

Yunho laughed again, the sound warm and full. “Darling,” he cooed out, soft. “Please relax and eat. I insist. Yeosang won’t mind.”

Yeosang. Of course, that’s why she was prolonging it. Her smile was bashful and Yunho’s eyes swallowed it up just like she bit into a piece of her meal finally.

“Will you not eat?” she asked.

Innocent, sweet. Yunho’s eyes simmered as he reached out to grasp a fruit from an intricately weaved wired basket. He bit into a red apple, sharp and vicious. Juice dripped over his fingers, down his chin. He raised a black napkin to the corner of his lips wiping it away. His eye contact never ceased. Did he just wink?

“How long have you lived in Cromer?” he asked.

“My entire life,” she admitted.

He hummed out. “And the ballet almost as long I suppose?”

“Ballerinas are taught young,” she said.

“The best way to shape someone.” He snubbed his cigarette out in his ash tray.

“I suppose,” she admitted. “But I love dancing. Truly.”

It was spoken sincerely, passionately. He nodded. “It’s been mentioned. They say one can tell by just the way you breath. You are full of it.”

“D-dancing?” she queried.

“Love.” he countered. “Passion.”

Her eyes blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

“Do you love them?” he asked directly. His head tilted curiously.

The topic had shifted in tone dramatically suddenly. Her heart raced to its hummingbird speed once more. Her face blushed. Yunho drank it all in like the wine in his glass.

There was a clambering down the hall way, muffled by the oak doors. Her gaze broken from his, and she looked over her shoulder at the doorway.

“Here he comes now,” Yunho whispered.

As predicted, Yeosang came busting through the doors. His hair askew, his eyes burning with the cruel fury she had only seen on the court. His elegant clothes looked rumpled; the softness of his sweater that cut into a deep v revealed more skin that she had seen of the sportsman yet. A rose was pinned on his chest, gentlemanly, and yet somehow tempting her to stare at his chiseled chest more. A decorative scarf wrapped around his throat, disheveled.

He glared at Yunho with such contempt before it was washed away at the sight of her. He glanced her up and down, quickly as if his lingering gaze would be scolded. Appropriately for such an inappropriate action. His lips parted gently; his rounded face soft with a gentle blush.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he immediately apologized, head bowing.

The long strands of russet-brown hair that framed his face swooped over his cheeks. His hand rose to tuck one strand back. “I was caught up with something unexpectedly.”

With little show, she stood, discarding her utensils to greet him. Her smile was soft, reassuring, genuine. She ducked her own head to catch his gaze – he was still glaring through his lashes at the man at the head of the table she noticed. But when he saw her own face come into view he straightened sweetly, awkwardly. But in such a charming way somehow. Yeosang was so charming even in his anger and discomfort. She didn’t want him to be in discomfort.

“Its alright,” she reassured him.

“We’ve just been chatting,” Yunho chimed from the end of the table. Unhelpfully.

Yeosang adjusted his leather gloves nervously, tugging them off finger by finger.

“I see that.” Yeosang rumbled.

His eyes settled back on her like she was his seas’ moon.

“You look lovely, YN,” he complimented. Her smile lit up the room, he swore.

He licked his lips, deep voice humming out as he looked over the table.

“I-I,” he gestured to the table, the meal he had ordered the chef to prepare, “I have those tarts you liked at the café on Riverfield Street.”

She smiled at him; he was so cute.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “And I saw. They look perfect.”

He breathed out a little, fixing his clothes once he tucked his gloves into his back pocket.

“It’s been perfect,” she tried to reassure him, sensing his anxieties. His blooming nerves. Her hand reached out to squeeze his.

He jolted at her touch, just enough for her to catch it. His ears were red. Yunho’s grin was wide, sparkling.

“Thank you for the invite.”

“Of course, I wanted –” he glanced at Yunho’s leering gaze. “I wanted to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“And we shall,” Yunho agreed. “Sit, Sangie. Let’s eat.”

A butler appeared to pull out a seat for him. It wasn’t near either of them, in fact. It was the third seat to the left side of the table. Yeosang glanced at the butler silently before pulling out the chair directly beside YN and seating himself.

He was served a selection of the meal, silently. She went to break the silence.

“How are you?” The headline still brandished itself in her mind. His words about paparazzi left a lasting impact.

Yeosang huffed out. “Well,” he replied. “News articles come and go. I’ll remain on top of my game regardless.”

Yunho nodded steadfastly from across the table. “It’ll be nothing by the next game.”

Yeosang offered her a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’ve survived worse.”

She nodded solemnly. “I don’t like it still.” Yunho watched the interaction carefully. His brow quirked.

“How are you liking Cromer?” she asked. She was used to asking men how they enjoyed the show… but that wasn’t an option here when the room lulled into silence.

“It’s different. But I’ve seen places as beautiful as Aurora, as desolate as the Strictlands, and as rural as Paradise. Cromer reminds me of Aurora in a different way.” Yeosang explained. “It feels homely.”

She smiled. “Ateez House is yours, correct?”

“Its in the family,” Yeosang replied.

“What do you think of it?” Yunho queried.

“Its very nice,” she politely said.

Yeosang tilted his head fondly at her. “Meaning?”

Her brows crinkled in surprise. “Its—nice?” she repeated.

“Shall I remind you what San encourages you to do, sweetheart?”

To be honest. How did he know about that? Her neck and ears became a soft pink in the candlelight. Swallowing, she glanced to the side.

“It is genuinely nice – its just… this house has been called haunted my whole life,” she told them. “There are ghost stories linked to this mansion. It’s strange being here and seeing that it is, in fact, not rotting or some supernatural force of nature.”

Yeosang chuckled out, smiling sweet.

“There are stories?” he leaned in. “Do tell!”

“I love a good gruesome story,” Yunho commented.

But for some reason, the way the words lilted in his tone didn’t make her flinch like before… in fact, was he teasing her? Her eyes flickered from Yeosang’s open form to Yunho. His cheek rested on his hand; elbow pressed into the table as he eyed her with Yeosang.

He smirked at her as they met one another’s eyes. He nodded, urging her. And so, YN went into the ghost story she had been told as a little girl, sitting among the tutu’ed training ballerinas while her mother did alterations on the prima’s show-stopping costume.

“The story goes that this house was home to a Captain,” she started, twirling pasta about her fork as she spoke.

Yunho and Yeosang’s eyes locked.

“The Captain was no ordinary captain; he was the fiercest pirate king of all. With his crew, the Black Pirates, they terrorized the seas and reaped countless treasures. When he grew old and hoarding like a dragon, he docked at Cromer under a false name. Ateez House was built upon blood-soaked jewels and coins; they say the pirate captain passed in his vault, hidden deep in the mansion’s basements. His bones are still there, unrested. His ghost terrorizes the house and refuses to let any soul except his pirates’ prowl.” She dramatically told.

Her fingers wiggled sensationally. “Or that the treasure was haunted by those they robbed and killed mercilessly. Their ghosts remain and haunt these halls.” She shrugged her hands landing back in her lap. “The story changes every so often.”

“What a story,” Yunho breathed. “Do you believe it?”

“It’s just a story. Maybe there are some real parts but… ghosts aren’t real. I’m not that silly of a girl.”

“You aren’t,” Yeosang commented immediately.

“But everyone in town knows it, so it sticks,” she told them, reaching out for the glass of wine in front of her and taking a sip.

“Cromer loves its gossip.” Yeosang commented.

“They’re stuck in their ways,” Yunho added.

“What do you think of Cromer?” she redirected to Yunho.

He took a small breath in. His previous grimace faded and his brow crinkled as he looked at her thoughtfully. His lips pressed together before replying.

“At first,” Yunho said, tilting his chin. “I did not like it… but now…”

His gaze felt hot, ever present. There wasn’t a barrier of modesty she often felt with other men. Yeosang’s was intense. San’s was careful, observant. Wooyoung’s eager and challenging. Yunho’s was steadfast. Confident. Even the men in the boudoir knew there were limits. They had their wives. They had their image with the other men within the boudoir itself. Here she felt both hunted and examined. Admired but equal. He was looking at her soul.

“Now, I like it.” Yunho purred. “Very much, darling.”

He placed his silverware down with a clink. He leaned forwards, hands pressing into the table.

“There’s more to you that meets the eye,” Yunho commented. “I see that, so now I will let you speak your mind, truthfully.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was he going to ask her about her love again? In front of Yeosang?! Her eyes remained on him steadily. Her ears burned.

“You’re frightened of me, yes?” he said.

It was strange to feel relief at the confirmation of something so horrible. Because she was still nervous around him, for his boldness frightened her just as much as his previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes shifted to her, widening as he watched her nod.

“Sweetheart,” he reached out for her hand, petting her phalanges but not grabbing it. He simply wished to reassure her. Just as she had done for him earlier.

“San and Wooyoung said I didn’t have to be,” she replied. She licked her lips.

“Ask me what you want to know.” He stretched back into his chair, neck flexing as he met her gaze.

“Is it true? Should I be frightened?”

“That’s not it,” he laughed a bit, lip curling almost scornfully, scoldingly. He raised a brow, head tilting as if weighing his options. “But no, you don’t need to be frightened. Ask another.”

“I don’t have another question.” She countered, only to state simply and firmly. “You shot a man.”

And he smiled. “I did.” Yunho confirmed.

“On purpose?” she asked.

“Yes, darling.”

Her blood felt cold. She hadn’t met someone like him and it sent her stomach into a cramping mess. Yeosang did take her hand now. Interlacing his fingers softly. He glanced over at his elder as he rose from his chair. Oh, Yunho was tall. Very tall, in fact. With them sitting, he looked giant. His heels thudded against the floor.

“Why?” she asked. Yeosang felt her hand tighten in his grasp.

“He tried to fool me, steal from me,” Yunho stated, walking towards them. “Lied to me. I don’t like being played.”

There wasn’t a moment for the words to sink in for YN. Instead, like a game of tennis, she shot back.

“So, you shot him? Just like that?”

“For your information, yes.”  

“That’s frightening.”

“Yes.” Yunho was beside Yeosang now.

“But!” Yeosang was the next to interrupt. “If you must know… Yunho isn’t some cruel man, sweetheart. It was done in self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” she asked doubtfully. Wooyoung and San said so themselves as well.

The air that Yunho carried seemed to be more than that. He wasn’t exactly proud, but he was at peace with what he did. Yunho’s face pulled into a tight thing as he rested a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. They both looked at her inquiringly.

“He pulled a blade on Yunho,” Yeosang interjected. His gaze flashed to her. “He has the scars to prove it.”

They had an answer to everything. It was self-defense. Not a thing of violence. Of necessity.

She stared at them

“It wasn’t… he struck first?” she repeated slowly.

They glanced at one another before smiling at her with dual grins. Yunho tapped his fingers on Yeosang’s shoulder before he pulled back. A hand went to his chest, gentlemanly and earnest in nature.

“Yes.” He ensured.

Her eyes flickered to Yeosang. He had been a sensible figure – likeable, nothing formidable. If he trusted him, if her Wooyoung and San did. Yunho spoke with such authority. He valued truth just like San did.

Her defensiveness, something she didn’t even see in her body language, softened. Yunho’s sigh was one of understanding as he walked back to his seat, stealing a glance at her. He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the cande light.

“YN.” He spoke her name luxuriously. “If there is one thing you should know about me. I don’t do mess.”

He plucked a dessert from his plate, biting into the chocolate with slowness. Calculated. He kept her gaze. It sent a thrill through her; he sent a thrill through her. Swallowing together, the corner of his lip curled. He raised a napkin to his lips, gentlemanly.

He was a gentleman, straightforward and powerful. He had to be telling the truth.

“I’m not a messy man, darling-doll.”

The dinner didn’t last much longer. Yeosang encouraged conversation; Yunho threw in some topics, mostly of things she had mentioned to San and Wooyoung. It struck her then that they shared many stories about her. They must’ve talked about her a lot. It made her cheeks flush as red as the chocolate strawberries Yunho ate.

Their eyes were hot on her; it felt like they were captivated and it made her heart race. Like she was on the stage.

She liked it.

Surprisingly, her two patrons made an appearance at the end of the meal. Wooyoung, of course, was the one to pop his head into the grand dining room.

“Swanette!” he beamed at the sight of her.

Yunho took in how her shoulders softened and her chest heaved at the sight of Wooyoung, at his voice. He smiled, softer and truer than any other smile he shared tonight so far.

Wooyoung was dressed the most casual she had ever seen him. A fashionable patterned white-and-black button-up shirt was barely buttoned, revealing a black ribbed tank-top beneath it. His hair was pushed back casually and messy; a rolled cigarette was behind his ear. His slacks were a deep black, loose and flowy rather than a structured fabric.

“Woo,” she barely got out, her mouth dropping at the sight of him.

He smirked, arms slinking over the chair and over her shoulders.

“Hello hyungs,” he greeted the others, barely glancing at them before ducking his head and pressing a less-than-decent kiss to her mouth. Smothering and all consuming. She squeaked into it. A ringed hand rose to cup her guide her head in the kiss, icy cold against her flushed red cheek.

Yeosang and Yunho chuckled out. The sound was a mixture of fondness and annoyance. Yunho’s brow twitched. Yeosang’s hand held hers tighter… he hadn’t let go, of course. But YN hadn’t noticed the entire dinner and dessert. ‘Til now. Her fingers flexed in his as Wooyoung swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Alright,” San scolded Wooyoung, his hand going to the back of the shorter’s neck. He nearly pried him off her. “Wooyoung!”

“I missed her,” Wooyoung said simply, flushed face and breathless.

His hot breath fanned over her rosy face; his lips were spicy and left hers burning. Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he stole another kiss from her lips. San pulled him back again with a harsher hand.

It was then she got a glance of her other patron. San had freshly washed hair, the locks combed out and dripping over his forehead. He wore a similar tank top to Wooyoung, but in a white shade. Shockingly, he had a pair of workman’s light-washed blue jeans hugging his thighs. Thick thighs, muscular shoulders, tawny honey skin. It was tantalizing, tempting. But when she looked over his face, her mouth dropped in surprise. A bruise kissed at the corner of his lips; his sweet smile tarnished with a purple-red watercolor splotch.   

She couldn’t help stand immediately, half in the clutches of Wooyoung. Her hand rose to cup San’s cheek.

“Honey!” he exclaimed out in surprise.

He didn’t shift away, actually bending at the knee for her height, but San was certainly surprised. He had taken the lead between them often. YN rarely made the first move with either of her patrons. But what he had mistaken for sexual tension only led to pain. He was shocked when her thumb’s brush against his lips made pain radiate up his face.

“Ow,” he whimpered, frowning. His brow furrowed.

Yeosang laughed nearby. “He forgot he’s hurt,” the athlete commented.

“It’s been a while,” Yunho added, finishing his drink as he watched the interaction play out.

San’s lips pressed together, blinking rapidly before taking in the concern look on her face.

“Oh, honey, I’m okay,” San tried to reassure. His hand rose to cup her hand that was pressed to his jaw, thumb brushing over it soothingly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You just said ow, you liar,” she scolded him, brows furrowing. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he swore, tilting his head to press a kiss that stung his mouth to her palm. “Promise.”

“This town is getting more and more dangerous,” she breathed out.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek softly. His pretty face marred. Without his glasses on, she could see how his eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s candlelight. Soft and starry, as if she hung the world.

“You are an angel,” he murmured. “I’m okay. I’ll live.”

“Wooyoung, will you tell me what happened?” she prompted, not moving. Wooyoung pressed to her side made a humming sound.

“The streets are rough around here,” he said. “Someone really ought to fix that.”

Yunho huffed from across the long table.

San smiled at her again, eyes falling into half-moons. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips stung to do so, but she was worth it. “Thank you for worrying.” He told her. His stomach did somersaults at the thought of her jumping to his aid.

“Shall we walk you out, swanette?” Wooyoung directed instead, head tucking over her shoulder to look at the table. “Yunho has a meeting to attend unfortunately.”

Yunho hissed in through his sparkling diamond-inlayed teeth. “Does the—”

San nodded.

He breathed in through his nose before offering YN a simmering smile. Full of warmth. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss YN. I hope to see you very soon.” He bowed politely before with long-legged strides left the room. Wooyoung winked at him as he passed.

“I’ll join you,” Yeosang offered YN. “You must come visit again soon – in the spring, the gardens are beautiful. We could have tea or -”

“Yeosang likes to take long strolls through the gardens – even if it’s raining,” Wooyoung revealed, finally peeling himself off her back to look at the selection of food laid out. He plucked a grape from a platter.

“You gossip like the upper-class now,” Yeosang commented, raising a brow.

Wooyoung laughed brightly at his friend before popping the fruit into his mouth. “Eh, they rub off on you – I had to keep up with you, Sangie.”

Hmm, it was an interesting interaction. Playful but also… strange. She knew their pasts implied they hadn’t always been wealthy… Yeosang had been a protégé tennis player at a young age but how did he meet Wooyoung? Was it all because of Hongjoong?

San’s hands squeezed her waist. When had both of his hands shifted there? “You sleepy, honey?” he asked.

“Too filling of a meal,” Yeosang complained as he rose to his feet.

As if the food was her reason to getting lost in her head.

“It was perfect,” she countered, taking a step back. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Thank you for gracing us,” Yeosang replied, offering her his hand. She took it, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A picture of a gentleman. But he was quick to wrap her arm up into his, pulling her into his side now. Surprisingly daring for the Yeosang she knew.

“Shall we?”

Their exit seemed to take forever just as before. Yeosang lead her down hallway after hallway after hallway. It almost felt like they were navigating a maze. San and Wooyoung framed the two in; Wooyoung on her side and San on Yeosang’s.

“How was Yunho?” San prompted, tentatively. “He didn’t scare you?”

“Did he frighten you – when you were alone with him?” Yeosang repeated, arm tightening around her.

“No, no, he wasn’t frightening,” she reassured them. “He was a surprise certainly.”

“Ah, Yunho was sneaky. He doesn’t like the opera, so he found his own way to meet you,” Yeosang sighed. “I feel like he caused the trouble for me on purpose, so I’d run late. You’re popular around here, sweetheart.” He squeezed her arm teasingly.

“Who else here?” she chuckled. Seonghwa? Hongjoong? She hadnt yet to see either of them – like they were ghosts.

“You’d be surprised,” Yeosang commented before leaning in and admitting. “I quite like you, too.”

He made her cheeks burn red, and Wooyoung giggled.

“She likes you too, Sangie,” he crowed out, fingers reaching to tickle her waist. “I’ve seen her blush over San, over you… Do you like Yunho as well?” Wooyoung queried, his words becoming less and less playful. They were almost inquisitive, as if testing the waters instead.

There was a crack as he lit a match across a gold-leafed frame. He placed the cigarette that was behind his ear to his lips and lit it.

“I did,” YN told him, honestly, as they continued through the foyer. Wooyoung chuckled out, smoke puffing out in front of his face in surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so fast.

“Not like that,” she interrupt his giggles, face burning. “I just—”

Looking down another hall they, she made out Yunho’s form, tall and slim walking down the hall with purpose. His back to her as they turned into the foyer finally.

“He was kind. Even if he was a bit intimidating… he wasn’t cruel or harsh. Just… confident.”

Yeosang smiled close-lipped. Wooyoung blew out his smoke to the side, the plume passing over the butlers’ faces. Not one flinched or coughed.

The smell of expensive tabacoo wafted over her face warmly as Wooyoung walked in front of them to push open the large heavy doors of the mansion.

“So he wasn’t so scary after all?” he teased. “Wait ‘til you meet Hongjoong and Hwa-hyung. They’re properly-”

“Wooyoung, don’t tease her,” Yeosang defended.

The younger raised one of his hands in defense as he held open the door for them. “I’m just saying – she got pass the guard dog.”

“She hasn’t met Jongho yet,” Yeosang giggled lightly. “He’s truly got a bad case of looking gruffer than he is. He’s our baby.”

Jongho. She had only heard that name once, and it was that night. Her ears rang.

“Jongho?” she queried softly.  

He had been at the opera! He was one of their ‘brothers’.

“Or Mingi--Ah, here he is now,” San commented, smiling over at the man standing in front of the green-painted car.

“Hello,” the driver greeted, voice as deep as earlier. His eyes flickered to her arm in Yeosang’s.

Wooyoung smirked at him. “Mingi, I didn’t know you were driving today,” he said.

“I thought you and San were doing business today.”

“It was a fast deal.”

Mingi looked unamused, his siren-eyes looking him and San up and down. “Uh huh.

“You know a Jongho?” she turned to Yeosang as they spoke.

“Jongho is the youngest of us. You’ll meet him soon, sweetheart,” he reassured, squeezing her arm. “He’s busy too often. I think they overwork him; he’s just a boy.”

“He’s only a year younger than us,” Wooyoung commented with a pout.

“He’s a baby,” San agreed offhandedly.

“I think I—"

“Is she going the hell home or not?” Mingi bit out. Before looking bashfully at her. “Sorry, doll,” he apologized for his gruffness. “I’m not used to a dame being around.”

“Its okay,” she mumbled out. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Jongho was at the opera… without his supposed family knowing.

Mingi pouted at that. “No, its not.” He admitted. “Don’t take disrespect.”

Her distracted gaze rose and nodded softly, not really processing his words.

Wooyoung tsked out. “Here he goes about respect,” he sighed out. “Hurry up, swanette, or else we will be here for hours.”

There was a rumble of chuckles in the group. Yeosang squeezed her arm once more before pressing close to her ear, cheek to cheek. A whispered “next time it’ll be just you and I, hm?” was hushed into her ear before he unwound himself from her and allowed the others to hover about. “I’ll see you next time, Miss YN.”

San pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “And again, I promise you, I’m fine.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline before guiding her into Wooyoung’s arms.

He was warm and smelt of smoke. His grin was playful, wolfish as he leaned down and stole her lips into a kiss. He was getting bolder and bolder. His kiss was hot, a lick of his tongue into her mouth this time. She squeaked and he chuckled deeply.

“Mmm,” he moaned as he pulled away just a fraction. Wooyoung smiled as if he was innocent but his teases were devilishly. “Perhaps I should call you little mouse instead of swanette.”

She pushed at his chest, playfully. Wooyoung tugged her closer, grinning. Her face was akin to a rose.

“Let her go, Wooyoung,” Mingi said from the side. His face was sharp as he glared at the other. He didn’t appreciate the teasing. “She must be tired.”

Wooyoung heaved a sigh as if this was the hardest thing to do. He pouted at her before stealing a kiss, pressing a peck to her nose. “Fine,” he relented, unwinding her from his spider web embrace.

“See you soon, pretty. Mingi will make sure you get home safely.”

Mingi nodded steadfast before he offered her his hand.

“Shall we, baby-doll?”

-

Next time, when she woke, it was to a cat’s sandpaper-esque tongue licking her cheek. Little tiny licks with the familiar nuzzle of her wet nose, Z investigated her like any other day. The little more-blue-grey-than-black cat sniffed at her, the talkative pet meowing loudly. Her green eyes blinked slowly at her before she nudged her cheek with her forehead once more.

Her body didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It didn’t feel like anything. Whatever drugs she was on, they were good. She blinked at the kitten, slow to do anything once more.

She was still in Yeosang’s room. The smell of him was all around her, Jongho’s familiar gardenia aroma mingling in the sheets. YN tried to move. Pushing herself upwards was easier than before but the slightest shift in her legs reminded her of the heavy casts that wrapped her ankles. The pain nothing like before but there was still the zing up her knees that made her pause. Her breath caught as she stared at her limbs before her.

Her reality. Bedbound, grounded. It was a depressing thought. Even more depressing when she realized she wasn’t sure what day it was nor what hour. How many shows had she missed? Did her mother know she wasn’t well? Was she just the same as those folk written about in the papers? Missing and forgotten.

She let out a shuddering breath as she laid back into the fluffy luxurious pillows, contemplating what to do. Should she cry out for them? Hongjoong was the last face she remembered but she didn’t want to see him. Or Seonghwa. Or any of them. Really. Anger burned her throat like the nearby fire place. Z’s whiskers dusted over her arm, nudging at her for attention as she let out another inquisitive meow.

“Leave me alone, Z,” she mumbled into her pillow. The little tongue peaked out to lick her again. “Stop, Z; go away.”

Her tone was raising with her rising grief. That was the only way to describe what she was feeling grief – a mixture of hoping, pleading, that everything had been a dream only to be reawaken to reality. Anger and sorrow clashed like cymbals in her head.

The cat nuzzled her again, and she snapped this time.

“Z, go!” Her hands shifted the quilts aside in a huff, making the little cat hop away, back arched.

“Z, come here,” a voice, melodic as it was masculine, called. The doorway creaked open, the gaslight in the hallway illuminated his figure, bulky in the best way. “Love isn’t in the mood to play.”

She frowned over at him, even if Z hopped off the bed and went towards Jongho eagerly. Her little body pressed against his leg as she passed him, purring softly. He smiled after his kitten before his gaze settled back on his love bed ridden.

“Hi love,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry,” she told him.

“But not in pain,” he smiled.

The youngest crawled up onto the bed, sheets rustling and ruffling as he settled beside her. Jongho wasn’t one to be silenced by a glare or dirty look. He was made for this world – his hyungs’ beloved aegi was used to getting what he wanted. And she was his baby. His love. He wanted her.

She turned her rageful eyes his way. He simply smiled just like the others. “I know,” he hummed. “I tried to warn you.”

He had. He cried to her last night… or a few nights ago? Her anger was quenched by those tears now. Her eyes softened just a smidge, and Jongho took a mile. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. His arms wrapped around her ‘til she was caught in his embrace, warm and coddled.

He indulged in the way she didn’t pull away or yell. He had heard her shouts at Yeosang’s attempts at affection.

“What happened? I remember waking up in pain – why?” she murmured into his chest. Trying to gather information from when she was asleep.

Even now, she felt safe in his embrace. It caused a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

He heaved out, her head rising and falling with his chest. “You had an infection – the doctor said it was possible dirt from that alley way. It entered your injury for too long. He fixed it.”

“Is he alive?” she mumbled.

“By Yunho’s grace.”

She felt the ebbing and flowing rage, the despair rush over her again. Almost as if sensing it, Jongho shifted, his chin tilting into his chest to look down at her. He moved to tilt her own chin to meet his gaze. Fiery passion burned there. He liked it better when her passion burned for her dancing… but he supposed it had to go somewhere while she was incapable.

“It’s the way things are,” he told her. “Stop fighting it.”

Stop fighting and give in. Look what fighting did. Just let them control her…

YN scoffed. “I’m not some doll,” she bit back. “Or some—"She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Jongho’s eyes ached, and he reached for her hands. He cupped them in his. His bloodstained ones. How many time had he scrubbed away ichor? Dug it from under his nails? Her hands were dainty.

“It’ll never touch your hands,” he interrupted earnestly. “You’ll never bear it. Our work. Our lifestyles. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m bearing it now,” she whispered to him, voice breaking. “I’m afraid of you.”

He frowned, his face firm and thoughtful. He was always thinking her Jongho. He never stopped. His thumbs brushed over her palms, his forehead pressing to hers intimately.

“You tried to leave,” he said. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You understand what that means – I’m just something you control like your butlers and your members and your-.”

“No.” Jongho interrupted soft and earnestly.

“You are no pawn, my love. You are our priority… our treasure. Always.”

[platypusinplaid]

My absolute favorite quote, it means so much to me <3 

[hahahax30]

Honestly, reading Lili Elbe's *actual* memoir, I have come to the conclusion that the Danish girl's author is more fucked up than I had thought.

He treats Lili's sporadic nosebleeds as a fantastic aspect of the story, as if her intersex condition had granted her a mini uterus in her nostrils, when in reality it was most likely a result of the anxiety/stress her dysphoria brought in (literally a two-minute search will tell you you can bleed from stress and anxiety), because they were only present when 'Einer' came forth, never when she was embodying Lili; with Lili everything was happiness and tranquility. And he doesn't even *mention* the 'mysterious fits of depression [...] and violent pains [...] disconcerting fits of sobbing' (a direct quote) that came with those nosebleeds, and which he would have somewhat explained them when, physically, Lili was fine. Instead he just implies the nosebleeds are there because she has rudimentary ovaries, and that's low-key infuriating.

Not to say that he completely sexualised Lili's childhood? The only actual thing she did as a child was get into fights to proof she could be 'like the other boys' and play with her sister's dolls when no one but her sister was looking. She didn't have a friend whose penis she gawked at 24/7 nor who tried to assault her at like 11.

Just, please, I wish I could get the Danish girl out of the market and erase it from existence. Or at least have a preface written by one of the numerous trans women (which I'm not lol, but I'll leave one under the cut) who've rightfully complained about how horrible the book is, because I know the Danish girl gets randomly recommended to people who have had no contact with trans people in their lives in order to 'understand' trans women, and that's fucked up.

By Gwen Sund:

I hate this book on so many levels. I will say one good thing. It is a very well written book. The prose is lovely and the author does a good job with descriptions. His handling of the characters and parts of the plot though are pretty offensive. I will not go too far into the history and how inaccurate this book is because as the author mentions in his afterwards Lili Elbe is the only character based off of a real person. Everyone else is completely made up. It's okay that the story isnt' true to life, but that opens up an entirely different terrible can of worms that I'll get into. The order of events is different, how things turn out is different. This is "Base on a Real Event" in the same way Exorcist 2: Bazuzoo Boogalu is based on a real event. There will be some spoilers, so if that bugs you stop reading here. Just know I can't recommend this book in any way. I barely recommend the movie, but at least that doesn't have as many issues.

My biggest problem with this book is the handling of Lili. This author made up pretty much the entire story, so even if there might be historical context for some of the details he still chose to describe Lili the way that he did. I am a trans woman and I found his handling of her to be one of the most offensive that I have ever read. He treats her being trans as multiple personality disorder. Since he chose and created so much of the story I'm not going to give historical leeway on this. He chose to do that. Trans people do not experience their identities that way. We are the same person before and after transition. It's not like a demon possession story where over the story the demon slowly starts taking over. It would have been so much more powerful to have Lily come to terms with herself and her past. Have her find a way to love herself in her own skin. Something more true to the trans experience. This story is nearly entirely fiction, so there's no reason why the story couldn't be told in a more positive supportive manner.

And that point ties into another thing. This book won the Lambda Literary Award for Transgender Fiction. For one the author is cisgender so why didn't the award go to a trans author. They existed. Susan Striker, Jennifer Finney Boylan, Kate Bornstein, and Leslie Feinberg were all actively writing in the year 2000. And that's just a few trans authors at the time. There were plenty more. On top of that the book is very bad at showing the trans experience. It is a slap in the face. I can't even say 2000 was a different time and Lambda Literary has moved on from that because after the Danish Girl movie came out they worked with this author again to help him set up a trans charity. They support this story. They still support it. That sucks. I hate it.

One more thing with the handling of Lili is that she has no agency in this story. People keep making decisions for her, they move her around, they treat her like a child, and they make medical decisions for her. The only decision she makes in this book is the one that killed the real life Lili. Some how Greta is treated like she's supposed to be this super supportive partner, but she just controls Lili to death. There's a part in the book where Greta starts telling Einar to become Lili constantly. Not to be supportive but because Greta has become famous for painting Lili and she constantly wants Lili to model for more paintings. What in the world is supportive about that? Greta literally uses Lili for personal financial gain to the detriment of Lili's mental and physical health. Multiple times Lili asks to stop and is told to stay put.

While we're on the topic of Greta let's just talk about how weird that character is. She is very loosely based on Lili's real life partner Gerda. She was a famous painter that was part of the Art Nouveau movement. She is an important painter in history and for some reason she is turned into this bland concerned straight lady. She is so much more than that and I suggest anyone reading this maybe look up some information about her. The end of her life is sad as hell, but the real life Gerda is so much more interesting that Greta.

Speaking of endings I don't understand why the author changed Greta's true life story so much that she gets to live happy and rich while Lili still ends up sad, lonely, and probably dead from having a uterus transplanted into her. Why the hell did he go out of his way to give so many of the cis characters happy lives only to keep the trans character's sad ending? Why? That's awful. That isn't support or visibility. That is voyeurism. "Look at the old school trans woman that thought she could give birth and died. Oh isn't that weird?" Screw that. If everyone else gets happy endings then cut the last chapter, and have Lili exit the story with the guy that asked her to marry him. Have them go off to New York and live to be happy. This is fiction, give fiction Lili the chance to be who real life Lili didn't get the chance to be.

I hate this book. I hate how many awards it has gotten. I hate that so many cisgendered people have made money on this story. I hate it. I don't necessarily hate the author, I just hate this story. Why did I make myself read the entire thing?!

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

I’d disagree with the anon that Paul was “incapable” of love, but I do agree he was very distanced, and pretty cruel (to women) when he was younger. (It was unfortunate they bought into the love at first sight myth, but he was also a charmer, and dropped affection and got colder after fucking them.)

But I just can’t see romantic interest on Paul’s end. I’m sure he loved John, but a lot of the “sexual/Romantic evidence” really can just be as construed as platonic love. I feel there may be some confirmation bias looking for “clues”. (Not an attack on anyone, but some of the analysises seem to try too hard, really).

He does make references, with the whole “calling him babe during concerts”, and “in bed” but that could just mean he’s not uncomfortable with coming off “gay”. He has a quote about it somewhere I think. He’s supportive of the community at any rate.

This is kind of my own bias, but at times I think he…plays it up a little during the present day? Again, I’m positive he did love John a lot, but with how he is, a charmer, good at manipulating his image, he knows there is a benefit to building up the “magical” Lennon McCartney dynamic. John’s dead, and the old conflicts have faded, so he has no reason not to. I don’t think he’s anti-social, or a psycho or anything, but he certainly does put a lot of thought into his image, especially now, with how he wants to leave his legacy.

I’m less knowledgeable about John, and the speculation about his mental illnesses, but on his end, I can certainly see it. Maybe he’s just blind, but the looks are very much…yeah. He does seem to rely Paul a lot, and hold him in very high regard (REGARDLESS of what those old male biographers might make of him). You just know he was suffering over Paul, poor bastard.

Not sure if anything happened. I think Paul knew though, and either ignored it, or was kind, knowing John wouldn’t act on it. OR he didn’t notice! With the whole “we shared beds A LOT. you would think he’d make a pass at me, darling~”

I guess that’s how I see it. I don’t really have strong feelings on the nature of their relationship, or want them to be “confirmed”, so I try to be as objective as possible! Not a shipper, but not a male biographer. In fact, I was very put off learning the ship was a thing at first! With every fan base “having to” ship the main male leads, that’s what I thought this was. But after three years, reading actual books, primary stuff, I’ve began to change my mind on its legitimacy, and this was my conclusion. But new information can always change!

(Sorry for the long long analysis, god! I just took my adderall and I should go eat! Feel free to block me for spam/harassment.)

Yeah, this is basically my big mclennon dilemma: did Paul love John?

Of course he loved him, but I mean did he harbour any homosexual feelings towards John - and I just go back and fourth on that a lot.

In my last response to an anon I wasn’t necessarily trying to argue that Paul was romantically/sexually attached to John, because all in all, I don’t believe he did - but it probably came off that way because I didn’t particularly like the way the anon had phrased some stuff (like calling him “a master manipulator” and “incapable of love”) and so I just sort of wanted to show that the relationship was more nuanced then just “john was simping for paul”. My overall point with that response was more so that whilst I think Paul struggles in showing real affection and emotions, I don’t think he was incapable of love prior to Linda. I think he did really love John (in whichever form of love you want to take it: romantically, platonically etc.)

And so my point I guess wasnt so much that Paul was always capable of love (because I think he did at least love his family, his close-friends, probably Jane etc.), but maybe more so that he was always capable of intimacy with another person, though he struggled with it.

But yeah, he was quite cruel to a lot of the girls he slept with in the 60s, but I wouldn’t say that suggests he was incapable of love (i know thats not what you’re saying but other people might interpret it through that lens) I would just say he was young, dumb, ridiculously rich and famous and not emotionally mature enough yet to really empathise with most of those girls. Not trying to completely excuse him, but like, i dunno, i always just try to view people from the most human perspective. Everyones an twat sometimes yknow

I also really struggle to see romance on Pauls behalf towards John - the only times I think “wait but maybe he did fancy john back” is when I read some of his lyrics (like in ‘Coming Up’, ‘Yvonne’s The One’, and to some extent ‘Here Today’ - though I think interpreting Here Today as strictly platonic love is still a valid interpretation). I mentioned this in a different post though, that analysing his lyrics just isnt particularly convincing for me, because it feels more like speculation - and also as someone who does write songs, I know that a lot of lyrics just arent as deep as we wish they were. It is really difficult to be truly introspective and honest in a song, without exaggerating or hyperbolising or fictionalising any autobiographical aspects.

I do see your point with Paul possibly playing up the “Lennon/McCartney m a g i c” - im not entirely sure how much I agree, but I do agree to some extent. I think he’s always been very image conscious, and being in what is probably the all-time most famous pop band definitely wouldve heightened that. Even as a teenager I think he’s always just had this natural charm about him, and that tends to stem I guess from a need to be liked; I think you can see it in every interview he’s ever done to be honest. Its not necessarily a bad thing, (because id take a charmer over a rude knobhead any day) but I guess it sort of just shows that Paul is flawed like everybody else. Also, just read @mothernatures-sons tags and I agree with her - Paul just knows when to be a nice person! Nothing wrong with that! It isnt manipulative like the last anon suggested, its just how most people are: polite :) Ive heard a lot of anecdotes from people who have worked with or met Paul and the majority of them say he was a just a nice guy. Not saying he was never an arsehole (cause yeah he was pretty cruel to those girls in the 60s) but I think overall, hes a pretty good guy 👍

On the other hand though, you could also say that superficial journalists are looking for superficial answers - and Paul knows what the people want to hear. But occasionally ill hear an interview that does seem more intimate then most - I havent listened to it in awhile, but the interview he did with Sean I remember felt more honest to me then most. And when he said he’d like to spend the day “in bed” with John, to me that felt like a genuine and fitting response. Because, whilst it has sexual connotations, it also just feels like he’s saying he’d just like to sit around, chat, dont chat, just whatever with John for a day. Like he would just like another moment of intimacy with him.

I think we are pretty much in agreement on most of this though! At first I was also like “nah, mclennon isnt real, teenage girls just love shipping guys!” (I am a teenaged girl and I can confirm this lol) but then it just sort of became apparent to me through reading more and more about their relationship that there probably was something more on Johns behalf. If John wasnt in love with Paul, then it feels as though a lot of things he said and did just dont add up (the big one for me is him marrying Yoko so soon after Paul married Linda - like I really cannot come up with a heterosexual explanation for that!)

But when it comes to Paul, though ill have moments of doubt, I dont think he was in love with John (homosexually) and I do think a lot of the evidence on Pauls behalf seems like a stretch (but like you, im not having a go at anyone, because I understand that it is easy to carried away, plus its fun - but realistically, most of Pauls evidence just is not convincing to me). He’s comfortable with his sexuality, and I really do try to respect that and not force a gay interpretation of quotes or songs from him, unless it is genuinely making me question his sexuality and mclennon.

PS dont worry, I didn’t take this is spam at all!! And also, I would never block someone just for disagreeing with me! I enjoy discussion and I think its good to engage with people who disagree with you! To be honest, id only block someone if they were purposely being a real arsehole <3

[actualclownfucker]

ughhhghhghhgggggg book quotes about barty, literally choking on my love rn

i rly went off w this one, apologies… if there’s anyway i can make it more organized or easier to read, lmk

YES! omg okay!! i thought there was a line where barty said smthn about seeing voldemort as a father figure but i hadn’t had time to go back through my screenshots from GoF yet and remember and i was NOT about to misquote my son !! isn’t it so fucking good? there’s so much to overanalyze and god, i’m so ready to do it

your hc about barty also having a psychosexual obsession over daddymort? correct. voldemort is everything he wants in a father figure, everything he wants in everything. and barty, having grown up with bcsr, doesn’t have a good sense of where to draw the line. where wanting to be voldemort’s son ends and wanting to be fucked raw by the man starts LOL it’s all one blur of craving affection for him (which we also see in his relationship with his father, mother and sirius, sexual attention is easy for him to understand)

and voldemort has no interest in any sort of relationship with barty outside of Leader/Follower and a bitch to do his bidding. but he’s smart and if letting barty sit next to him sometimes, saying “i’m disappointed in you…” and just giving him a small sliver of attention from time to time is what he can use to make barty even more loyal to him, he’ll do that. because barty is undeniably valuable to him (12 owls, after all!)

and this is enough for barty to convince himself that voldemort feels the same way about him. voldemort is far too busy to spend too much time with him after all, but look at everything he does do! it’s more than bcsr would’ve ever dreamed of! and oddly enough, for the first time in barty’s life, being voldemort’s bitch, he’s happy. he’s useful, hell, to voldemort? he’s even good! and that parental approval he’s been looking for, for so long is finally fulfilled

also “closer than a son” tf is that, barty? lovers???

(and yeah lol, barty has like, the most obvious oedipus complex i’ve ever seen)

that’s such a valid point! there’s no way anyone would know about voldemort’s past, unless voldemort explicitly wants them to know. so there had to be a way to use this against barty and i think it’s exactly as it seems. voldemort knows that barty isnt going to tell anyone, that he’s going to treasure being the only one that voldemort “opened up to” and would talk about his life to, it creates this idea in barty’s head that “i’m special!!!” so voldemort tells barty about where he comes from under the pretense of making barty think that they’re close, that voldemort does love him too. because why else would voldemort be willing to give up such valuable information? it’s the only symbol of trust and love that voldemort is actually willing to offer barty, but it is more than enough

(i mean unless voldemort’s gonna let bcj suck his dick or smthn, bc god knows barty would love that

also lol barty accidentally calling voldemort “daddy” in front of all the other death eaters fucking thrills me LOL)

barty likely definitely would’ve become a blood purist after getting to hogwarts, hearing about voldemort and deciding that voldemort is what he wants to dedicate his life to. i just think the fact that he never mentions blood purity makes is obvious where his loyalty lies. i think if he was a blood purist first, he would’ve mentioned it mattering to him, but the fact that he didn’t is more telling that it’s just voldemort that matters. whatever voldemort believed in, barty would’ve said, “yep. me too!” and it all definitely does go back to his mental illness

so absolutely in a world where he’d gotten help and support for whatever was going on in his head, he never would’ve started following voldemort. he still never could’ve made his father proud, but he could’ve learned to cope with that better

sirius mentions in his dialogue about barty that it came as such a shock to everyone barty turned out to be a death eater. ik the wizarding world is stupid, but i really think it’s because he kept his crazy behind closed doors. where only the people who really knew him would’ve seen it

honestly, other people probably saw him as a bit of a crybaby. if you asked his classmates about him, i think they’d say, “i always thought he was the kind of guy to hurt himself, not somebody else”

ohhhhh, yes! i totally agree!!! outside of blood purity and just talking about parenting techniques??? no, bcsr doesn’t see anything wrong with the way walburga treats sirius

but he would never, ever say that to sirius, because sirius needs to hear that bcsr understands and loves him. bcsr needs to be someone that sirius can complain about walburga to, so that bcsr can use that information and know how to manipulate sirius into believing that he’s so much better and he’ll always be there to take care of sirius

and yes, that’s so real. james just doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he says how bcsr treated sirius wasn’t right. because james was raised in a place of nothing but love, he doesn’t actually know what’s bad and what’s not. he’s just being dramatic and overestimating it, sirius knows the difference between bad and good, love and hate, and obv bcsr loves him, so it’s all okay!! (there is something, in the back of his mind, that tells him that it’s not. that he doesn’t want to be hit, but he can’t let himself actually think about it without feeling guilty bc how dare he when bcsr has done so much for him?!)

bcsr is like orion and walburga all wrapped up in one parent LOL he’s got all the emotional and physical abuse, the manipulation and expectations of walburga and then the cold distance and working too much of orion, but sirius doesn’t see that side, bc bcsr always has time for him. i think that’s really what makes it so easy for sirius to accept him as a father figure, it feels like exactly what he needs. and even tho he’s so similar to walburga for sirius (sirius doesn’t actually see it, of course) he’s nothing like that bastard of a man orion. and bcsr is happy to tell sirius orion is a terrible, terrible father

absolutely, the potters would NOT let sirius go see bcsr after everything they’ve heard about him. and that would make sirius feel sososo guilty, because bcsr is probably so lonely without him around. he probably misses sirius so much and sirius misses him too, but the potters are really trying to get into sirius’s head that it’s. not. okay. the amount of damage they have to work on undoing with sirius is wild

ugggggh, yes!!! you’re so right that when sirius first shows up, mrs crouch might honestly feel a little relieved since bcsr is calmer and less volatile towards their son, but she quickly learns that it’s actually for the worst and not for the best, because what she actually wants is to mend her family. not further separate it

but of course, barty is barty and reacts to everything, so he’s not just going to sit there and let his daddy be stolen from him. the one bit of attention bcj got from his father was beatings and now with sirius around, bcj doesn’t even get that anymore? all he gets is “be more like sirius, bartemius”? he can’t stand for that, so he takes it right to his father and says “fuck you, fuck sirius” any insult that he can think of to direct towards sirius and barty feels elated when the anger spreads across bcsr’s face and he knows he’s about to be beat

and everything just gets worse. bc now barty is going out of his way to cause trouble for attention more than ever. and mrs crouch knows the only way to try getting her family back on track is to get rid of sirius…..

(not kill him but it makes me giggle to imply it anyways)

and OMG i looooove barty seeing himself and sirius as if they’re in a competition for bcsr’s attention, so being beaten by bcsr in front of sirius, just thrills him so much!!! and i think honestly sirius just tries to look away bc yes crouch sr smacks and hits sirius a few times, but it’s never a proper beating like that and it’s rly when his pity for barty comes in

YESSS. sirius being his little doll that he can build and shape into what he needs him to be is bcsr’s wet dream!!!! it’s exactly what he actually wanted in a son and it’s so interesting that sirius spent all this time fighting against his own family, their ideals and what they wanted him to be, meanwhile bc bcsr does it with love and hides his manipulation a little better, sirius falls for it easier

and him telling sirius he can cry occasionally is sooo good. sirius never does, just like bcsr knew he wouldn’t, but it makes sirius’s heart swell with happiness just from being told that he can for the first time in his life

omfg,,,,,, bcsr sending sirius home when he’s in a depressive episode???

bc that’s the exact kind of overdramatic shit bcsr doesn’t want to deal with. these kids need to “get over it” and act right. bcsr is not going to deal with them acting up and sirius in a manic episode probably reminds him too much of bcj, and that’s not what bcsr wants from sirius. “you’re supposed to be better than him, sirius, i’m disappointed in you” so sirius does everything he can to not disappoint him again, getting the potions from lily is perfect and bcsr is just “so glad to see you’re back to normal, son” and even gives him a pat on the back. so affectionate and wonderful, amirite?

barty and ocd ♥️♥️♥️ he has harm OCD absolutely. he wants to hurt himself and others, anyway, as often as he can. he has panic attacks that last for hours at a time some days, crying, screaming, hitting himself against walls, banging his head and wrists on things. because on top of all these bad feelings, he has this energy and need to get them out and he just can’t and it’s frustrating and he’s sobbing, because he doesn’t know what to do, bcsr won’t help him, and as much as his mother wants to, she can’t either

and then on top of it, he’s clumsy, ungrateful and falls over all the time LOL drops and breaks stuff, which pisses crouch sr off to no end, runs into things and walls. and it’s never “are you okay?” but always “what did you do now, you idiot child?!” can’t beat the clumsiness or mental illness out of him unfortunately

barty opening up to walburga and her not giving a shit is the funniest thing ever to me LOL he rly thought he was gonna get sirius with that one, but fr. why would walburga want bcj over sirius? perfect, beautiful, looks just like her, sirius? everyone likes sirius better, even bcsr!!! thank god for daddymort entering the picture!

im gonna see if i can’t find the chapter regulus’s age might be mentioned in, bc sirius’s exact words about barty were “he can’t have been more than 19” that doesn’t mean he is 19, he could’ve been younger, anywhere from like 17-19, i’d say. so i’d just like to see the wording on regulus’s age exactly

(i’m a pro-shipper and all, but the ship that irritates me most is j/egulus NGL)

LOL i’ll gladly accept my award for it, ty, ty!!! it’s the perfect way to describe barty’s obsession with sirius. it’s not love, it’s barely any real genuine feelings outside of hate, tbh.

barty sees this guy who his dad is all over and barty wants to be with him, wants to be him, wants to kill him and be killed by him all at the same time

he’d go out of his way to start fights with sirius whenever bcsr isn’t around (it’s fine when he is around too, but that’s more about fighting bcsr than sirius)

and i think sirius would do his best not to fight back, because he thinks he understands barty. he gets that he’s upset and why, so he does his best not to engage with it beyond defending himself

but sirius WILL defend himself. and ohhhh when he does??? bcj just about creams his pants from it, it’s the hottest thing in the world and i think he’d just grab sirius by the back of the neck, sirius prepares for an actual physical fight, but suddenly bcj is kissing him instead???

and it’s messy, their teeth keep clacking against one another’s, their lips press too hard together and it really shouldn’t feel good, but it does???

and sirius knows better than to get involved with him, he really does, but he pities barty and figures “well, fine, if fucking him gets him to chill out, let’s fuck”

also idk how you see barty’s looks, but i don’t see him as being all that attractive? like he looks fine, but he’s got pale yellowish skin, looks like he’s gonna throw up and start crying constantly, freckles and a bit of a baby face in my head and is sooo thin in a sickly way. it’s sorta just his manic personality that makes him hot and i love the idea that it doesn’t actually match his face. at all

also, nothing makes me uncomfortable. the more toxic and fucked up it is, the more i’m gonna like it. the whole time we’ve been getting into this, in the back of my mind, i’ve been like, “okay,,,,, what if bcsr and sirius fucked tho?” i tried to hold it back, but you’ve unleashed me

(you can also tell me if i go too far here but i just love fucked up shit)

barty would be crushed to know his daddy is fucking sirius. that should be him. he should be the one with all of daddy’s attention and getting “i love yous” whispered in his ear, he should be the one that gets told he’s doing a good job when he gives his daddy head

the idea of him just standing in the doorway, looking in thru a crack while he watches bcsr fuck sirius is everrrrything to me

and this doesn’t at all help his psychosexual attraction to sirius either, because he’s jealous of him and wants to be him, but he also wants to be with him???

and on sirius’s end, i could totally bcsr grooming sirius into them sleeping together, being jealous of anyone else Sirius seems to like, because what is he going to do if sirius finds someone he likes better than bcsr and stops spending time with him? no. that’s not okay, he doesn’t want that.

so bcsr has to be everything for sirius. he has to be there for emotional support (not that sirius would complain too much, bc he doesn’t want to be a burden), he has to be his father, he has to love him, raise him and teach him what to be in life, but he also has to be his lover, because he can’t stand the idea of sirius having anyone else for anything

and as long as bcsr loves sirius, sirius would give him anything. as long as it keeps bcsr’s attention on him and he keeps praising him and sirius just keeps making him sosososo proud and doing so well??? sirius would get addicted to that praise. whatever it takes to get it, he wants it, whatever bcsr tells him to do, he does it

but!!! bcsr not wanting sirius in that way is also so interesting bc of how rejected it would make sirius feel from bcsr for the first time so far. yes, he’s disappointed bcsr before and yes hes made him mad and gotten hit, but bcsr has never really told him no before??? that would be so jarring and upsetting to sirius, he just might have to go sleep with bcj (LOL)

do you mean barty crouch sr by bcsr??? because omg plz tell me what you think about sirius’s relationship w him, i find the crouches so interesting, i would love to hear about that

YESS i LOVE you !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i dont actually know how much of what i imagine for them can be fit into canon/is canon but like sglkfd.

so barty jr and sirius probably met during their childhood i think, bcjr was intelligent and well mannered and a respectable kid in sirius' age range, and ofc there's the hc that he was close friends w regulus, too. i hc he was pretty distant w bcjr himself but i just knoww sirius 'daddy issues' black needed everyone's parents' approval. orion was a negligent asshole sawr i think its a pretty valid course of action yk

and ofc bcsr loved him !! he was intelligent, he was quick, he was charming, well mannered, all the shit he wishes his bastard of a son was. and barty sr is a bit manipulative too yk he would definitely try to steal sirius away from his family and friends because he knows what sirius needs.

and like !! bcsr. he knows his son is death eater, he does use sirius as a replacement. he doesnt hide it, either, which he thinks justifies using a very obviously traumatized young boy to forget about the guilt in his heart about abusing, traumatizing and neglecting his own son. that being said, he gives sirius the watered down version of abuse his parents do - which sirius has grown comfortable enough with. that being said, the main reason sirius ran away isnt there: he's not a supporter of voldemort. he's actively fighting against him. (also hehe i hc walburga as bipolar so sirius is just happy he doesnt have a timebomb in the house 24/7) (or at least the timebomb doesnt explode around him !!). bcsr still mentions who sirius should associate himself with, still is disappointed when he doesnt get a good grade (an E instead of an O), he yells at sirius, maybe he raises a hand at him too - but at the end of the day sirius finds him justified because he's the one who took sirius under his wing, and is helping him, and is nice to him, and this is really what parents do to their children, right?

here is also when the post comes in btw: bcsr feels entitled to sirius' life, his idea of a parent/child relationship is ownership, and unfortunately that's sirius' view of it too, but bcsr is a lot calmer and quieter than walburga, he cares more than orion - to sirius its really the best of both worlds. bcsr wants sirius to go in politics which sirius does not want because he already has whatever career he's chosen for himself, and bcsr feels it necessary that sirius follow his - his own son wont.

bcsr does need sirius, he confides in him, he loves him (in his own fucked up way). sirius moves on, he runs away and gets farther and farther away from everything that reminds him of Before and feels resentment that bcsr (a man who he's considered his strongest father figure for years) doesn't even reach out to him once. bcsr feels that its a child's responsibility to reach out every time - he feels betrayed that sirius didn't runaway to him, that he didnt even know sirius had runaway till someone told him in passing. the letters they exchanged come to an abrupt end and it just feels like everything ended in the middle of it yk. barty crouch sr doesnt see sirius till sirius is arrested, soon after his own bio son is x

(also, yes sirius does still have the potters, but the potters are a completely different world to him. he's not used to that kind of completely unconditional love, he's not used to seeing how they shower their heir son in love. its a little bittersweet, it feels like a fantasy, sirius feels like he's intruding, he fills resentment to james for being raised with parents who love him and ofc he doesnt want that so he finds solace elsewhere. he thinks the potters are angels on earth, his relationship with bcsr is what the normal parent/child relationship. if walburga and orion are a 10 on the scale of what sirius considers to be 'bad parents', euphemia and fleamont are in the negative. bcsr falls somewhere in the middle, like a 2 or 3 to sirius. to bcjr, sirius can recognize, that bcsr is horrible. he yells, may hit, he's permanently disappointed when they do interact. they barely ever do - bcsr is always busy, he makes special time for sirius (which makes sirius giddy bc wowzers am i that important?) which cuts out even more time from bcsr and bcjr to interact. also, bcsr calls sirius son and he doesnt call bcjr son. sirius is lowk a homewrecker i love him.).

[wherestarsarestillasleep]

1a 2e and 5i for the ze ask thingy!! ^•^

TALKS ABOUT ZERO ESCAPE

1a. Favorite Character?

its (one of) the kurashikis by MILES past anyone else no question but i honestly cannot claim either of them over the other and stick to that it really just depends on my mood. Akane is a better character like quote unquote "objectively" writing wise which like it would be astounding if she managed not to be when she's the core character of the entire series and there's precisely one (1) scene where (adult) aoi isnt lying to your face lmao. BUT aoi just hits like fucking Everything that makes me insane about a character on both shallow surface traits and deep core characterisation levels. akane also functions better as an independent character not part of that pair like trying to look at them individually alone, if that's relevant to choosing one over the other, while aoi isn't much of a character at all if you tried to remove him from akane existing, there's just the santa persona left, like i WOULD still like him because hehe edgy twink :3c but it would be shallow. they're both two of my favorite characters ever ever.. frequently bought together do not seperate

2e. Least favorite scene?

oh damn dont think ive ever thought about that one. okay the first thing coming to mind is the scene in vlr with the lever with clover and luna outside the book room that fucking sucks but i want to give a more real substantial scene that that. there's nothing big that comes to mind that i actively hate i just ignore most of the points in ztd i dont like lol. i have more dislike for the ABSCENCE than prescence of things like how akane never once mentions aoi ever in ztd when carlos spends the whole game talking to her about his sister what the fuck. real answer probably the way they/sigma chose to deliver diana's backstory in the ending where they're stranded

5i. An unpopular opinion?

I don't buy the nebulous "fate dictated it had to be this way" story Akane keeps claiming after 999. I don't think it's ever questioned ingame iirc it's always treated as more of a fact Akane happens to be the one to relay, than a personal narrative or belief of Akane's. And Uchikoshi himself tells it like this in interviews also. So maybe it's more of me rejecting a canon thing than a difference in opinion to say this but the more I think about it I don't believe her word. In 999 there really was only one way to save her, but when she keeps stressing it about the AB Project etc I think she's kidding herself. She had a choice as much as she believes she doesn't. Even in 999 where there was truly one possible series of events that would lead to her retroactive survival, the only interpretation that makes sense to me is that she saw it happen that way because it's how she would have chosen to do it. Like, I've seen a lot of people write her as upset about having to kill the Nonary Board but her hand being forced - no. She wanted them dead. If you allow the "some external universal force beyond Akane determined how everything would need to be done" it sucks away soooo much subtext about her and even actual direct text because you can say well she just needed to SAY that exact sentence, she didn't need to believe it. All the interesting layers of thoughts you can have about her methods and motivations can fall away if it truly wasn't in any way hers. I think what she tells herself and everyone around her about the necessity of especially the AB Project is a justification she's making for herself and mostly does believe but if you dig to her core her motives are a lot more selfish and less noble necessary greater good than she presents them. and i find that a lot more interesting a read personally

[ectonurites]

do u have any thoughts on the whole “tim is zapped to time prison” storyline? bc i feel like it could have been pretty interesting and a good way to bring back young justice/tim’s memories more immediately if it hadn’t been such a blatant attempt to just get tim out of storylines bc they had no ideas for his character

sorry lol u don’t have to respond i just kind of wish people talked about this storyline more? and the fact that tim lowkey became one of the only people in dc with knowledge of the other timelines (i think so at least) and nobody really addressed it?? like going into the next phase where people learn about other timelines after death metal.... tim should already know some of this stuff right?

YES YES YES OKAY LETS TALK ABOUT THIS this got incredibly long because I just have a lot to say (and i included screenshots) and i prob got a little off topic but. but lets get started anyways:

i haven’t read that particular storyline in a few months so i might be missing/misremembering some details here, but that whole ‘time prison + future tim’ thing was like. a really really interesting concept and the implications/impacts it has are a big part of why i liked tynion’s detective comics run as much as i did even with it’s flaws in characterization (such as treating tim like he was jimmy neutron boy genius and making steph..... be all ready to quit/breakaway from the team like that. the steph quitting characterization really started i think in batgirl convergence and unfortunately has haunted her since, even though pre reboot never giving up was like...... one of her defining traits. dc i hate you sometimes) 

i think that one of the biggest things that bothers me about the situation is how little we saw most of the other characters in the batfamily grieve (aside from steph and some with bruce, but again the way steph was portrayed just... hhhhhh. it very much reduced her to ‘tims girlfriend’ more than i’d have preferred) but otherwise like...as far as I can remember there was maybe one line in that monsters crossover thing where dick mentioned tim was gone, jason had a single line about avoiding the funeral in rhato, i dont think they showed any reaction from babs at all until after he was back, and the most for damian I recall is at the end of the 2014 teen titans run (#24) where he looks at... a case with the old red robin uniform Tim wasn’t even wearing anymore when he died? and that just bugs me. Instead of getting to see the actual funeral we get one flashback to it way after the fact once Bruce already knows Tim’s not actually dead

But at the time when they all DID think he was dead? the closest thing we see was in that same teen titans issue (#24) there’s a memorial-type ‘sharing stories’ thing after the funeral with tim’s titans friends but.... we don’t see something like that with his family. tim is a major presence in these peoples’ lives, they are his family, when he gets sent into time prison its even SAID how loved he apparently is

its just... idk. they all thought he was dead, and if they had put more emphasis on showing not just telling how that effected EVERYONE (not just steph) in the batfam, it might have felt a lot less like they were just putting tim away until there was a story idea for him. (like obviously I know they can’t make everyone’s stories revolve around Tim, but I’d have way preferred a detective comics issue of the funeral/memorial with the family than having there only be a teen titans one, I think it would have... held more relevance & meaning... but instead they just went right into that monster crossover story instead of lingering on this)

but then the Tim story itself once it does pick up way later, with titans tomorrow/future tim coming along having that whole “tell conner you’re sorry” “who’s conner?” exchange with current tim... that opens up A LOT of things to think about, and I think was pretty interestingly done if i’m remembering correctly. future tim recognizes the timelines are different, and ya know goes off to try to change things further ("whaddaya got there?” “a gun to kill batwoman” “NO!!!!”), theres lots of fighting etc etc the good guys win as we expect, but once that’s all settled tim’s left there with this whole. thought process

which ya know is the big indicator there’s weird timeline/reality fuckery going on (or also the read here can be that tim and kon are so connected across all space and time that their bond can transcend anything even timelines and realities and reboots... “and they were soulmates” “oh my god they were soulmates”) 

ANYWAYS lets not forget that tim isnt the only one who learns about this other timeline stuff during this whole situation!

Brother Eye has records of future tim’s timeline, and cass & steph see who they used to be! and as soon as steph finds out ‘holy shit i was ROBIN and BATGIRL?’ she also desperately wants to know more! which then a bit later leads into young justice 2019 where instead of going off to college like they told Bruce they were gonna, Steph and Tim go get the help of Zatanna to see what might be going on in their brains with these timelines and weird feelings (as we see in flashback form in yj 2019 #5)

and HOO BOY DOES SHE FIND THINGS! she gets in there and finds out that oh yeah, their brains had very much so been tampered with, and with her magic she undoes some of it, by unlocking memories, and Tim finally remembers Conner! (also in case u were wondering, that panel is specifically a callback to this one from yj 1998 #17 when Cissie quit the team)

one thing that I think is weird/interesting/idk if it gets... properly addressed even, was that Zatanna also poked around Steph’s brain too and she didn’t remember everything? Might have something to do even with how Tim had been in time prison, might have taken less work from Z to open things up because of that? Who knows

additionally i wanna call attention to how he said “That entire chapter of my life” which... leading into my next point a bit... strongly leads me to believe even though he’s remembering some things he definitely does not have ALL of his memories back (because theres a lot more than just the young justice ‘chapter’ of tim’s life that was drastically changed by the new 52 & rebirth) 

BUT moving on, i wanna bring up this part from later on (after they figured out that there was a crisis that caused things in the world to change, which is why their memories/brains were messed with) in issue #16

so yeah, I think it’s indicated even though Zatanna brought back some memories and opened up his brain a bit, there’s still many holes, and some things seem more like dreams rather than memories and he’s probably unable to tell which are which on his own to some extent. (also for reference the real thing that Tim thought was just a dream is... likely yj 1998 issue #1)

So based on the things i’ve brought up here (which are the things I remember off the top of my head, I could easily be accidentally leaving shit out LMAO i haven’t fully read through any of these books in at least 3 or more months now) I think it’s safe to assume that Tim definitely has a head start on getting back his memories before Death Metal happens, but that it was by no means a complete thing. So the after effects of Death Metal are probably just gonna... be a little less drastic for him vs most other people because it was already happening, but it’ll be kinda filling in the remaining gaps? 

And like you said he is absolutely one of the few people that already knew about about the timelines/the fact that these crises have happened and changed things, but pretty much all the other young justice characters are also aware that there was meddling in the timeline/that multiple timelines and alternate universes like this exist since they were all together as a group when it got explained (in like. yj 2019 #15 i believe is where most of the explaining happens) (and cass as well is aware of things to some extent because of her and steph’s interaction with Brother Eye) but the difference is that Zatanna didn’t go into everyone’s brains, so they aren’t dealing with the same memory things as Tim (and possibly Steph? because again Z DID go in her brain, she just wasn’t able to unlock all the same things as she did with Tim) 

but yeah in general i SO wish this was explored more, both in canon and in fanworks (fanworks tho... that can still happen >:3c). Memories hazily coming in for Tim while Kon and Bart are able to confirm or deny things, him dealing with conflicting memories and feelings about his past as they trickle in... like I think we’ll start to see these types of things moving forward across a lot of titles with Infinite Frontier (i BELIEVE dont quote me on this but I BELIEVE the person writing Damian’s upcoming solo had mentioned in an interview that the memories coming back of the other timeline aren’t going to be an all at once thing but will be more gradual for most characters) but the fact that it theoretically had already been happening for Tim for MONTHS and we only got that one crumb indicating it in #16 of it instead of any actual exploration makes me SAAAAAAD 

[romancemoved]

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

✨ @escapedartgeek. meme. still accepting!

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

vi is definitely an acts of service type lol. so hes not very showy. very practical... he’ll do ya taxes. he already got ur w2 dont even worry about it. he also got ur form 1095-a, form 1099-misc, 1099-g, form 1098, etc. he has it all and hes making sure the burden isnt heavy on u... gljgfdgjdf. virote isnt very showy lol. hes kinda quiet in his affection in that he really hates big gestures. he hates receiving big gestures too. his worst nightmare is a proposal in public. glfkdjgdfk.

not to be an astrology ho but virote’s a cancer sun w. a virgo venus in the 3rd house so like i said ealrlier he’s a tender acts of service type but but but alsoooo he also loves to write letters. i’d say all of his other love languages revolve around acts of service and communication, too. like even when he gives his boyfriend a gift, it’s a gift that he can really use in his daily life because he doesn’t believe in giving away shit that serves no purpose. like he likes receiving stuff he can use, too. hes a very practical bf…!!!

ironing his lover’s clothes and leaving them out for the morning.

rubbing their hands with rosehip oil at night.

doing some of their errands for them.

running them a hot bath with a bunch of oils and salts so it’s real comfy and stress relieving.

of course kissin and cuddlin is great....

anything except being showy, basically. excessive, big gestures of romance freak him out. he just wanna fuck in the back of a rolls royce and make sure u get ya coffee in the morning.

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

his love letters are usually very, very sweet. not in a crazy way tho lol he just likes telling his boyfriend about his day, how hes feeling, some little facts about himself, show some appreciation. some quotes from a book hes reading. personal. on the flip side hes never received a love letter so............

............. idk what he actually likes. hes not entirely sure what he likes to see in them, himself.

............................. i think he deserves a love letter.

[satum-eloquence]

AAAAAAAAAAA I CANT WAIT FOR “THY CREATURE”!! (it reminds me to continue play mazm: jnh but thats for another time).

so in anticipation i will share my thoughts and my speculations on thy creature and some little things i noticed in the trailer and other materials mazm released. note: i havent played mazm much but however i am just so stoked about a frankenstein game sooooo

ready?

HERE WE GOOOOOO

My Dumbass Thoughts on Thy Creature I Will Regret Posting (as of March 2021)

(SIDE NOTE: I will use he/him pronouns for the creature as the book uses this pronoun for him and in the MazM caption of the post, the pronouns were not explicitly stated or implied)

THE DESIGN OF CREATURE

Honestly? Very good and yet somewhat accurate to the book. As I, vaguely, recollect his description includes “yellowish skin; scars, stitches, long, dark hair; yellowish eyes, 8ft.”

In the MazM ver,

he has lots of scars and stitches

no yellow skin but his current skin is very becoming of the overall aesthetic

long hair but not dark

has a yellow eye

i am not so sure about his height but i conjecture it would be similar to the book

has some cool looking horns!! there is a mysterious, alluded, character whose presence is set up as this big mystery that is continuously hinted at. maybe symbolic of his past or his conflict with himself?

imo, the creature looks very innocent and not as horrid as he was described in the book :> (such a cutie!)

holding a white flower. symbolizing innocence, maybe?

shows some flesh.

GAME MECHANICS

A very fun impression though I might feel very frustrated because of the maze lol (im bad at mazes, i just panic). Not much to comment on

So as we can see, it plays out like a typical mazm game with the whole “approaching other people, seeing their well-designed sprites and reading their dialogue”.

but it introduces unique gameplay

other than what i previously mentioned, we can dodge certain attacks as we travel through a maze

and in some instances (the non maze part), we a little logo of sorts with “x75” beside to it.

maybe that is the number of lives we have

75 is quite the large number, exceedingly odd!

the game might be very difficult or something like that or maybe we only have to complete the game in a single attempt before retrying. idk much about game design lol

its on pc so maybe we will use wasd or the arrow keys to move

TRAILERS, TEASERS AND DETAILS

This is the part where I point out small details and seeing what they could mean and stuff.

Teaser:

at the start of a teaser posted on MazM’s instagram two days ago (Mar. 22), the narrator says “many unbelievable things happen in the world” and we see a fluffy white creature with horns similar to the creature’s and that one mysterious character. as what i have mentioned in the design portion, the creature has a white flower which could mean innocence. the small animal (?) seems to resemble a lamb, a known symbol of innocence. It seems like the theme of innocence will be a recurring theme.

we then see the creature and start the gameplay.

slides of text reads “struggle all you want before i am fair to everyone”... does it mean that the creature will treat everyone else poorly because of his mistreatment by the humans? i am not sure

In the gameplay segment, two black figures, whose silhouettes remind me of a wedding dress, express their concerns over someone (likely male because of the “he/him” pronouns). They say “Poor thing.” and “He needs his mother’s care”. hmmm mother’s care?

also the figures seem to be identical to eachother

after the segment, we see an old man with a scarred eye (maybe de lacey???) and a woman beside him (if the old man is de lacey, maybe agatha is the one beside him).

If my guesses are correct and they are the De Laceys, could they be allies of TC (the creature)?

After the scene w the duo, we see creature and the quote of “Why does she hate me?” Who is she? An OC? heck, maybe fem!Victor? that could be linked with “he needs his mother’s care” (if the quote is referring to tc) but the fem!Victor thing seems QUITE farfetched imo because i am just shooting in the dark w no braincells recovered from school. some of these are just probably from the mazm ver of the creature’s past

also ooo a book at the right-bottom portion and the screen and a counter for how many of those lamb-like creatures (chimeras? parallels to creature? idk)

after they show us a bit of the maze gameplay again, a book which is similar to the book i mentioned, is on the floor.

Maybe the book is actually Victor’s journal which you can collect to know some of the lore

TC approaches the old man and says “I came to help you, why are you frowning at me like that?” It is likely that the old man isnt de lacy because the old man is probably not (fully) blind upon perceiving him. if he is de lacey, theyre taking some “creative liberties” by not rendering him fully blind. grrr i wish i had more context >:((((

then after TC interacts with a book which contains a letter from Ingolstadt. Most likely written to Victor and it speaks of overdue books on human anatomy, etc.

Then some speedy text!! I am not able to procure all of them but I got “I am” and “everyone”.

By 1:01, we see the same mysterious entity with horns similar to the creature (except the horns are even).

There is a family portrait of (possibly) the Frankensteins to the right. I conjecture the woman is Caroline and the boy beside her is victor himself! :D

Anyway, my eyes feel a bit droopy and there is still a trailer but yknow i gtg. so see ya and thank you for enduring my dumb thoughts for this long. youre pretty cool <333

[bi-dazai]

a summary of the whole contrapoints thing from someone who has been spending most of her time on twitter and seen it first-hand throughout

(im using screenshots, some ive downloaded from trusted twitter mutuals and some ive made myself. since i have the shinigami eyes extension and many of my twitter mutuals dont, some scs will be inconsistent. i have checked each downloaded sced tweet to make sure theyre real.)

please dont try to start an argument on this post, im just summarising whats happened. ive already argued myself out over on my twitter and whatever point youre trying to make has literally already been said 20 times before.

Basically in late august/september natalie said some inflammatory shit about pronouns and nbs and “binary transes” which she’d said stuff along the lines of in the past. both nb and binary trans folks have criticised her lightly for this kind of attitude in the past as well. she has a pattern of behaviour (including being very...lenient towards terfs) but the stuff she was saying and the bad takes were tolerable, if incorrect and a little ignorant. what she said this time was basically “asking for pronouns in trans spaces is good i guess but it hurts passing/semi-passing transes like me” which is a take that makes no goddamn sense and is extremely ignorant towards both nb folks and trans folks who do not have the luxury of even trying to pass. she exaggerates the actual effect it has on her as well. basically the entire tweet reads really badly (the discussion was about asking for pronouns in trans spaces):

peter coffin made some batshit crazy takes (as usual) including inventing the term “enby cultural capital” which he refused to actually evaluate on past asking people to read a book (if you cant clarify your point on your own then you have an issue). he started tweeting like a madman and making it painfully clear how hard he will go to bats for natalie despite him being nb himself (many people joked/suspected  that its because he wants to fuck her, same with philosophytube, and honestly looking at how they see her that isnt hard to believe).

natalie went off twitter for a while, eventually leaving an apology that was actually alright and made me and several others believe she would return a little more understanding of trans intra-community issues, especially in terms of class because she has always had an issue with ignorance from that angle. she said she had a friend called gwen taking over (nobody knows who this is nor had they ever heard of this friend, leaving some people suspicious that she may have made her up. im not going to confirm or deny this because i have no clue.)

idk what peter coffin was up to because at this point i and most ppl had officially stopped listening to him but i believe he was angrily tweeting about cancel culture. a lot of people were as well, even though the bulk of the criticisms of natalie had been written and expressed in a mature, appropriate way. some of my twitter mutuals who had been involved in discussing natalie’s past trends with these issues as well as her lack of class consciousness and (probably) accidental antisemitism began to get messages from what was very clearly alt-right trolls trying to doxx natalie. it was real information, which is extremely concerning, but no person published it and her criticisers that got those dms were vocal about not bullying or doxxing natalie. natalie wasn’t pushed away because of “cancel culture”, and “cancel culture” really isnt a real thing and many contra fans believed this too until she came under criticism, which highlights a pretty weird mentality but whatever.

anyway, she came back this week with a new video titled “opulence” which i dont care for watching so i just read about it from my twitter mutuals who did. since i didnt watch it ill only summarise its criticisms very basically. 

to put it simply the main criticisms of the video were that she conflated trans aesthetic with literal opulence and class again, which people weren’t a fan of. she talked about her experience over the last few weeks, spinning it her way because how else would she spin it, thats to be expected. it was mostly just the usual contra, flawed takes and a bit of class ignorance...except for one blaring massive issue which is absolutely undeniable proof for where she’s heading with her politics and her content.

on that video, natalie invited infamous transmed, the guy who outed lana wachowski for money, buck angel, to collab with her. this guy is infamous in the trans community for being a cis bootlicking bigot. he makes kalvin garrah look like a lovely guy. he’s been around for a very long time and he’s very famous for being a massive asshole. heres just a taste of the kind of attitude he carries:

contra has previously spoken up about why you shouldn’t platform bigots. so her platforming a bigot has some very very obvious implications.

needless to say, people were and are pretty mad and very disappointed. a large majority of her fans have been against this.

 when oliver (philosophytube) promoted the video on his twitter many replies to his quote tweet were his fans begging him to be even mildly critical of contra. 

on contra’s subreddit (for clarification, natalie isnt a mod there and im not sure about how involved she is on the sub) there was even a thread created in which MANY of her fans on there expressed criticism of contra’s views. the mods then locked the post, deleted comments, and banned the use of the word “truscum” because it was offensive i guess? it was a move very close to “terf is a slur” territory

furthermore, some pretty infamous transphobes have been in support of her and buck angel in the past, including ian miles cheong which is...wow. some of these are scs from a twitter mutual, but the ones with red names are from me - i have the shinigami eyes extension, so basically any person with a red name is a known transphobe (im surprised buck isnt marked yet lol).

finally, ill put some threads here that give a pretty good analysis and view of the situation imo

[solongllondon]

1, 7, 16, 28, 37, 44, and 48 for book ask game!

thank you!!! <3

1. What book did you last read?

(let’s preface this with the fact that im always reading at least 2 books at the same time lol) 

i’m currently reading Amy Spalding’s We Used to be Friends, which is really cute and quite innovative! also re-reading Hot Milk by Deborah Levy because a friend wants us all to give her our favorite books with annotations on post-it’s in it for her birthday (super cute idea btw) so im doing that. but honestly, the only book im actually actively reading right now (aka reading more than 2 chapters a day from) is Midnight Sun. It is very bad which also makes it highly entertaining.

7. Do you borrow books from people?

i do!! and i will return them in pristine shape because i hate when people ruin borrowed books lol oops  

16. What book has been on you TBR pile the longest? 

probably all the lotr books? i read the first one ages ago but never read the others because they’re so fucking long. also war and peace. 

28. First book that comes to mind, tell us about it. Rant

okay. so. mockingjay. (spoiler, i guess??) i totally get that she had to kill finnick to showcase the brutality of war and how quickly a life can end and it made sense to pick him because he had finally gotten his happy ending. but. but. but. has Suzanne Collins ever thought about the fact that maybe. just. maybe. i didnt want finnick to die or get eaten by lizard mutts?? has she?? he is the literal love of my life and she?? just?? did that?? it’s honeslty. still so rude of her. 

also just in general people are quick to ignore mockingjay and say it’s bad and rushed but?? it isnt. it’s a brilliant book about the catastrophes of war and the awfulness of a tyrannical government and how in war people die quickly and there’s no time to mourn them, they’re just casulaties over all and it’s so clever and so well done and katniss’s ptsd is honestly expertly portrayed and you can still see that she is simply a 17 year old girl even if they all want to paint her up to be a war hero or traitor or both and how both the capitol and district 13 use her like they want to, essentially throwing her back into being a fucking puppet in their games?? GENIUS. Suzanne Collins is genius and we owe her. a lot. 

37. Is there a book that you think everyone should read?

James Baldwin’s Notes of a Native Son. I read it for a uni course and it has not let me go since. Honestly, read anything James Baldwin ever wrote but definitely read Notes of a Native Son. 

44. Favourite book quote, go.

This is gonna show how pretentious I am, already apologize: 

“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” - good omens, neil gaiman & terry pratchett 

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”  - anna karenina, leo tolstoy 

“But beyond that, in a time when things could still change, there were revolutions. The people rose, the empires fell and things changed. Liberty moves in arcs, rising and falling with the tide of time. - red queen, victoria aveyard. 

48. Do you write, highlight, underline etc in your books

I do if they’re uni books no question. I also do it occasionally in none uni books. for example, i have two copies of the hunger games series, one is pretty for displaying and the other one is highlighted, annotated to death. i think there’s a few pages missing in the first book, at least. and if i wanna annotate a normal book i’ll use post-it’s. 

thank you this was super fun!!

✨ Send me books asks ✨

[gayregis]

OK whoa before i even react to the second episode.

FUCKING TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE INTRODUCTION to the second episode. i mean . just what the fuck what the fuck man

that intro made me literally nauseous and disgusted what the fuck. i GET its yennefer’s Terrible Backstory but did they really need to do that? REALLY? also i thought it was her d*d that did that stuff to her, not otehr kids

i like how they make istredd a more likable guy in this :) i really hated the biased perspective from geralt in the books lol

LOL TISSAIA ROLLIN’ UP.......... does this mean we dont have to see much of the abuse? i hope to hell not i cant stomach any more

okay officially crying! that feel when when your “family” betrays you!

also oh no yennefer ... i know in the books she attempted suicide many times though right.. OH THANK YOU FOR NOT SHOWING THAT thank god

did ciri get scratched? by the RAT?

HE HAS THIS BIG BIRD ON HIS HEAD LMAOOOOOOOOOO

please instead of calling cahir nilfgaardian to make him mad can we please call him big bird? thank you

LUTE MUSIC?????????????

this doesnt look like gulet, I KNEW THEY CUT GULET OUT! but someone is singing :)

OH IM SO TORN RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!! dandelion is supposed to be actually good at his job but also the way THAT JOEY LEANED ON THE POLE? TH. OK. and THE FACT THAT HES PICKING UP THE FOOD THAT THEY THREW AT HIM.................................... classic dandelion. well actually okay hes supposed to be like, you know, mid-20s right now, this dandelion isnt a MASTER OF POETRY yet. he needs to evolve , like a pokemon. ... i like this scene just for the leaning on the wooden support and the fact that hes picking up. the food they threw at him. ALSO WAS HE GETTING PAID FOR THAT OR JUST ANNOYING PEOPLE???

h. he. APPROACHETH THE WITCHER. okay i like this, i like joey, i like cavill, lets see how this plays out. try not to throw up, geralt.

THE MOVEMENTS??????????? THE HAND GESTURE................ this is invoking the “i hate how camp straight dandelion is” emotion in me

JOEY STOP LEANING ON THINGS LIKE T HAT IM GONNA HAVE AN ANYEURISM. HE REALLY ACTS WITH HIS WHOLE BODY HUH

you can tell he loves this stupid fucking role huh. hes having fun you can tell.

ohhhhhh hes not blonde but they got the perfect fucking man for this

obviously not feeling too good about that punch because literally isnt geralts thing that he doesnt hurt the vulnerable? that was VERY out of character . also it was out of character for dandelion because dandelion would have CRIED or VOMITED you know how he is. 

ARE WE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT FRINGILLA’S FUCKING HAND?????? TISSAIA??? YOURE GONNA HEAL HER RIGHT... RIGHT

oh yennefer... ME IN ALGEBRA II WHEN I COULDNT FIGURE OUT A MATH PROBLEMMMM

LMAOOOOO FIONA ... ARE WE REALLY JUST GONNA GO THROUGH CIRI’S ENTIRE NAME UNTIL WE GET TO HER BLOODLINE AND THEN SHE USES FALKA??? LMAOOOO the time of contempt VIBES right now

we’re moving SO fast through edge of the world........ ughhhhhh pain... what about the smart quote from geralt about why humans invent monsters? ill listen to the audiobook tomorrow to quell my sadness

this is what i predicted though, fantastic acting on joey’s part, but the writers just said fuck friendship HJGDJKLS:

ugh the heterosexualisms.......

im predicting right now we’re not gonna get any ill set the world against you fun action huh

“is he a knight” wait a few books

wow yennefer and geralt really had the SAME ASS CHILDHOOD huh. lovely mentor figure but really really harsh schooling

tissaia explaining why shes harsh... oof but also can you please give yennefer a hug or something

ugh this edge of the world is so emotionally void.... i dread to think what its like if you didnt read the books. fans are legit gonna think that geralt despises dandelion, and its gonna be netflix’s fault!

also dandelion knows elder speech??? didnt he... only just learn that in time of contempt?

also watch out, lute!

[xmarksthescott]

i just read one of emma’s origin comics and i wanted to know if you had too and what your thoughts are on the different ones out there. also do you have any good scemma recs? comics or even fanfic! i’m not picky...i just read morrison’s new x-men and i’m struggling to see how emma fell in love with scott in that book and how the dynamic of their relationship even works? i want to like it! i just struggle to see it in that book

oh did you read the 2005 mini? I like the story overall. granted, it’s been a good while since I’ve read through it but I think it does a good job of explaining why she wanted to reinvent herself, how she hardened herself and how, particularly, men have repeatedly disappointed her. i think dark x-men the cabal has a really powerful retelling of her story from her own pov in a quick little one shot if you ever wanted to give that a read.

as for scott and emma…i don’t think morrison wrote them well. in my experience, morrison cannot write women and he frankly never seems interested in doing female characters justice. to me, his emma always felt like he just wanted her there to cause drama with jean and have some petty fallout instead of writing an actual character. and honestly i dont even blame you because i didn’t even ship scottemma in his run.

to me, scott and emma’s dynamic is better explored in other writers –particularly the run right after morisons was what sold me on it. basically, emma treats scott as an equal, she doesnt put him down or play into his fears that he isnt enough. she makes him a more confident leader and works with him through his insecurities and fears. in turn, scott was able to mine out a side of emma she didn’t even think she was capable of having. he’s the first guy to love her unconditionally and treat her like she deserves it. yeah, emma could have any guy in the world –she’s emma frost– but she chose scott and that’s always been really sweet to me. they’re just good for each other and they know it, it’s a cute and mature relationship imo.

as for recs for scottemma comic wise, some of my faves are:

-Astonishing X-Men v3 #1-24 + giant size (this was the run that made me first fall in love with them tbh)

-Uncanny X-Men #495-497 

-Uncanny X-Men #518-519 (#522 is worth reading because it has one of my favorite quotes from emma about scott but its not essential lol)

-Dark X-Men: The Confession

-Heralds #1

[withallthingslove]

the handmaid’s tale s3ep2 & s3ep3 thoughts

combining thoughts because 3 episodes released at once is a lot!

EPISODE 2

I might have missed it but how did beth end up at commander lawrence’s house from jezebel’s? I remember hearing jezebel’s mentioned but don’t remember if it was ever fully explained

im going to be honest... I would have rather had this be an emily centric episode. Honestly I kind of wish June and Emily could split the time as the main focuses. For ep. 2 I’ll talk about Emily’s/the Canada group’s storyline first

okay so love love love loved it. Showing Emily acclimating as a refugee feels so well done. It’s sad and rewarding at the same time. She’s gone from worrying about being executed to her biggest problem being that she has high cholesterol. And Alexis portrays that so well on her face 

Moira would be obsessed with Nichole first (I’m sorry I’m still Team Holly this is just easier because she’s annoyingly only referred to as nichole now). I think that’s in her personality to be like OMG JUNES BABY and see the positives of having Nichole around, while Luke is going to be struggling with it at first. 

This episode did a good job showing luke’s survivors guilt. He knows June is alive and Hannah is alive and growing, and he has his wife’s baby with another man (presumably from rape) and he can literally do nothing about it. His comments to Emily were rude af, but its understandable why he is upset. In his mind she can reunite with her family while he cant with his. 

Okay soo lowkey feel like Moira’s comment about how most reunions aren’t actually happy was @ june and luke. Like I have been saying for ages that they are too different to ever fully recover as a married couple even though they still love each other and I think Moira’s quote is foreshadowing to that, if they ever get a reunion 

When Emily called her wife though.... I cried

Also baby Nichole is so fucking cute and Luke finally accepting her was also so cute

okay june’s storyline... it was cool to see the martha stuff but felt forced at times idk. 

LOVE june’s sass with her new shopping partner its fucking hilarious

aunt lydia is acting exactly like how i expected her to she feels like she needs to prove her strength and when she feels weak (ie when june shows her sympathy) she lashes out

EPISODE 3

aight so commander lawrence.... i know we aren’t supposed to have him figured out so I’m not even going to try 

I will say though I think him bringing june into the meeting to serve tea was so that she would have way to hear what was going on. And then he humiliated her to keep people from being suspicious. that’s just how i interpreted it

But like.... is june allowed to read now like tf? Telling her to get a book with the yellow lettering in front of a room full of commanders. I was half expecting him to say “okay well that will cost you a finger” after she handed it to him. Because that would be the ultimate power move to make her read and then punish her for it. And then later at the end of the episode she gave him the files back and he didnt say anything. Obviously hes chill enough he wouldnt punish her like that in private but I’m confused at how a room full of commanders were just chill with june reading the spin of a book in front of them

i dont think lawrence is 100% anti gilead and he clearly likes parts of it i think he does just morally feel like he needs to do some stuff to help the resistance so he can sleep better. I will say though between him and serena, I think serena is more likely to backslide back to being bad than lawrence is

Serena... does everyone just like her now? Rita has softened towards her, june is nice like wtf. Props to her mom for telling her that nichole isnt hers mwuhahaha

and then she goes to june and admits nichole isnt hers and june tells her that only a mother could do what she did like barf. whatever. i hate that we havent had nick mention nichole once and have now seen serena crying about it for three episodes. like what is up with the writers wanting for us to suddenly forgive serena for everything and feel bad for her? I love serena as a villain but it just doesnt make sense. And why are they so deadset on having june bond with her children’s kidnappers about her children? it’s just icky

fred is so pathetic i cant even hate him. and joseph fiennes and elisabeth moss have really good chemistry in their scenes. and no I don’t mean romantic chemistry i just mean they play their parts well. It’s like as soon as june saw fred she relaxed because she knows how to play him and he falls right into it too. idk their scene in lawrence’s kitchen reminded me a lot of their scene in the kitchen in 2x06 when june gets up to get water. they have a rapport together and a familiarity so that when fred is not being the creeper he is their scenes play out nicely

nick....

lol

I wondered if he would be promoted to commander this season. The writers have made him pretty cold in these first couple episodes which is understandable but even when june stepped in the room you could just see the shock and love on their faces. 

when beth answered the door and was like “you arent here for me” i almost felt bad. i think that even though it was always just physical for nick that she harbored some real feelings for him. maybe not in love with him, but just genuine caring. And the way she said wasn’t sad, it was just that she knew he was there for june. Because I’m sure she recognized june as the handmaid nick had feelings for right when june arrived

their goodbye. i know some people were thinking it was out of character for them but i dont think it was. june reacted the way she always does when something bad happens. she lashes out at first, and then when she gets the bad news she closes her eyes, shuts all her emotions down, and then acts cold. And as soon as she acted cold she immediately regretted it and whispered “no” and ran after nick. And of course he was there waiting because he knows her and knew she needed space at first to process her anger. And then she took his hand and brought him back in the room, and they LOCKED THE DOOR TO HAVE SEX. I will not be taking any questions. 

[yukippe]

UGH im rlly back in my anne of green gables phase press f

ok now im going to talk about my feelings on Anne. 

books = blessed. i will admit that its wack that anne’s a conservative bc her family is n she really doesn’t know anything about the tories fsgfhhdhs but! i will also so that the amount of god n praying is rlly funny n my mom made me catholic just by giving me these books like. little me mustve been holy based off all this praying n sunday school in the book. n . i Dig it. wack. its also blessed that anne doesnt actually start liking gilbert until halfway through the 2nd book like - bruh i love that she just full up like competing with him for top marks n barely cared about him el oh el. also EVERYTHING from redmond college hits me right. like anne n the weirdo...anne getting engaged...anne’s fiance’s sister being surprised she isnt bored by him...anne breaking the engagement n falling in love with gilbert n realizing it when hes so sick he might die n then he gets better n rushes to her side n They get engaged. like. im soft babey. BUT! its not a love story! even though in anne of avonlea theres the line, “If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman rhe description would have answered point for point  to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles who’s obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul.” like gilbert has been in love with her since he saw in her class and called her carrots bruhhh. Okay that was not the point whatsoever i just read that quote and wanted to include in anyways. anne doesn’t have romantic love story but she has a love story with the world and thats what the books are about. so like the first movie was rlly off lol, the others were better but i think a good bit of them focused too much on gilbert when she actually barely talks to him until like half way through the second book. while she definitely stresses about his opinion in book 1 its the second one when she acknowledges hes attractive and values him as friend. but! its the THIRD book where they actually start shit at the end of the book but AGAIN- windy poplars is just letters. no contact. we literally have to wait like 4 books to see them together all the time n then they have kids and the story starts to be handed over to the kids like.  anne’s story definitely highlights gilbert but it also highlights marilla and matthew and diana and mrs lynde and stella and priscilla and even jane andrews and ruby gillis. if they are not all highlights then wyd.  tbh i think anne with an e captures that her story is MORE than dianagilbertmarrillaandmatthew and it gets that shes also in love with the WORLD the only thing i have with anne with an e is that it forgets for the most part that anne is always supposed to be the light story that brings your day hope, that avonlea and green gables is where she reached everything gentle in her life. she found god, and friends and family and puffed sleeves! and that should be the focus! her imagination should always bring her better things! and anne with an e is definitely realistic i guess but its always way too dark for me to really be able to love it truly. like i love the cast, its one of my favourite casts for anne n co (except for ruby tho my personal favourite ruby gillis actually goes to my school so that might be a bias but whatever) but yeah! and i think part of the problem with anne with an e is that its told through a tv format and i think with certain books tv is a rlly bad field! n anne’s story is just not told best thru the current trends in tv. anne with an e is a rlly good show that i like but i cant love it as an anne adaptation, i have to love it separately, yaknow?

n of course, like it briefly mentioned above the books r dated n not perfect n dont have the best outlook on tings n honestly is probably not the best book for the average person bc its about an 11-17 yr old ginger white girl in the late-early 1900s which is why the anne with an e series is better at looking to a bigger more modern n diverse audience. if only it couldve captured more hope along with tackling important issues n having diversity n rep :,). but i guess it being “realistic” is more important or smth. idk.

nyways. stan anne shirley <3