#it also became way longer than i meant it to be... i had a lot to say! sue me!

[earlycuntsets]

english translation:

pg 1. "VISIONS

MUSIC FROM PASSION

www.visions.de

Gerard Way

and the fight against one's own image"

pg 2.

"Double attempt

my chemical rumanre

It is the story of an album that never became one and a band that is fighting against its external image: My Chemical Romance reinvent themselves as a pop art band, as futuristic Mad Maxes with funky laser guns in a universe of quotes, cross-references and broken meta levels. The end result is Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys - a record that would not exist in this form if My Chemical Romance had not failed at the first attempt.

TEXT: JAN SCHWARZKAMP

PHOTOS: SEBASTIAN ARTZ"

pg 3. " A new My Chem song with rough edges was Black Dragon Fighting Society, a hardcore hit in the Misfits style that suited the band perfectly. That's right: "was" and "stood". Because that too is now buried in the archives. "Some people will probably hate me for saying something like that, but: The song is more punk than punk. Nobody expected us of all people to record a song like that. The song was deliberately not meant to be longer than a minute and a half, because only the best songs are that short, if you think of Minor Threat alone." At this point, Gerard has no idea that he is about to make a new start and that Black Dragon Fighting Society will not survive. But there is something that will point the way for the future. A comic. "I'm currently working on a project called The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, which will be completely different to anything you've ever seen from me before. It will be my first adult comic, extremely violent. Imagine it as a sci-fi lo-fi punk odyssey, full of references to the Ramones and with a lot of laser-creaking." The stuff you can knit an album out of, as we will see.

SECOND ATTEMPT

End of September 2010, ten months later. A trailer for the new My Chem album has been circulating online for three days. Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys is what it is called. The trailer shows the four protagonists: Gerard, Mikey and the two guitarists Frank Iero and Ray Toro. No sign of black parade uniforms, but My Chemical Romance now look like four Tank Girls, reinforced by a sissy rollerboy. There is also action à la Mad Max vs. Power Rangers, a bit of 70s road movie flair in the style of Vanishing Point and the crude, grainy look of grindhouse cinema. The band's reinvention is complete. The light-shy moth has turned into a bright butterfly that fires laser beams.

My Chemical Romance - minus Frank, who is looking after his newborn twins - have been answering journalists' questions since the early hours of the morning. The most luxurious place to do this is the legendary Sunset Marquis rock star hangout in West Hollywood. Let's start where we left off the recording device ten months ago: with the comic, which has now become an album. "Yes, the comic is about exactly the same topics that are also found on the album," confirms Gerard. "The nice thing about the album is that there is no overarching story, it has no concept whatsoever." Gerard, now with red hair and a healthier complexion, is sitting on a couch again, this time without a cigarette. Ray and Mikey support him. Or not. Because if anyone has anything to say here, it's only Gerard.

No concept, then. But soon a comic and finally the corresponding album. On the record we meet the DJ called Dr. Death Defying

From black and long to blonde and short to black and the parade moved on. The new costumes are colorful, the record is not as grim as the last ones. "The new record is the most important thing. The last video we had I had this color palette of red.[makeup]"

FACE

With make-up and goth outfits, Gerard looked for a while like the illegitimate son of Robert Smith and Tim Burton, with his hair tied back. In that respect, My Chemical Romance only had themselves to blame for being perceived by some as a dark puppet show. At least you have to give them credit for being early on in this. "We did what we did, regardless of what others thought of it. When the whole thing became popular, we stopped it because we were simply done with the style. After all, our aim with The Black Parade was not to put on a cabaret show, but rather an expansive, theatrical death rock show."

HANDS

Gerard doesn't play an instrument, even though he's a guitarist. He takes care of the lyrics and conceptual ideas. Armed with a notebook, sketchpad and laptop, he works on his comics mainly on tour. "That works best. I sit in front of my computer and write scripts. I get the most done on the road because I have a lot of free time. And then there are the nights. So what do I do after a show? I write until two in the morning."

FEET

At concerts, Gerard walks a few hundred meters. No instrument ties him to one place. He is one of my absolute favorite front men," says brother Mikey. He is General Patton, that is his role. He is also so intelligent and eloquent. Having a brother in the band makes a lot of things easier. We would hang out together even if we didn't play in a band together."

HAIR

long. And now: red. The gloom has gone, the black look is sunny, the music - brighter. "The lyrics of the new songs on The Black Parade are so dark that I wrote them. The opposite." One change that the band turned to was that of teenagers. They were already fed up with black and white."

COMPLEXION

You can't tell from the photo, but the California sun is rubbing off on Way's new home. Gerard looks like he's just come back from a beach holiday. "I'm quite happy about that. There's no reason for me to stay pale," he says. Brother Mikey adds: "29 years of pale skin is enough."

T-SHIRT

"It has no political meaning. The American flag is used all the time anyway." In the interview, Way is wearing Chucks with the Stars Spangled Banner. We'll probably have to ask ourselves that question more often in the near future. The record is clearly not political, and neither is the look. We're just using it - a flag is like a tribal, you mark your territory with it. Our corporate identity, the symbol with the spider, is also such a powerful, universally applicable symbol."

PANTS & JACKET

The look changed: Gerard and the band won't be appearing on stage in simple denim outfits any time soon. "We wore marching band uniforms for three or four years," says Mikey. When we came back from the Black Parade tour, we had to redefine our lives and deconstruct ourselves. We wanted to drop everything and see what was left. Killjoys is the result of that - as if we were rebelling against The Black Parade, taking a stand against our own last album. A trailer shows the band as colorful end-time punks with laser pistols and Pontiac Trans Ams. Fans are already sending us photos, inventing color concepts for their Killjoy gangs and making their own weapons." "Sure, there have been things like that before," says Gerard, but what band offers that today? It's like a new Star Wars movie coming out. Nobody knows exactly who this Darth Maul is yet, but people are already dressing up like him. "Last time, our fans designed their own uniforms. This Killjoys thing is a bit more personal because it leaves more room for interpretation. The kids aren't dressing up like us anymore, they're creating their own characters."

pg 4. "Dr. Death. He delivers the intro, reads a traffic report and hosts the spectacle. There is a trailer for the record and now also a music video for the single Na Na Na, which is about our heroes and their new alter egos Party Poison (Gerard), Kid Cobra (Mikey), Fun Ghoul (Frank) and Jet Star (Ray). That's not a concept? "Well, yes, it is. But what it is supposed to be above all is a big pop art experiment. As it progresses, the fans and we will add more and more to the story. For the comic itself, my co-author and I already have precise ideas about what will happen. But we could also still question everything. If we shoot scenes in the desert, for example, they will dictate what the comic will look like." Aha. Let's wait and see instead of going into too much detail. Otherwise we'll get tangled up like in the confusing universe of Coheed And Cambria.

When we met last year, there were seven songs to listen to, none of which made it onto the album, or at most in a heavily modified form. What happened?

"When we met, we were mixing. Ray was at home with family things. Frank and I were trying to make the album sound the way we wanted it to. But it didn't work. Since I'm only the lyricist, I couldn't explain in musical terms what sounded wrong to me. Anyway, we had to approach it from scratch and talk to our producer Rob Cavallo about how we could do it. I had a song called Na Na Na that I had written in the desert. While we were still working on the old recordings, I said: let's record this song. We went into the studio and within one night the thing was done. That's when we realized that we had to rebuild the entire album from scratch, including the songs that we had already finished."

Last time you said that the new album would be a reaction to how you are perceived as a band. What is the situation now?

"It can't be about what anyone thinks of what you do. It's about doing it for yourself. That would be the worst thing: making music for the people who

not like you just so they like you. Should I be a bit tougher? Or more punk somehow? Will you like me then? Nah, not with me. That was also my biggest beef with the last recordings. They were good, but not outstanding. And if I had any complaints about them, it was the feeling that I had accommodated other people's views too much. We wanted to assert ourselves as a rock band. We only managed that with Killjoys."

The days of The Black Parade, the big gestures and all the pomp, definitely seem to be over. Looking back, did you lay it on too thick?

"Yes and no. It was an extremely ambitious album. I wouldn't say it was too hard-working, because we didn't try too hard. But we put a lot of work into it. We had to use a certain arrogance for the album. A lot of people thought at the time that we were a flash in the pan. We had released a hit album and were now going to go under with the emo hype. So we exaggerated everything, a defiant reaction. Even though it wasn't fun at times, we were constantly laughing because we felt kind of stupid doing it. With Killjoys we may not have laughed as much - but we had more fun."

THE WATCHMEN

The last sign of life from the band before Killjoys was the Bob Dylan cover Desolation Row on the soundtrack to the graphic novel adaptation The Watchmen. The video for the song was directed by Zach Snyder. "For free," Gerard marvels to this day. "Zach was so in love with his own film that he was still re-shooting scenes even though he had already finished it. This included the video for our song, which was obviously very important to him. He wanted to know what I thought about it. I told him that our cover version should sound like the Jim Carroll song People Who Died - like a big, loud 'Fuck you!', the film is one too." Snyder chose My Chem because he knew that Gerard is a comic book author and that his The Umbrella Academy, like The Watchmen, won an Eisner Award.

GRANT MORRISON

Morrison plays the bald villain in the Killjoys trailer. He's a comic book writer like me and my personal hero. We've been friends since The Black Parade. Greg is one of the most respected artists in the comics world, alongside Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman. He wrote his own character from the trailer and designed the costume himself.

COMICS FOR YOU

The second part of The Umbrella Academy, called Dallas, has just been published in German translation by Cross Cult Verlag and has already won Gerard and illustrator Gabriel Bá the Eisner Award. We are giving away three copies of the hardback piece of bloody pop culture. Write an email with the subject "Dallas" to verlosung@visions.de. The deadline for entries is November 19th.

11/2010 visions magazine

[errorkey]

wait i feel like i Need to say something re: the kantbison bondage scene in ep3 part 4

i've been seeing a Lot of people be like "yeah no that scene was really off-putting idk ://"... i think that was the point?

neither of them are actually in the moment. kant is very clearly not enjoying himself At All, and bison is inebriated (and drugged???) past the point of real comprehension.

but that's the thing – that scene isn't about the two of them having sex. it's about them trying to desperately get their hands on what they really want.

the show's established that kant isn't into this stuff in the least (as seen post-fadel's confrontation at the tattoo parlor), but he's willing to suffer through it, to grit his teeth and bear through the quite literal pain. he's willing to do anything, as long as he'll finally be able to get the evidence he needs to be free of these things forever.

on the other hand, we've seen bison state over and over how much he's wanted to do all of this, how he's never been able to find someone to actually hold power over. and now bison – younger brother, "never allowed to make a real decision of his own for even a day in his life" bison – is finally, finally able to take control over someone's life; something that's meaningful, something that matters.

that's exactly why i'd argue that the entire scene isn't meant to be "hot" or "appealing," but rather unsettling and weird (especially with the constant cuts to fadel digging(?) mysteriously in a field, but that's a whole other thing).

TLDR; kantbison's first time may have been passion and lust incarnate, but this one is so far removed from that. because, this time, neither of them actually care about the sex more than about what it means – a means to an end for kant, and a first glimpse at unadulterated power for bison.

[giantkillerjack]

Dear horror youtubers who write video essays explaining and examining extraordinary works of horror that I deeply want to see and understand but will literally never be able to safely watch due to my own trauma - thus providing me with a way to learn from and connect to works of art that would be otherwise forever inaccessible to me,

I love you.

[shroomierambles]

Not to jump the gun but I think I’ve unlocked the secret to my executive function ohmygod

I realized the roots of my procrastination/executive function issues & after processing it, it’s like that wall that’s stopped me from doing anything has come down (or at least shrunk down to an easily jump-over-able height)

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and the kids ask them how did they fall in love.

pairing: dad & husband! alhaitham, cyno, kaedehara kazuha, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x fem! reader

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. use of farsi, arabic and japanese terms. there's a lot of dialogues but there's a plot. approximately 7.3k words. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Wriothesley

You watched Cameron and Éveline playing on the other side of the room as you tirelessly documented the files that had arrived from the courthouse that afternoon. 

Wriothesley have been patrolling the prison’ Forbbiden Zone all day after receiving an information about some anomaly within the fortress, so you barely had seen your husband except for the brief greeting at breakfast.

Distracted with your work, you didn't even notice that both children had stopped building the wooden blocks and Cameron was sitting in the chair in front of you while Eve made herself comfortable on the sofa behind him.

“Mummy?” he called and you looked up from the papers at him and smiled.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“How did you and Daddy fall in love?”

Your son's sudden question took you by surprise, leaving you stunned for a few seconds. But you soon found yourself chuckling and ignoring your work to pay attention to the boy. 

“Why the sudden curiosity, Cam? That's pretty out of your character, you know.”

Cameron shrugged.

“I just want to know how you and Daddy met.”

Smiling softly, you nodded.

“Very well. Let’s see… It all began a long time ago, when mommy was sentenced to the Fortress of Meropide,” you narrated in a reflexive tone and waved for Éveline to come closer to sit next to her friend.

“Back then, mama wasn’t the person she is today, you see. I was rude, I was always angry, I picked fights with anyone who crossed my way and I didn't let anyone get close to me. You could say I wasn't a very nice person to be around, and because I was in prison, it also meant I wasn't a good person either.”

“I simply couldn't get used to life down here as most of the prisoners do, nor do I could accept the sentence that was given to me. Therefore, I rebelled in every way I could and participated in the fights in the hope that someone would see some value in me and would send me back to the capital. But, well, at that time we had a not very nice director and the inmates cared more about themselves than about others.” 

“Lo and behold, a year passed, your dad ascended as Duke and I was still hoping to be able to get out of here.”

“But then, the night of a new duel had arrived and barely I knew it'd be a night that'd change my life forever. It was the night I finally met your dad. Or better saying, where he became interested in me.”

“I remember it was a quick fight. I was already assured of victory but my opponent decided to bravely face me anyway. Although I was no longer the girl I was a year ago, I was still merciless in the face of a rival. Mostly of the Pankration Ring’s regulars knew my name because I made of it my reputation. That was one of the reasons your dad went to watch the fight that night. He wanted to see who was the person who was sending dozens and dozens of prisoners to Sigewinne,” you smirked at the kids making them giggling. 

“When the fight ended, he came to me wanting to know more about me and asking all kinds of questions. Nevertheless I wasn't interested in relationship, preferring to stay away from every one of the Fortress. Furthermore, I had an exclusive grudge against men so I couldn’t stand his person,” you paused the story to see if Cameron would react negatively to this detail but the boy only seemed more interested by it. 

“I don't remember very well what I said to him, however, it was clear that I wasn't interested and didn't want any kind of flattery from him. Needless to say it didn't work because your dad is as stubborn as a mule.”

“From that night, Wriothesley made a promise to himself to get closer to me and he fulfilled it very well as he kept following me everywhere.”

“It was extremely annoying and I couldn't understand what his curiosity about me was. After all, when I first arrived here he had never shown any sign of acknowledging my existence, so why at that moment?”

“Even though I still didn't understand him and tried at all costs to escape his sight, Wriothesley always found a way to find me and include me in his conversations. It was irritating to get so much attention from the new director of the Fortress of Meropide, and it was even scarier for me not to know what was his intentions either. But, over time, I got used to his presence and even started to yearn for it…”

“A couple of months later I dared to ask him why he insisted on getting closer to me,” you snorted at the memory as a small smile stretched your lips.

“What did he say?” Éveline asked curious.

“He said he wanted me to know that even though I kept pushing everyone away from me, he’d always come back. Because even though I thought I was doing better on my own, no one deserves to be alone and remain unseen.”

“It wasn’t the answer I expected but I felt like all my feelings—all the frustration, anger, sadness, and pain I was carrying at that time were validated, and he was seeing each of them.”

“After that, it took a while longer for me to accept that there was someone who cared about me, but I slowly opened my heart to him.”

“When I finally came to terms with my feelings, I still tested Wriothesley's loyalty a little bit more. I must say it was worth it to see him working hard for two years. Nonetheless, he was and still is the best choice I’ve ever made,” you finish the story and the children clap excitedly making you laugh in amusement.

Unexpectedly, a third person also claps and you see the said person leaning against the stair railing, smirking at you—probably he had been there since the beginning of the story.

“So you mean that all that time I was trying my best to have my feelings acknowledged you were testing me? That hurts, doll.”

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to the children who were entertained by the scene. 

“Just like I’ve said. It was worth each second.”

Neuvillette

“Mummy, daddy. How did you fall in love?” Éveline asks suddenly as she makes her presence known in your husband’s office, making both of you stop your tasks to stare at her.  

“I was playing with Cam today and he asked his mama how she and Monsieur Wriothesley met and fell in love, and it was a very nice story! I want to know how you and papa met and fell in love too!” she says with a rare enthusiasm that makes you chuckle and Neuvillette smiles fondly.

“My my, if my beautiful Line isn’t curious today, huh?” you tease your daughter and leave a quick peck on her pale cheek soon after. “Well, let me see… Everything began when mama was sentenced to prison,” you chuckle when Éveline's blue eyes widen. 

“No need to get your little head stewing with that, angel. It was years ago and mama didn’t stay there too long either. You see, your mom used to do some… inappropriate stuff and I ended up going to trial for that.” 

Neuvillette snorted softly from his desk.

“Inappropriate is a very polite way for your mom to say she used to be involved with a lot of illegal matters, darling,” Neuvillette pointed out with a small smirk himself as he stopped his reading to stare at you. 

“Oh, shush you, Neuvi. You say that as if it was an unforgivable crime when it wasn’t,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance making Éveline giggle, “As I was saying, angel. Mama went to trial and, of course, your papa was the only one to conduct it.” 

“You see, I already knew who was he—actually, who didn't? The just and benevolent but impartial Iudex of Fontaine. Although, I had never seen him in person until the day I had to show at court.”

“At that time I’d never admit it but I was very anxious to meet the head judge of Fontaine. When you get involved in reckless things, you think you're smarter than everyone and will never get caught, but little did I know that your dad had been tracking and watching me for ages.”

“And then when I finally stood in front of him, my nervousness strangely disappeared and became more like a curiosity. After all, I had only heard about the Iudex's morals and not his personality much less his appearance, so it was clear to everyone at the court that I was very intrigued by that man standing above me.”

“As the trial proceeded, he gave me a five-year sentence in the Fortress of Meropide which I managed to reduce by eight months for good behavior,” you winked at your daughter who kept listening to your storytelling, dazzled. “Not only did I refuse to be there in prison away from my own business, but I felt more motivated to return to the surface to learn more about your dad.”

“When I finally got back to the city, I used all my means to get your dad’s attention again—which actually worked several times since he likes to keep an eye on Fontaine’s order.” 

“Then, the months were passing by and my curiosity and interest just kept growing. And suddenly, I caught myself falling in love with all the things I was learning about him.”

“Even though it was fun to use of wrong ways to get the attention of the man you like, it was also tiring. And that situation was also reaching a point where I felt like your dad wasn't giving me the signals I was expecting him to do, so I was also getting stressed. Maybe he isn’t as fond of me as I am of him, that was what I thought.”

“Nevertheless, I'm a very resilient woman. I didn't let myself sink into self-pity, much less feel sad about the lack of reciprocity in love so I opened a new business here in the capital saying I wanted to live a peaceful life, and see where it’d take me. Fortunately here I could make great friends, a lot of associates, and even more trades.”

“And contrary to my guessing, Neuvi eventually started to visit my store where we had more appropriate interactions and talks, much for my joy.”

“I kept falling in love with him every day, you know? Thankfully your dad is a gentleman and he didn't take too long to ask me on a date. From then on, we became almost inseparable. That’s our story.” 

As you finish your love story, you could see your daughter’s eyes sparkling like two beautiful gems and a huge smile shining on her face. It made you happy that she enjoyed the story of how her parents met instead of getting mixed feelings by it—after all, the things you still do are better kept hidden until she’s older enough to understand them. 

You and your family kept talking about the said topic for a while, but eventually, you had to say goodbye to them to leave for a meeting with some partners from your business which you already were late for.

Unbeknownst to you though, Éveline and Neuvillette who were still in the office, shared your love story once again. But this time, it was a version you still haven’t heard.

Perhaps you'd never know either as it became a secret shared only between father and daughter. 

“I fell in love with your mom at the very moment I saw her.”

Lyney

The twins' little nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house before it took them to the kitchen where you and Lyney were busy cleaning the lunch dishes. 

“Mommy, mommy! Uncle Freminet just read a book to Quentin and me and we want to know how you and Daddy fell in love too!” exclaimed Corinne, smiling excitedly. 

“Oh my. That was quite sudden,” you laughed as you dried the last dish of the day and put it away immediately to give your full attention to the children, “I bet it was a very romantic book for you to be so excited about.” 

“It was!”, they exclaimed together making you and Lyney laugh. 

“I don't see why not, then. It may not be as exciting as the tale Freminet read to you, but I think you'll like it too,” you say sitting at the table and placing Corinne on your lap while Lyney does the same with Quentin. 

“Well, I think our story is much more charming than the one in the book that Uncle Freminet read to you,” replies your husband, sending you a wink, “You could say that like a fairy tale, the magician prince fell in love at first sight with the most beautiful princess in the entire kingdom.”

“Back in those days, a troupe of nomadic artists traveled throughout Teyvat bringing joy and laughter to their audiences. It was your mom’s family.”

“They traveled across all nations enchanting its residents with their music, acrobatics, but especially with their dance. And, believe it or not, they had never come to Fontaine until that day.” 

“As a lover of the art of entertainment, I had to see for myself what a performance by the Pathfinder’s Troupe would be like, they who had a reputation that extended beyond the stars in the sky! Furthermore, as a colleague in the same department, I also wanted to give my final verdict. But truth to be told, daddy was just a little bit of jealous because of all the attention mama’s group was getting at that time,” he made a face at this specific memory that made you and the kids laugh. 

“So when the night of the show came, I finally understood why they were such a success. All the troupe members had a bright, warm smile, seeming to love what they were doing. The music was loud and happy and even though you didn't know the language they sang in, you wanted to join them. It was a simple show, but funny and welcoming.” 

“But then when it came time for your mom to take the stage, there wasn't a person in the audience who wasn't dazzled by her. Including me,” Lyney pauses as he smiles at the memory running through his mind. You smiled back. 

“It was, and still is, the most beautiful performance I had ever seen. Not only did your mom look like a goddess at that moment, with her traditional clothing, makeup, and gold jewelry, but she mesmerized the audience with her movements.” 

“Unfortunately, her dance didn’t last long and she soon left the stage, thanking us all for our presence.” 

“Like several people enchanted by that beautiful dancer, I tried to approach her to say my compliments but—whether you two believe it or not, daddy was scared to death.” 

“Why scared Daddy?” asked Quentin. 

“Mama was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of her, much less offend her with my words,” Lyney replies to which the two children nod as if they understood. 

“Luckily, daddy always had a secret or two up his sleeve, and when I approached her, I did a little magic trick turning a tiny spark of my vision into a Rainbow Rose, which at the time I thought was my worst trick but it seemed to make your mom happy.” 

“It was the most genuine and sweetest gesture anyone had ever made to me,” you extend your hand to your husband across the table and he takes it, placing a light kiss on your palm. 

“We didn't have much time left together since she was traveling back to her hometown the next morning, and nor did I have the courage to invite her to dinner either, something that caused me deep regret and even made Aunt Lynette annoyed.” 

“But before she left, I promised I’d see her again. And, luckily, a few months later, she and her troupe returned to Fontaine to perform a new show.” 

“And then you said you loved each other?” Corinne asked innocently.

You and Lyney laughed, “No Rin. Far from it actually. Your dad could barely get close to me without him stuttering something indecipherable, turning around, and disappearing into the city streets,” you teased your husband which made him feel embarrassed. 

“What can I say? You always seemed to get more beautiful each day and I had never been interested in anyone before. Besides, there were a lot of suitors vying for your attention so I figured you wouldn’t be interested in me.” 

You roll your eyes in amusement, “And look where we are now.” 

“So how did you start to love each other?” Quentin asks, still in doubt. 

“After many failed attempts by your papa, he finally managed to invite me to dinner—which I accepted without thinking twice. After that, he felt more confident talking to me and asking me out,” you say, “But there were also many times when we were away from each other due to our work.” 

“I knew I loved the troupe and I loved being on the road traveling and performing in different countries but I was also in love with your papa. When I was with him… I knew I had found a home. So I left the troupe, came to Fontaine, confessed my feelings to him and, fortunately, he confessed me back.” 

“And since then we have been living happily ever after. The end!” Lyney jokes and you and the twins giggles again. 

“So! Did you like the story?” you ask. 

Corinne is the first to nod eagerly. Her beautiful purple eyes shone like two amethysts in pure joy towards her parents' love story. 

Quentin in turn… 

“Meh. I thought Daddy had fight a dragon to save you.” 

You and Lyney stare at each other for a while before laughing loudly, catching the attention of Lynette and Freminet as they enter the kitchen. 

Yeah. You couldn't deny it. Fighting a dragon seemed more exciting in this case.

Kazuha

“It’s more precise to say that love has fallen on me,” Kazuha said as he sat Kazumi on his right leg and little Kiyomi on his left. His children looked at him with a confused expression making him chuckle. 

“It was a long time ago. We were sailing on the waters east of Mondstadt when I felt an unknown agitation being carried by the wind currents.”

“You should know that it’s pretty rare to face sea creatures nowadays due to fishing, but at that time, it was an occurrence we faced quite often so we should've always be prepared for it. And as part of The Crux’s crew, it was my job to stay vigilant, so I immediately informed our captain and mates to stay alert and careful for a possible attack—although I must say I wasn’t alarmed as I should be. Something in my instincts told me to not be afraid,” he smiled at the memories. 

“Then, as if to confirm my predictions, we saw a shadow crossing the skies and falling not soon after. No one seemed to react in time, however, I had instantly prepared myself with the help of my vision for whatever was coming to us.” 

“That was when your mom fell directly into my arms, surprising everyone on the ship because I had just saved her life from a free fall after one of the wings of her wind glider broke,” the kids gasped and he kept softly smiling at them.

“I feared that your mama had hurt herself during the fall but when she finally looked at me she was giving me that gorgeous, bright smile of hers. I think it was at that exact moment where she had my heart.” 

“Until that moment I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. She looked stunning, wonderful. As radiant as the first sun ray of the morning.”

“I could see she was thanking me for saving her life as her lips kept moving, but all I could do at that moment was stare at her, completely mesmerized. It was quite impossible not to be that one who was falling in love at that very moment.” 

“After that, she started accompanying us on some journeys and even took us on some of her adventures. I was in love with her free spirit, yes, but even more so with her person. It didn't take long for us to get closer, and starting to date her was as natural as having her in my life.”

“That's our story. It is still being written, however, this time we have you, our most beloved children, to share our memories with.”

As he finished it, Kazuha noticed the dreamy and joyful expressions on both children's faces. Kiyomi seemed the most enchanted by the story since she had inherited the romantic spirit of both her parents while Kazumi pretended to be unimpressed when in fact, inwardly, he was eager for more details of it. The patriarch couldn’t hide his amusement at the view. 

Both siblings showed excitedly their enthusiasm towards their parents’ love story with some funny and cute comments here and there which, eventually, drew your attention to the living room they were in.

When you walked in with a baby Haruki sleeping in your arms, your family stopped their conversation to stare at you which made you raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“What? Am I interrupting something? I heard a loud noise coming from here and came to see what you two little things were up to.” 

Kazumi and Kiyomi looked briefly at each other before giggling cutely. 

“Otochan was telling us the story of how you met and how he fell in love with you,” your daughter responds excitedly. 

This immediately brings a smile to your face, making you walk over and sit on the couch next to them, adjusting Haru comfortably in your arms as you lean towards your two older children and husband. 

“Oh, I love this story! Did you guys know? I literally fell for your dad!”

Kaveh

It was late at night and you and Kaveh were putting Zahra to sleep. 

Normally, you and your husband would take turns with your daughter's nighttime routine so that the tasks wouldn’t be exhausting for only one person. 

However, the little girl had woken up sick that morning and had demanded her both parents' attention all day, acting more whiny than usual. So it wasn't unexpected that she also asked for both parents to be with her at bedtime.  

Lying in bed with Zahra, you stroked her blonde curls as she snuggled into the warmth of your embrace, happy for the attention she received. In turn, Kaveh was looking for a book from her mini library to read to her, although you could tell that he was having a hard time making the right choice since none of the options seemed to catch his daughter's attention. 

“Umm… We have The Boar Princess, Flowers for Princess Fischl, and The Fox in the Dandelion Sea but Daddy doesn’t know if you want me to read one of those titles again,” Kaveh showed her the books but Zahra denied them.

“No! Daddy already read The Boar Princess yesterday and I don't like Princess Fischl,” she responds grumpily, which draws a sigh of defeat from the architect. 

“Okay, I'm out of ideas. Azizam, I need help here.” 

You giggled softly but went to your husband's aid, “Well... How about we change the scene a little and tell you a different story?”

Zahra's eyes suddenly widened in curiosity and she nodded enthusiastically. 

“How about if we tell you something new? Something that doesn't even exist in books. The story of how Mommy and Daddy met!”

Kaveh, also seeming to brighten at your suggestion, takes the other spot on your daughter's tiny bed and wraps his arm around both of your waists.

“Ah, this is one of my favorite stories,” he comments, sending you a small smile. 

“It’s better than The Boar Princess, mummy?” asks Zahra excitedly. 

You laugh, “Much better than The Boar Princess, sweetheart. Honey, how about you do the honors?” you suggest in a mischievous tone that catches Kaveh off guard, but seeing that you weren't going to budge and his little princess seemed increasingly anxious, the architect cleared his throat before starting to recount about the day he finally met you. 

“Let’s see… It was at a time when life was a bit of a rollercoaster for me.”

“You know, I’ve always been very passionate about my work and have always dedicated myself to the maximum to bring my projects to life. I was ambitious, hard-working, and had dozens of clients but I was also quite ignorant. It didn't matter how great my desire to build houses and palaces was, or how strong were my inspiration when my wallet didn't match my reality. Neither did my mental state...” 

“Then one day I received a letter. It was the Liyue's Tianquan inviting me to participate in an exclusive civil construction project and my participation in this event would be of great honor.” 

“When I saw that opportunity, I grabbed it without thinking about the consequences. After all, it wasn't every day that I received a chance like that, and even though my work had a certain popularity, not all clients were able to follow my ideas. So I imagined that being in a foreign environment with people who apparently valued my projects would be like reaching the purpose I wanted. Plus the paycheck seemed to be rewarding too.” 

You snort in amusement at his last comment. 

“So I went to Liyue and soon I was in a huge meeting room with professionals coming from all Teyvat. As the project meeting continued I found myself increasingly out of place by the suggestions my colleagues were making. They were so closed-minded. When they’re thinking about time, I wanted quality. While they wanted cost savings, I wanted to do something to make the people involved in that construction feel worthy of a home. It was disappointing and I was starting to get sick of that place.”

“That’s when your mama decided to speak out,” the man’s eyes twinkled briefly. 

“Unlike those people who had simple and selfish ideals, your mom was brilliant, confident, and bold. Not only did she catch the attention of the men in that room with her beauty and elegance, but it was certainly her intelligence that captured the hearts of many that day. Including mine.” 

“Until that moment I hadn’t given my opinion, but knowing that one of the main people in charge had a similar vision to mine, I felt excited to give my ideas. It was one of the moments I felt most anxious too.” 

Zahra frowned, “Why Daddy?”

“I think at that moment I got it into my head that your mom had high expectations for me and I didn’t want to disappoint her.” 

“But luckily that wasn't the case as she seemed to approve each of my ideas. That’s how we ended up forming a partnership.” 

“As we worked together, I found myself liking her more and more. At the time, this was also a big obstacle for me as I didn’t like mixing my professional and personal relationships.”

"But— aah, your mama had a way of enchanting me every day. She appreciated my work and my dedication. She encouraged me to think bigger and challenged me to be bolder not only with my work but with myself. Somewhere along the way, our nightly sessions turned into conversations about life, ambitions, and even our struggles.”

“A few months later, when we finally finished the construction, I felt brave enough to confess my feelings to her, and guess what your mom said, Zaza?” 

“What? What did she say Daddy?” she asked expectantly. 

“Mama said she wouldn’t accept my feelings until I sorted my life out,” he huffed making you laugh and your daughter look at you in disbelief. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Zaza. At the time it was the right decision to make. I was already in love with your papa as much as he was with me, but I knew he wasn't ready to get into a relationship when he wasn't okay with himself. I wanted someone who could provide me security and was confidence in themselves, and your daddy didn’t have those qualities.”

“Ouch, azizam. You don’t need to rub it in!” 

“I’m just saying.”

Kaveh sighed resignedly, “Anyway, she said she wouldn’t accept my feelings but would wait for me as long as necessary.” 

“After that, I returned to Sumeru but this time determined to prove myself to her. I used every means possible to resolve my financial, family, and personal issues. I worked tirelessly to find my path and build my own home. And almost two years later I traveled back to Liyue. But this time I was sure I wouldn't leave without my girl, and so I did,” he finishes the story, and you clap softly while Zahra smiles tiredly. 

“It was a great story, azizam,” you comment, smiling, “But I think now it’s time to finish for today because our little princess needs to sleep well to wake up better tomorrow.” 

Kaveh looks at his daughter's sleepy eyes and agrees. 

You place Zahra back on her pillow and cover her with the blanket, placing a kiss on her forehead—Kaveh copying your gesture soon after.

Saying goodnight to the girl, you and your husband leave the room together, leaving the door ajar the way she liked it. 

On the way to your room, you couldn't help but notice how Kaveh looked so down and you frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

He clicks his tongue and turns his face to the other side, mumbling, “I was just thinking you didn't need to say that I didn't look confident back then, you know? What about now, azizam? What will my own daughter think of me? She’ll think I’m lame!”

You roll your eyes. 

“You surely look lame now.” 

“Hey!”

Alhaitham

The heavy oak door creaked softly as Alhaitham entered the house, his mind finally relaxing after a long day at work. 

Right in the living room, the scribe identified your very focused presence with what he presumed to be correcting tests and homework. So as not to make his arrival go unnoticed, Alhaitham approaches and gently touches your shoulders, making you jump in scared. 

“I’m sorry, habibti. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says and you smile at him. 

“It’s okay, dear,” you reach for his hand and squeeze it in greeting, “But you should learn to make a little more noise, Haitham. Your presence is as subtle as that of a cat. Anyway, welcome home.” 

Alhaitham kisses the top of your head, “Thank you. Where is Hakim?”

You frown and look around the room but don't identify your son's presence anywhere.

“I am not sure, to be honest. He was here with me until a few minutes ago but I don't think watching his mother work is that fun. Maybe he's painting in his room? If he had gone out to play with the twins, he’d have told me,” You conclude. 

Your husband nods, but the faint gleam of recognition in his eyes announces that he already has an idea where the child could be. 

“Very well. I’ll change my clothes first and I’ll make us some tea right after, okay?” 

You nod in thanks and turn your attention to the paperwork while Alhaitham disappears through the halls of the house. 

Instead of making his way to your shared room, the scribe heads to the door of his office where he finds it ajar. Not surprised, Alhaitham approaches and through the small opening observes the brightly lit room as Hakim makes himself comfortable on the floor leafing through a specific book but surrounded by dozens of others—which he assumes have fallen to the floor as his son tried to reach them from the highest shelf. 

A mixture of fatherly pride and affection surfaced beneath his stoic exterior. 

Clearing his throat lightly, Alhaitham approaches with measured steps, not wanting to scare the boy.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he announces making Hakim jump in fright, just like his mother did. Alhaitham snorted in amusement. 

“Sorry Baba. I know you don’t like anyone touching your things, but I was going to tidy everything up later.” 

“It’s okay, Kim,” he replies calmly and sits down in the armchair located in the middle of the office, “What are you reading?”

Hakim smiles adorably showing off the book he was so interested in and Alhaitham couldn't help but chuckle. 

“It’s a cool book!” comments the boy, “I can't read what's written because there are lots of strange letters and drawings but they're cool too.” 

“I expect so. After all, your mother wrote this book.” 

Hakim’s interest peaks, “Really?” 

“Yes. It's one of my favorite ones, by the way. It was through it that I met her”, he pats his thighs inviting Hakim to sit on his lap which the boy accomplishes happily. 

Hakim leans back against his father's warm chest, hugging the book affectionately, “How did you two meet, Baba?”

Alhaitham was silent for a few seconds before letting out a reflective sigh. 

“It was at the same time that I was holding the position of Acting Grand Sage”, Alhaitham began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. 

“Sumeru was going through great changes due to everything that had happened and, inevitably, Akademiya had been one of the main places affected by it. I ended up temporarily taking on the role of the great sage out of respect for Buer's wise decision, although it wasn't exactly the job I was looking for.”

“There were many responsibilities, many commitments, and daily there were dozens of issues to be resolved due to years, centuries of bad motivations. So you can imagine how exhausting it was to rebuild an entire institution from zero and be that person that people followed orders.”  

“Until one day your mother suddenly appears as a new candidate for the position of professor in the Darshan of Haravatat.” 

“I hadn't met her at first since our paths never seemed to cross. Yet the words in the halls of the Akademiya were always the same: the new professor was like a breath of fresh air in that old institution—beautiful, kind, with a passion for knowledge that matched her beauty.”

He paused, remembering the scene as if it were yesterday. “One afternoon, I found myself in the library again, buried in a book—absorbing all that knowledge with a hunger that had previously been unknown to me. Little did I know that it was her book that I was reading. Such insight, elegance, and dedication to details had uniquely captivated me.”

“I was pretty engrossed in the text when I heard footsteps approaching,” Alhaitham continued, with a hint of amusement in his tone. “She stood by my side and gently asked about the book, curious to know what I thought, and so our conversation began.”

“We didn't talk much that day as I was a much more reserved person, but she was exactly as the scholars’ whispers described her. Through the brief talk we had, I was able to explore philosophical thoughts and complexities of life that I had never explored before. Your mother had a way of drawing out my thoughts, of making me see beyond the surface and into the depths of existence. That’s what attracted me to her in the first place.”  

“As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, we met at the library quite often. Our discussions deepened, and with each talk, I found myself opening up in ways I hadn't before.”

“I think she knew back then that she had caught my attention, although it took her a little longer to realize that she had stolen my heart,” he chuckles softly. Hakim smiles in delight.

“We began spending more time together beyond the Akademiya strongholds, exploring the world around us. It made me realize how much I wanted her in my life. In that same way. Every day." 

“And then one night, in our quiet sanctuary in that very hallway in the library, I told her those exact words,” Alhaitham's voice softened with love.

“She smiled that radiant smile of hers that illuminates even the darkest corners of my soul and said she felt the same way. At that moment, Hakim, it was like the stars aligned and everything fell into place.” 

“That’s how I met your mother, Kim. In the silent corners of knowledge and amid the pages of her wisdom, our love story began—a story woven with understanding, respect, and a bond that grows stronger with each passing day.”

Alhaitham ends the story with a slight smile to which his son imitates him, admiringly. 

“I hope one day I can meet someone like you and mama did, Baba.” 

The scribe smirks in amusement, “I hope for the same, child.”

Not long after, you made your entrance into the office carrying in your hands a tray with three cups of tea and milk and Hakim's favorite cookies. 

“I knew you boys were hiding out here,” you smile at your husband and son, completely oblivious to the story they just shared. “Come on. Let’s eat while the cookies are still warm.”

Cyno 

The whole family was gathered in front of the fireplace reviewing some photos that you had captured and saved over the years. 

From your days as an eremite to the twins' first steps, every moment was recorded in several photographs that you kept with the greatest care so that, from time to time, you could remember them again with a nostalgic feeling. And currently, this was one of those moments. 

Aryan and Isaar were having fun with some older photos of Cyno, courtesy of Cyrus, while you and he organized the rest of the albums back into the box they belonged to. 

It was a serene moment, of pure bliss and harmony. Something you wish you could capture with your kamera again, but you'd rather enjoy just being with the people you loved most. 

“Hey Mama, what picture is that?” asks Isaar, breaking you out of your daydreams. 

When you recognize the black and white, slightly blurred image, a giggle couldn't help but escape your lips. 

“Aah, it's from our first date,” you reply happily, “If I'm not mistaken, Dehya and Candace had followed us that day and took this one. Nobody could believe that the emotionless and unapproachable General Mahamatra could go on a date with a beautiful girl, so I think they wanted to have proof that this day happened.” 

Cyno snorts and the twins nod in understanding, smiling at each other. 

“How did you and Baba meet?” Aryan asks shortly afterward, still mesmerized by the photo in his brother's hands. 

You and Cyno locked eyes briefly and a mischievous smirk crossed your face as the flicker of a smile curved his lips. 

“Well, you boys won't believe it, but it all started when I defeated your baba in a fight.” 

The smile on Cyno's face immediately disappeared, being replaced by an expression of slight unbelief and confusion. “You didn't defeat me, hayati. I remember very well that it was a draw.”

You made a slight grimace as if you didn't believe the blasphemy your husband was saying, which left him more incredulous than before, and your children quite amused. 

“These are irrelevant details, my love. Let’s pretend you never said that.” 

“Anyway, I was a different person back then,” you continued, your eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and pride. “Living according to my clan's philosophy but in a more devious and rebellious way, if I may say so. I wanted to chart a path in a way that’d only suit me.” 

“I used to do several illegal jobs for which the matras already persecuted me for, but it was deceiving the young and naive scholars from Akademiya that amused me and made my reputation grow among its guards. No need to give me that look, boys. Mama only took them to forbidden ruins and mausoleums in exchange for extra money,” you added the last part as you received strange looks from the twins. 

Cyno, seeing the scene, snorted in amusement, “You’re not helping yourself, hayati.”

“If they want to hear the true and complete version they better be prepared to hear what happened,” you wrinkled your nose. 

To save you from more possible judgments, Cyno resumed the thread, his deep voice cutting through the room. “I was immediately informed about the incidents that were occurring with certain frequency, and tasked with restoring order. It was supposed to be a job easily accomplished even by the lowest ranking among the matras, but not only were your mom’s activities not within the law, as no officer was a match for her strength either. Many scholars had not been discovered of their misconduct thanks to her,” he admitted, a slight affectionate smile crossing his face. 

His subtle compliment made you shy. 

“And just as your dad’s reputation preceded him, he tracked me like a bloodhound,” you said with a hint of admiration underlying your words. “Until one afternoon I caught myself off guard on the outskirts of the Sobek Oasis and he appeared announcing that he’d take me to the capital so I could have my punishment. I found him incredibly attractive at that moment, but I wasn't going to give in so easily either. In the end, we ended up fighting,” you giggled remembering the duel. Two forces of nature colliding: fire and thunder. 

“It was a draw,” Cyno resumes saying it again, “Although I must admit your mom gave me a bit of a hard time. It was my first time facing a formidable opponent who was equal to me—I dare say even superior to my abilities.” 

Isaar, the more curious of the twins, leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement, “What happened next?” 

You exchanged a knowing look with your husband, silently communicating with him. 

“Well, sometimes life surprises you,” you respond cryptically, reaching out to ruffle the child’s hair in affection. 

Cyno's gaze softened imperceptibly as he continued, “Our paths continued to cross after our first meeting. While on one hand your mom seemed not to give up what she was doing, I felt increasingly motivated, challenged to stop her—after all, not only was this affecting the performance of the Akademiya students, but it was also tarnishing the reputation of the matras who weren’t managing to deal with that situation.” 

“But as time passed and we kept facing each other, we also came to an understanding. Sometimes behind the clash of wills, there is a common thread. That’s how your mom and I realized we were stronger together than we were apart.”

Aryan, although quieter but no less attentive, absorbed his father's words with a thoughtful expression. 

“So, it was like fate, Mama?” he mused aloud.

You smiled warmly at your children, your heart filling with maternal pride. 

“Maybe it was. In an unpredictable way, but woven by the hands of fate,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of years of shared history and love.

As the night progressed, you and Cyno continued to tell the twins your stories of adventures, challenges overcome, and the unshakable bond that had been born in infertile soil and blossomed into a deep, beautiful and lasting partnership. 

[starsjulia]

rekindling us // leah williamson

a/n : based of this request!! also so sorry it’s short, school is currently consuming my being.

trigger warnings : accidental mistreatment of spouse? idk

You weren’t a footballer like Leah. You had your own passions, your own world, but you had always been her biggest supporter. Whenever Leah was exhausted after a long day, you’d make sure the house was tidy, cook her favorite meals, and offer her the kind of quiet comfort that came without asking. You didn’t need her to tell you how much she appreciated you—you believed her actions would show it. But lately, the actions weren’t there. The little things had faded away.

Leah was constantly missing plans. The dates you had carefully planned together were brushed off with a casual “Sorry, training went long,” or “I got caught up with the girls, we’ll do it next time.” You understood, at first. You knew how demanding her schedule was, how much her career meant to her. But the cancellations became more frequent, the nights spent waiting for her to come home stretched longer, and slowly, without even realizing it, you began to feel invisible.

You continued to put in the effort, thinking maybe she would notice if you worked harder. You took on even more around the house, making sure Leah didn’t have to lift a finger when she was home. But Leah barely acknowledged it. She was so wrapped up in her own world that she didn’t see how much you were doing, or how much it hurt to be overlooked.

One evening, you decided to make a special dinner. You knew Leah had been under a lot of stress lately, so you thought a quiet evening together would help her unwind. You spent hours preparing a dish (other than party food) that you knew she’d enjoy, setting the table with candles and soft music, hoping it would be a reminder of the love and connection you shared.

But Leah didn’t come home on time. As the hours ticked by, the food grew cold, and your heart sank. When she finally walked through the door, she didn’t even notice the effort you had put in. She tossed her bag on the chair and casually said, “Sorry I’m late. The girls wanted to grab a drink after training.”

You tried to hold it together, but the disappointment was overwhelming. She had forgotten, again. Forgotten the evening you’d planned, forgotten how much you’d been waiting for her. Without saying a word, you got up and went to the bedroom, tears stinging your eyes.

Leah, oblivious at first, finally noticed the candles, the untouched dinner, the quiet emptiness in the room. Her stomach twisted with guilt as she realized she had let you down again. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before making her way to the bedroom.

She found you sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down your face as you hugged your knees to your chest. The sight of you so upset shattered her. She had never seen you like this before, and it hit her hard—how much she had been neglecting you without even realizing it.

“Babe…” Leah’s voice was soft, full of regret. She knelt beside the bed, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away slightly, hurt and frustration etched into every movement.

“Do you even care anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying so hard, Leah. I cook for you, clean for you, wait for you—just to spend a little time with you. But it feels like I’m not even a part of your life anymore. Like you don’t see me.”

Leah’s heart clenched painfully. She hadn’t realized how much her actions had been hurting you. She had been so focused on her career, thinking you’d understand, that she had failed to see how much you were giving and how little she had been offering in return.

“I… I didn’t know,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t see how much I was hurting you, and I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “I feel like I’m doing everything for you, and it’s never enough. I just want to feel like I matter to you. Like I’m more than just someone waiting at home for you.”

Leah’s breath hitched as she took your hands in hers, holding them tightly, as if afraid to let go. “You do matter. You matter more than anything, and I’ve been too caught up in everything else to show you that. I’ve been taking you for granted, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You deserve so much more than what I’ve been giving.”

Your tears fell freely now, but this time, Leah didn’t let go. She pulled you into her arms, holding you close as if trying to make up for all the times she hadn’t. “I’m sorry for missing our dates, for not being there when you needed me. I’ve been selfish, thinking you’d just understand, but that’s not fair. I love you more than anything, and I’m going to show you that. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”

You sobbed into her chest, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally spilling out. “I just miss us, Leah. I miss what we used to have.”

“I miss us too,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And I’m going to make it right. I’ll make sure you never feel like this again. I love you, and I can’t lose you. Not over something like this.”

You stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between you no longer filled with pain but with the promise of something better. Leah’s apologies weren’t just words; you could feel the sincerity in the way she held you, in the way she promised to be more present, more aware.

In the days that followed, Leah kept her word. She made more time for you—whether it was something as simple as cooking dinner together or making sure you had a proper date night each week. She paid attention to the little things, the ones she had overlooked before. Every day, she made sure you felt loved, cherished, and appreciated.

The connection you shared began to heal, piece by piece. Leah started to see just how much you did for her, and she didn’t let a day go by without thanking you. She showed up for you, not just physically, but emotionally, and you could feel the shift in your relationship.

Leah would wrap her arms around you from behind while you cooked, pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering, “Thank you. For everything you do. I love you so much.” You’d smile, feeling the warmth of her love and knowing she truly meant it.

It wasn’t long before you both found your rhythm again. The love between you was stronger now, forged through the realization of what truly mattered. Leah’s career would always be important, but she had finally learned that the most important part of her life was you—the person who had stood by her, supported her, and loved her through everything.

And from that point on, Leah made sure that you always knew just how much you meant to her. Because, in the end, no match, no trophy, no accolade could ever compare to the love she had with you. You were her heart, her home, and she would never let you forget it again.

[mountttmase]

I Bet You Miss Her

Note - Hey guys 🩷 just a cute little baby fic today and thank you to the anon who sent the request in, I hope it’s okay for you 😘 feedback would be appreciated 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5K

Warnings - angst and fluff

Mason always loved a pre-season party, getting everyone together after weeks apart and excited for the season to start usually meant he was in his element but this year was different. You weren’t with him this time.

That didn’t mean he didn’t see you everywhere he looked. That when he watched one of his teammates wrap their arm around their significant other he didn’t feel a pang of emptiness because you weren’t by his side. He knew he should be there with you and he knew this was all his doing but being here hurt more than thought it might.

He felt lost. His arms limp by his sides as he couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands now they weren’t wrapped around yours. His eyes glued to the floor as he knew he’d still be looking for you even though you were miles away and as he stood with Licha and his family he was trying his best to act normal and not let his inner turmoil spill over.

‘So Mase, where’s y/n?’ Muri asked, a bright and friendly smile on her face as she wrapped her hand around Licha’s bicep and the sound of your name sent shock waves through him. He’d been expecting it for a while but he wasn’t sure if he wanted your name brought up in conversation or not. On the one hand he was desperate for someone to bring you up so he could imagine you once more and have an excuse to talk about you but he also knew the memories would just be too painful just like they always were.

‘Oh uh, she’s on a work trip. She’ll be back in a few days’ Mason lied smoothly. His lips pressed into a tight line as he fiddled with the last button on his shirt but thankfully she bought his excuse.

‘Ah amazing, she doing so well for herself. I bet you miss her though’ she pouted and her sympathy just made him feel worse somehow.

‘Yeah, yeah I really do’ Masons whispered and it was like the words hit him in his soul. Gulping back a lump that was rising up his through far too quickly for his liking before raising his glass to his lips in a final attempt to disguise his emotions.

Today had been a lot.

It was officially three months since the breakup and Mason couldn’t have felt worse if he tried.

Nothing had caused the pair of you to break up, nothing big at least. The move from London to Manchester had been tough for the pair of you and you knew he was finding it hard to settle. The constant injuries meant he spent more time with the United staff rather than his teammates that he should have been bonding with and unbeknownst to you one of them was having more of an effect on him than you knew.

What started off as bickering as you were both on edge became bigger arguments as the season wore on. Mason spending longer hours with his new friend on the physio table and at first you didn’t mind because it gave you a chance to cool off but soon enough it got to the point of no return for him.

You always figured the fighting was a phase and something to move past but the morning of a big away game, his first start since October the year before, he’d told you he couldn’t carry on and felt it was best if the pair of you ended things there so it didn’t get any worse.

You were blindsided, it never being in your head that he would end things as you knew you loved him enough to work through it but as soon as he left for the game you packed your car until it was full and made your way back home to London later that evening.

It felt like he was taking the easy way out. Not giving you a chance to fight or say anything back, just telling you he was done and running away so he didn’t have to face the consequences but if that’s what he wanted then that’s what he would get. Driving back to your best friend's house who was ready to welcome you with open arms whilst you cursed his name all night. Confused as to how you’d even got here but you were hoping that when he returned home he’d feel just as awful as you were.

The game went terribly, Mason not really ready to play the amount of time he had been given and even though he wasn’t really to blame the loss hit harder than most. Not speaking a word to anyone unless he had to on the flight home and once he was back in his car he finally let his emotions get the better of him. Slamming his head onto the steering wheel before letting the first few tears fall.

This felt like rock bottom.

Mason knew you were gone as soon as he got home. Your car was gone and your house keys left in the dish on the console table told him as much when he walked in, but he could also feel you were gone. Your presence had been sucked right out of the home you’d built together and Mason felt awful instantly. He’d known since he stepped onto the plane yesterday morning that he’d made a mistake and all he wanted after an awful 12 hours or so was for you to make him feel better like you always did.

He tried every way known to man to try and get a hold of you but nothing seemed to be working. Even contemplating sending a messenger pigeon if he thought that might have worked but after five days of nothing from you he knew you were done. He’d made his bed and now he just had to lie in it no matter how uncomfortable it was.

In the end he figured he’d just wait for you to come to your senses and reply as you must be missing him just as much as he was missing you but the call never came. Just days that turned into weeks of waiting and waiting and soon enough the inevitable questions as to your whereabouts came.

Muri wasn't the first person to ask after you and she wasn’t the first to have been lied to by Mason. Everyone who mentioned you he managed to fob off with a different excuse and at this point you’d been on more girls trips and work trips than he could shake a stick at. He was running out of excuses though and he’d told his mum you’d been ill for so long that she was threatening to come and look after you herself but Mason always had it covered.

He was surprised he’d managed to get away with it for this long without someone coming back at him, thinking word must have gotten back to you eventually but no one ever questioned him and his spiral of lies just kept getting deeper. Too embarrassed to admit he’d let go of the best thing to ever happen to him so he kept going until the excuses no longer sounded plausible.

Where were you? Oh, yeah she’s at the dentist, she’s gone back home to visit her family for a few days, she’s already got plans she can’t cancel he lied but before he knew it he was paying for his sins.

It was 11pm a few days after the pre-season party and Mason was just about to get ready for bed. Switching his tv off and taking his snacks back to the kitchen but that’s as far as he got. The sudden sound of pounding fists on his door startled him and he froze in fear for a moment before he quickly pulled up the doorbell app on his phone. It was clearly a little slow to alert him to someone being outside but was met with a sight he thought he’d never see again.

He was running to open the door in a flash, pulling it open so quickly you almost fell inside as you were still aggressively slamming your fists on it and once you’d gathered yourself Mason swore he’d never seen you so mad before.

‘Why are you telling everyone we’re still together?’ You demanded, your voice loud and hard and he felt his tummy drop as the seconds went by. A deep feeling of regret but also love for you swimming through him and he didn’t quite know what to say.

‘Wha… what are you doing here?’ He asked, trying to avoid the question a little bit he knew it was for nothing. You were beyond furious.

‘Work trip, funnily enough’ you laughed but he knew there wasn’t an ounce of humour in it. Clearly word had gotten back to you and at this moment he didn’t know if he was happy about it or not. ‘Now answer my question’

‘I- I don’t know-‘

‘‘Keep my name out of your mouth, Mason. You broke up with me, remember? You don’t get to do this’ you cut him off, ready to turn around and leave as you had nothing else to say to him but as soon as you looked away his helpless voice ran through the air.

‘Baby please-‘

‘Don’t’ you snapped, holding your finger up so he would stop talking. Your voice now cold compared to what it just was and Mason realised in that moment he’d rather have you angry at him than whatever this was. ‘Just don’t. You don’t get to call me that’

‘Don’t go, I fucked up but we can fix this’ he pleaded but you didn’t come here to talk. You came to tell him to leave you alone and you weren’t prepared for this at all.

‘No we cant-‘

‘Baby please-‘

‘No Mason! Why are you doing this to me? Have you not put me through enough?’ You shouted as you turned back to him fully, your emotions getting the better of you as you tried and failed to hold in a sob and your hands were now balled up into fists as you were so frustrated with the boy in front of you. ‘I’m trying to move on with my life but I’ve got people asking me about you all the time and bringing you up cause you’re still living in some weird fantasy land!’

‘Please baby, please don’t cry I can fix it’ he whimpered as he moved closer to you but made sure to take a step back so he didn’t get too close.

‘There’s nothing to fix! We’re done!’

‘No we’re not. Don't say that okay, you’re mine’ he sobbed as he ran his fingers through his hair erratically. ‘What do you want from me, huh? What is it cause whatever it is I’ll do it now. You want me on my knees? You want me to beg for you back cause I don’t care I’ll do it’ he told you, lowering himself onto the ground in front of you but all it did was make you sob harder. ‘I don’t care that you hate me, I don’t care that you think we’re done. I love you and I'm not giving up on us ever when I know we can work this out’ he cried. ‘Why won’t you listen to me’

‘Because you’re a coward, Mase! You broke up with me before an away game so you could run away. You didnt fight for me then and you don't get to fight for me now’

‘Please’

‘No’ you told him, hoping that could be the end of it so you turned in your heel and ran away. Knowing that he’d be delayed by a few seconds if he wanted to get up and chase you but by the time you’d got in your car and looked back he hadn’t moved from his spot. His chest now pressed to the floor as he’d slumped forward with his head hidden in the crook of his arm and you could see his back moving erratically up and down from what you presumed was him crying.

There was something in you that made you stop, something that made you want to get out of your car and run back to him. To stand him up and hold him and tell him everything was fine and you were still his but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

That didn’t mean you didn’t think of him over the next few days. Hours spent in your friend's box room as you didn’t have the heart to find your own place yet but the sound of his voice and the memory of him being so heartbroken was etched into your brain and you couldn’t seem to move on from it.

You’d never seen him so distraught before in all the time you’d known him. On his knees in front of you begging for another chance and you’d just ran away and left him sobbing on his drive after pouring his heart out to you.

You hated the way he still occupied your thoughts. Before things had gone wrong you believed he was your forever and would have done absolutely anything for him but all that had changed and right now you didn’t think you could ever fully move past this unless you sat with him and spoke to him properly. No matter how much it hurt.

Mason was absentmindedly watching whatever was on tv when his phone alerted him to someone being outside. He didn’t hear a knock or anything moving outside so he quickly opened the app to put his mind at rest when he was met with your face. Your hand rising and falling as you thought about whether or not you should press the bell but Mason wasn’t about to give you a choice and shot up from the sofa to pull the front door open

You weren't expecting him to suddenly be there, a hopeful look on his face as he tried to control his breathing and you felt your heart leap at the sight of him.

‘You’re back’ he whispered, watching you wrap your arms around yourself as you looked down at the floor and all he wanted was to wrap you up in his own arms. To kiss you and promise you he’d never hurt you again as he hated how you looked so fragile and nervous but he was taking you being as a positive sign.

‘Yeah’ you breathed, nodding lightly. ‘I was just about to knock, I um… do you think… do you think I could come in?’

‘Of course you can’ he nodded, pulling the door open wider before shutting it behind you. Watching you glance around the house you used to call a home before you stood playing with your fingers. ‘Can I get you anything? You want a drink or-‘

‘No, I think it’s best we just talk and get this over with’ you told him. walking right by him to get to the sitting room and the familiarity of the place hit you immediately. Nothing had changed, he even still had the same pictures of the pair of you in the frames by the fireplace and you felt your tummy drop at the sight of them. They felt like they were from a different life at this point and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be like that with anyone ever again.

Mason sighed before joining you, his shoulders slumped as he thought maybe you’d come here to listen to him and let him put things right but from just that small awkward interaction he knew you were done. He was just praying to anyone and anything he could change your mind somehow.

‘I’m sorry’ he mumbled as he took a seat opposite you but you weren’t here to listen to that again.

‘I don’t want an apology Mason, you’ve said that a million times now. I want an explanation’ you told him calmly. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing… and everything I guess’ he sighed, running his hand over his beard before scratching the back of his neck. All of his tells to let you know he was nervous. ‘Things were rough for a while, I think we both can agree on that’ he said and you nodded lightly. Things had been hard but never once had you thought about ending things with him. ‘It was just a hard year for me… and then were was Jason’

‘Jason?’ You asked, confused as to who he was talking about as the only Jason you knew was Mason's physio and he’d always been sweet to you when you’d seen him so you were confused as to why he was being bought up now.

‘Yeah, he’d been on at me for months about ending things with you’ he confessed and you felt your heart sink. ‘It's my fault, I saw him most days and we got pretty comfortable around each other so I said some things that looking back now I shouldn’t have. It was just guy talk you know? I didn’t mean anything by it at first, we were just moaning about our other halves but then he broke up with his girlfriend and he was going on about how much lighter felt now he was single and maybe I should do the same so we could be single together’

‘What?’ You breathed. Not knowing if this was a joke or not but you knew Mason and you knew he was open to everyone so it was no wonder he took advice from some he thought he could trust.

‘I know, and I know it doesn't make me sound any better. I get that. But we were arguing over stupid things and I had him in my ear constantly like I just lost it’

You didn’t know what to say. You understood a bit better now but it still didn’t make things easier.

‘But I knew it was dumb, maybe in the back of my mind that’s why I did it when I did cause you’re right. I was a coward and I wanted to run away but I knew It’s not what I wanted as soon as I got on the bloody plane to leave. I didn’t get chance to talk to you or do anything until later that night and I tried to call you but I never heard from you’

‘You didn’t even really give me a chance to fight for us. You told me what you wanted and left as quickly as you could. I didn’t exactly feel like giving you a chance to explain anything after that’ you told him quietly and he nodded knowingly. His face crumpling as he tried and failed to hold it together and you couldn’t lie and say the way he was wasn’t having an effect on you and his watery eyes were like a dagger to your heart.

‘I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never stopped loving you’ he sobbed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye so he could stop crying but it only made your eyes sting in return. ‘That day when I finished things, well I didn’t just hurt you. It's like I tore my own heart from my chest and I’ve never been able to numb that ache. Why do you think I lied and told everyone we were still together?’

‘Cause you’re certifiably insane’ you whispered. Your heart leaping at the way he let out a little chuckle as he wiped his eyes and when your eyes locked you felt your resolve crumble further.

‘Well yes, there’s that, but I couldn’t admit what I’d done to anyone cause I was embarrassed’ he gulped. ‘And I didn’t want to admit it to myself half the time. You’re way too good for me, I know that. Fuck everyone knows that so why would I want to tell everyone I’d thrown away the best thing to have ever happened to me. I know exactly what they’d say and how dumb I felt even just thinking it to myself so I made out you were just busy or something’ he shrugged. His confession melting your cold exterior slightly before he was scratching the back off his neck again. The cogs turning in his brain as he tried to make you believe in whatever way he could.

‘Mums been asking after you loads, I kept saying you were sick or had an appointment. She even sent me those special immunity tea bags to give you like they’re in the cupboard and everything’ he laughed and you felt your heart warm at how kind his family were. You’d missed going to visit them but didn’t want to reach out and have things be weird but now you were glad you hadn’t as clearly they were none the wiser

‘Does she know now?’ You whispered but he just shook his head awkwardly. The bridge of his nose turning a bright red out of embarrassment but your heart was hammering as you always found that to be one of his cutest tells and it was like you had to restrain yourself in your seat so you didn’t reach over to grab his face and kiss him.

‘No, she still thinks we’re together. I'd actually like to keep it that way’ he told you and even though you knew it was coming you weren’t ready to accept what he wanted to say. At least you didn’t think you were.

‘Mason-‘

‘Please’ he pleaded. His big brown eyes melting you even further and even though you promised yourself you’d be strong he was making it difficult. ‘Please, y/n. I said it the other night and I’ll say it again. I really would do anything for another chance and I’ll get down on my knees again if you want me to’ he told you and the tiny smile on your face must have given him the courage to push forward a little bit. Sliding off the sofa before getting himself settled between your thighs and resting his hands on them gingerly. You felt your heart thump as he looked up at you through his lashes and you knew you were putty in his hands at this point no matter how much you didn’t want to be.

‘I’m the biggest idiot known to mankind and I let you go when I should have held you closer. I know I can make you so happy, we were happy once were we?’

‘Yeah, we were’ you agreed quietly cause deep down you knew you really were and you knew I wouldn’t take much to get back there.

‘So we can do it again, right?’

‘I don’t know Mase’

‘Why? What’s holding you back?’ He questioned and at this point you didn’t even know. Only a few seconds away from just agreeing with anything he said as the hopeful look on his face was destroying you but you knew you had more to say.

‘Cause it hurt’ you whispered. ‘I hurt when you left me, it still hurts now’

‘It hurts because it matters’ he whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear and the gesture made you shiver. ‘And it matters because we still love each other. If you didn’t care anymore then it wouldn’t hurt’ he told you and you hated but loved the way he had you on strings. ‘Please baby, please. I can’t be without you anymore it’s killing me’ he told you, his voice wobbling as he looked down into your lap.

You couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to cup his jaw so he’d look at you and the tears rolling down his cheeks broke your heart. You knew he was right, it hurt because you still loved him but looking at him so devastated between your legs hurt more than anything else.

All you wanted to do was make him feel better and you knew there was only one way to do it. Leaning down and pulling him up slightly so you could drop a sweat kiss to his lips and you knew he was surprised as he froze for a beat.

You both sat there for a few moments, foreheads touching with your eyes closed as it hit you what was happening but the smile on his face made you giddy so when he lent back in you let him take the lead. Kissing you gently as he gripped your thighs, almost making sure that you were actually there and he wasn’t dreaming but you were holding onto him just as tightly before pulling back to catch your breath.

‘I didn’t think I’d ever get to kiss you again’ Mason whispered but you couldn’t reply, Mason pulling you down onto the floor next to him before rolling himself half on top of you so he could kiss you again but the pair of you giggling didn’t help. ‘Is this really happening?’

‘Trust me when I say this, but I came over here with the intention of just putting things to bed and going back home’ you told him. Watching his face drop as things turned sombre. ‘But you’ve just made me realise I am home’ you told him, watching him pout slightly as he was so emotional. ‘I’ve been lost without you Masey, and yeah what you did sucked but I know you’re sorry yeah? I can see it all over your face’

‘I really am’

‘I know you are, and it’s okay. I forgive you’ you whispered and it’s like you felt his body relax under your fingertips.

‘Are you sure? I feel like I haven’t said half of what I wanted to’ he gulped, almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d forgiven him so quickly but you didn’t see the point of prolonging everything.

‘That’s okay’ you whispered. ‘You’ve said enough for me, life isn’t always about big apologies you know? I’d rather you make up for things with actions not words’

‘And I will’ he confirmed before leaning down to kiss you again. You tummy flipping at how gentle he was being with you and even before things had turned sour you couldn’t remember the last time you kissed like this. The last time he made you feel like this but you knew the feelings had never died, other stupid things had just gotten in the way.

You pulled back soon after, the pair of you just looking at each other in awe as you shared tiny kisses and soft stares before you felt his hand on your waist. You’d missed his touch and the feel of him made you wonder what else you’d missed in your months apart.

‘You won the fa cup’ you giggled, your eyes burning again as you thought back to the pictures of him looking so happy with his team mates. A nice end to a hard year he’d suffered and even though you’d been mad at him you knew how much it meant for him to win a domestic trophy and you couldn’t not be pleased for him.

‘I did yeah’ he laughed, tears springing to his eyes once more. ‘And we didn’t get to celebrate it together’

‘We’ve got time to, it’ll just be a little late that’s all’ you shrugged and he nodded down at you enthusiastically.

‘We do’ he breathed. Kissing your forehead before cradling your face so he could look at you properly. ‘And you’re going on work trips?’

‘Yeah, a week or two after I went home I got promoted’ you smiled, rolling your eyes lightly as the pair of you knew it was something you’d been working towards but in your mind it was still a little way down the line.

‘I’m so fucking proud of you’ he told you sincerely, pecking your lips quickly before looking at you again and the smile on his face melted you. ‘Looks like we’ve got a fair few things to celebrate then’

‘I think so, and you know how I like to celebrate’

‘Chocolate cake?’ He questioned, an eyebrow raised but he knew he was right. It was always your little tradition and how you celebrated the small wins.

‘Chocolate cake’ you confirmed with a smile and his bright eyes made you melt.

‘I’m gonna get you the best chocolate cake I can find, yeah. Only the best for my girl’ he smiled before his face dropped a fraction. ‘You’re still my girl aren’t you?’

‘I’m still your girl’ you told him, stroking his cheek as he looked at you softly. ‘Even though I was mad as hell I was always your girl Mase. And I always will be’

‘You and me against the world, sweetheart’

‘Of course, but I have a condition’ you told him, watching him raise his brow at you questioningly. ‘If you get upset again, please talk to me so we can work it out’

‘I will baby, I promise’ he told you sincerely and you knew he meant it. ‘I don’t ever want to be without you again, yeah? I fucking hated it’

‘Me too’ you laughed, pulling him down into a soft kiss that you couldn’t help but smile into as you felt him melt. ‘Now what’s happening with that chocolate cake’

‘Come on, we’ll get it together. Not letting you out of my sight now’ he told you, helping you up from the floor so you could make your way to the car, your heart finally home with your forever person.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed if you feel like leaving some feedback it would be much appreciated 🩷

[dallaji]

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 

“Oh, fuck.”

[hanfourz]

— m.jh thought [✷]

🪼- this has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i had to get it out. (also making this into a longer drabble bc whew; so enjoy this little snippet ig)

warnings: suggestive towards the end, kissing

thinking abt college bsf!myungjae who has a massive crush on you. he doesn't even try to hide it, he's literally so obsessed with you. if someone is looking for jaehyun, they look for you first because wherever you are he follows not too far behind. you can't even fully recall how you two became best friends. you remember him coming into the cafe you worked at a lot with his friends, conveniently around the time you would start your shift. he was always really friendly and sweet, making conversation while he waited for his order to be finished. you remember watching him and his goofball friends bicker loudly in the middle of the coffee shop and when you'd accidentally let out a giggle he was the first to look your way. you remember him one day asking you when your shift was over and him telling you to find him in the library once you were done. since that day, you two have been practically inseparable.

finals were coming up and the two of you had decided to become study partners. terrible idea really because he didn't have a serious bone in his body. whenever he came to your dorm to "study", you two always ended up studying for maybe ten minutes max before yall were huddled up on the couch watching tv. you had to resort to studying alone once he'd left. bad decision number two was letting him convince you to come study at his dorm because his roommate would be out and you'd have "peace and quiet" (as if that was a thing around myung jaehyun). when you got there wearing a baggy tshirt and shorts, jaehyun visibly gulped. everyone but you was very aware of his crush on you and it was times like this that made it especially difficult for him. because how was he meant to act somewhat normal when you looked like that. he wasn't sure he wanted you to be aware of how he felt about you, too scared to lose you as a friend entirely.

jaehyun was even more touchy than usual, body pressed right up against yours as you two sat on his bed. touchiness wasn't uncharacteristic for him, he was like that with everyone but today it was much worse. you didn't really understand why he seemed to be attached to your hip today but you can't say you were complaining. you never minded jaehyuns clinginess, it was actually one of the things you came to rly love about him. once your (very short) study sesh was over, he offered to walk with you back to your dorm since it was dark out. you never turned down spending more time with him and you two headed to the elevator. as you walked you had started yapping to him about something going on with some friends from one of your other classes. he wasn't really paying attention though, hyper focused on the way your cut-neck shirt was falling dangerously low on your shoulder.

as soon as you two were in the elevator, jaehyun was extremely close to you again. when you looked up at him, you were shocked to see the way he was looking at you. and when his hands found the curve of your hips and he was asking to please kiss you, the puzzle pieces started to click in your head. truth is, you'd always found him devastatingly attractive but refused to entertain those thoughts, trying not to catch feelings for someone who was just supposed to be a friend. but you'd be stupid to deny him right now and you'd be a liar if you said you hadn't wanted to kiss him since that first day you saw him in that cafe. so you gave in, you let him kiss you breathless on that elevator and you invited him into your dorm when you realized that your roommate was out. you let him indulge in every lewd fantasy he'd had of you right on your very bed.

[caladblog]

A BASIC GUIDE TO VICTORIAN CLOTHING, FOR FANDOMS

wherein VICTORIAN CLOTHING is understood to mean "common clothing from the 1830s to the end of the century, in fashion as set by London and followed to a greater or lesser extent in the rest of the British empire"

This is very much meant as a starting point or a cheat sheet, not a comprehensive historical essay, for people who want to know what the Fuck is happening under that morning coat and/or dress the size of a kitchen table. I've also included a little bit on likely materials and colors so you can add some texture to your fics.

Here's the rule of thumb: Victorians loved LAYERS, BUTTONS, and DECORATIVE SHIT. When in doubt, slap several layers of clothing on your guy, button 'em all together, and flourish the hell out of the top layer. Congrats, you have dressed a Victorian.

Read on for details! And check my reblogs for a note on trans characters. A Part 2 on Mending/Laundry is in the works, because it had a much bigger impact on Victorian dress at all levels of society than it does on modern fashion and I think it's worth talking about.

UNDERWEAR FOR MEN:

a warm and comfortable and easily washable undershirt (typically called a vest) with sleeves that went down to the wrist

drawers, also warm and comfortable and easily washable and covering the whole legs, fastened with buttons or ties at the waist and ankles

pair of socks

If you cover your whole body in this base layer made of undyed, unfashionable, who-cares-if-it's-stained fabric, the sweat and dirt of your body stays on this easily-washable layer and spares the outer layers of clothing that would be damaged by hot water and soaps, or at least that was the philosophy.

The most common fabric for this underwear was flannel, as it was cheap and fairly soft. Bands of cotton could be stitched to the inside of the wrists, ankles, waists, and collar if you found the wool itchy. Socks were almost always knitted wool, holes or thin spots mended with darning whether you were poor or rich.

UNDERWEAR FOR WOMEN:

the chemise / shift: a simple, short-sleeved cotton tube that fell to the mid-thigh

other underwear requires a bit of a history lesson, sorry. At the beginning of the century, you wore like 85 petticoats and no bloomers. Then crinolines--a sort of metal cage skirt that held your dress away from your body to obtain the fashionable wide silhouette--were invented in the 1850s. It was great, because they replaced 30lbs of underskirts, but also inconvenient, in that hoops of steel are inherently bouncy. To preserve modesty (and also warmth) women began wearing bloomers, open in the middle and buttoning at the waist and either at or below the knee. These were also made of plain cotton and only occasionally decorated with a bit of lace-- for all your underthings, male or female, you wanted to be able to 1) make a bunch of sets quickly and cheaply so you could change every day without needing to launder as often and 2) use cloth that could be laundered easily.

stockings were longer and more decorative than men's socks, made of wool, cotton, or silk. White was popular at the beginning of the century, but bright colors and patterns became fashionable in the middle, and conservative black stockings dominated the end of the era. Wool fabrics were the most common, warmest, and cheapest; silk stockings were for very wealthy and fashionable women as they required the most care. Near the end of the century stockings were suspended from the corset, but up til that point stockings were held up by garters tied above the knee.

MIDDLE LAYERS FOR MEN:

shirts, with much longer tails than the button-up shirts we're used to, with a buttoned slit that only went about halfway down the chest rather than all the way down the front of the garment. Lots of volume in the sleeve around the armpit, buttoned up at the cuff. At the beginning of the period, rich men's shirts were checked or patterned while working men's shirts were white(ish), but this swapped over the course of the century as colored fabric became cheaper. (It hides stains better.) The gentleman's shirt from midcentury onward was a crisp, bright white.

As a middle layer, parts of it (like the cuffs and front) could be seen in public, but you absolutely could not go out without a waistcoat and jacket. You only removed your jacket and showed your shirtsleeves at the end of the day, amongst your family.

Trousers were held up by braces / suspenders that went over the shoulders, not belts that fastened around the waist, and you did NOT let them show. They were meant to be covered entirely by waistcoats.

MIDDLE LAYERS FOR WOMEN:

As a very carefully tailored and shaped garment that couldn't really be washed, corsets went over the shift. All women wore them, even laborers, even prisoners and people in workhouses as part of their (institution-provided and deliberately demeaning) uniform. They were viewed as necessary armor to support your weak internal organs, and the physically upright posture they created went hand in hand with moral uprightness in the Victorian mind. They could lace up in the front or back, and the boning could be made of steel (cheap and sturdy) or whalebone (springier and therefore a bit more comfortable) or wood (if you are truly broke AF) or even just stiff cord (mostly for young girls, in which they were called stays).

camisoles (also called vests or corset covers) were tailored shirts worn over the corset, and could be either extremely decorative with embroidery and lace or plainer and made for warmth.

then you've got the crinoline, tied at the waist, a skirt made of steel hoops as already described.

then a couple of petticoats, decorated at the hem for fashion, layered for warmth and to hide the crinoline's hoops.

OUTERWEAR FOR MEN:

trousers, made of cotton or wool. The big differences between Victorian trousers and today's are 1) zippers hadn't been invented yet, the flies were buttoned and 2) the modern waist sits around the hipbones, while the Victorian waist was at the bottom of the ribcage.

jackets, made of thick heavily felted wool that was decently wind- and rain-proof. Darker colors in jackets and trousers lasted longer, so light-colored cloth was mostly worn by the young and rich (or those who wanted to look rich) and flashy.

waistcoats were where the fashion REALLY was. As the back was always made of plain cotton not meant to be seen, even poor men could often afford the cost of the fabric needed to make a neat waistcoat. The front could be made of embroidered silk for luxury, wool for added warmth, or printed cotton making full use of the brilliantly-colored (and relatively cheap) dyes that had just been invented. It's a little bit like people today wearing simple suits and shirts paired with wild socks.

OUTERWEAR FOR WOMEN:

and here you finally get to the f*cking dress. I couldn't possibly go into all the variations on dresses in this era, but I can say that bright colors and patterns were common for women of all classes (but were also part of the ever-present anxiety about people acting "above their station", if a maid dressed too fashionably). The design of the sleeves and the decoration of the hems changed regularly with fashion, as did the precise shape of the feminine silhouette, but the bodice was always tight and the skirts were always full. The average woman would spend more money on flourishes--ribbons, lace, other trimmings--than the dress itself, largely because the average level of skill in sewing was so high that they mostly bought the fabric for the dress and cut & sewed it themselves.

ACCESSORIES FOR MEN:

the collar was not an integral part of the shirt! It was detachable and had to be washed, starched, and ironed separately. Laborers didn't wear them, just a loosely-tied cloth around their neck, but a stand-up collar was necessary for anyone working in a business setting whether you're rich or making really terrible clerk's wages. Turned-down collars like the ones on most of our shirts today were informal and for wealthy men at leisure.

a stock or necktie, ideally black silk. Modern neckties weren't around yet, but the century moved slowly towards that and away from cravats.

gloves. Especially when status was a concern, so, men outside the home not engaged in business and servants waiting on their masters. These were tight-fitting, pale in color, and damn near impossible to launder and mend.

ACCESSORIES FOR WOMEN:

a shawl, often. Your lower half would be covered in stockings and plentiful skirts, while your upper half would only have a few layers that were usually made of cotton, so freezing your tits off was unfortunately common.

gloves. Like men's gloves, these were also status symbols worn when visiting your acquaintances or waiting on your masters. The vast vast majority of servants were women, and the rough labor of washing and cleaning fell to them, so these gloves also covered the evidence of that rough work.

HATS/BONNETS:

Everybody wore a hat when out in public. It's just what you did. The type of hat varied based on fashion, occupation, and social standing, but you had SOME kind of thing on your head when you left the house.

SOME SPECIFIC CLOTHES:

Fishermen wore knitted jumpers instead of jackets. Laborers out in the country (muddy when it rained, dusty when it didn't) wore gaiters, which were basically just rectangles or tubes of cheap-ass sacking that tied around the ankle and below the knee to keep the mud / dust off their trousers. Surgeons and people who worked a lot with ink (clerks, stationers) had sleeves, which were tubes of canvas that tied around the wrist and elbow to protect their shirtsleeves. The advantage of sleeves and gaiters is that you can remove them, toss them in a bucket of water, and beat the shit out of them to wash them without worrying about rips or tears OR getting the stains (mud, ink, blood, etc) onto your other clothes.

Maids and other laborers didn't wear crinolines, but they did wear a corset and a couple of petticoats under their dress.

More prosperous laborers might still own a collar / crinoline, but only wear it to church on Sundays or other occasions that called for nice dress.

When at home and not working or entertaining visitors, both men and women would wear slippers that could be super fancy or very simple or your kid's first sewing project, etc etc. Depends on your preference.

Men would sleep in long, loose nightshirts and women would sleep in long, loose nightdresses. Practically speaking there wasn't much difference between these garments; both might be decorated a bit with embroidery or lace. Rich people would have finer fabrics, fashionable people would have more decoration, poor people might just sleep in whatever combination of day clothes is the most comfortable. Fairly straightforward.

TO RECAP

MEN: vest + drawers + socks > shirt > trousers + braces + collar > waistcoat + stock or necktie > jacket + shoes or boots > hat

WOMEN: shift + bloomers (optional) + stockings > corset > camisole > crinoline > petticoats (minimum 2) > dress > shawl > shoes + bonnet

===

SOURCES

How to Be a Victorian, by Ruth Goodman

Inside the Victorian Home, by Judith Flanders

Episode 342 of Antiques Freaks, Historical Costuming for The Terror (2018)-- the first ~8 minutes talk about men's clothes in general, then they go into naval uniforms until minute 15ish.

[linopls]

birthday boys

jisung x fem!reader x felix, college!au

summary: to celebrate your boyfriend and roommates birthday, you all play a fun drinking game which reveals something about your boyfriend. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, alcohol, threesome, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it pls), voyeurism/exhibitism, cuckolding (kinda?), oral (male receiving 2x), a little degradation, a lot of praising 2.9k words (i got a little carried away.)

you started dating jisung about a year ago, you met in your anatomy class freshman year of college. while jisung needed it for his major, you were taking it as one of your science electives which meant you had no idea what you were doing. while paired together for a lab, jisung saw your struggles and offered to help you study. once the semester ended, you and jisung continued to hang out and started dating.

jisung met felix shortly after you, the two became inseparable very quickly. after freshman year, felix decided he no longer wanted to dorm on campus and found an apartment and asked if you and jisung would like to take the second bedroom. 

you never had any complaints about rooming with jisung and felix. they were the nicest roommates you could ever ask for. they always did their laundry, never left dirty dishes in the sink, and always kept the fridge stocked with plenty of food. 

however you have found one issue about being friends with them, their birthdays followed each other. this meant that one week every year you would spend a fortune making sure to spoil your amazing and kind friends.

remembering an article you read, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, this year you decided to recruit the help of jisung’s freshman roommate, minho, in preparing them the most amazing home cooked meal they could imagine. buying the most expensive ribs you could find, splurging on an expensive custom cake that was half each of their favorite flavors, and spending more on alcohol than you do your utilities. 

you also invited some of their other friends, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin, but they know nothing about cooking and they brought board games and more alcohol for the nine of you to enjoy.

“its 6:15, where are they?” you wonder aloud.

“when have any of them ever been on time,” minho says, taking his apron off and setting it on the island.

you check your phone again for any missed texts from any of the boys and check the clock again to make sure your phone clock isn’t wrong.

“they’re nursing students doing clinicals, they will never be off on time,” minho says, pulling up one of the island chairs to sit in.

you sigh and set your head on his shoulder. “i should know that.”

“you should,” minho says, patting your back softly. “but me and you will never understand the life of not clocking out exactly at-”

the sound of the door opening interrupts minho’s thoughts and the familiar sound of jisung and felix’s laugh relaxes yours. jisung, felix, chan, and jeongin come in through the front door.

“something smells amazing!” felix says trying to catch a glimpse of the feast behind you and minho.

“you don’t get to eat until you open all your gifts!” you exclaim running to grab their presents from the living room.

with everyone’s gifts in their hands, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin follow behind you. the present piles are dropped in front of the two boys and they  rip through their gifts, skim the cards, and say their thank you's before grabbing plates and filling them like they hadn’t been fed in years.

after the feast, the crowd gathers in the living room with their bottles and glasses of alcohol. while you try to sit down after doing a little head count, you notice jisung is missing. that’s when you hear a small whisper:

“y/n, y/n!” jisung calls from down the hall. “come here.”

you set down your wine glass on the coffee table, before saying a quick ‘i’ll be back’ to the boys.

before you can even ask what jisung wants, he pulls you into a warm hug and a deep kiss. his arms wrap around your lower back and his soft lips push against yours. one of your favorite quirks about jisung is that you can always feel is slight smile whenever he kisses you. you’ve never told him, he would probably die of embarrassment. 

you pull away first and set your forehead against his, “happy birthday, baby.”

“you are literally the best girlfriend i could ever ask for, do you know that?” 

“i’ve been told a couple times,” you giggle. “come on, let's go celebrate with all your friends!”

“can we celebrate, the two of us, later maybe?” jisung asks, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing your hands.

“of course,” you blush. “i have a special surprise for you later.”

-

after watching half a movie, the group decides to play one of the board games that was brought. 

“i found this game wandering through target and thought it would be fun,” seungmin says, pulling out a card game labeled ‘truth or drink’.

after explaining the rules and everyone refilling their drinks, we begin. a couple rounds go through, people are spilling their biggest secrets or slowly working their drinks to be empty again.

“y/n, its your turn,” hyunjin reminds you.

you pull a card and read it aloud. “if you had a threesome with three people in the room, who would it be and why?”

the room is silent for a second as you think if you want to answer it or drink. jisung interrupts the silence by adjusting the way he is sitting and clearing his throat. 

“what will be be, y/nnie?” minho asks, trying to hold back laughter.

“well i think i have to pick jisung as one.” 

“you’d HAVE to?” jisung gasps, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.

“oh zip it,” you snap. “and i guess, felix? it would be easiest to arrange our schedules that way.”

felix’s eyes go wide and cheeks flush red.

“you think too logically,” jeongin laughs before drawing a card for his turn.

the rest of the night finishes without any issues, except changbin spilling his drink once. the rest of the boys uber or walk home around 3AM and you, jisung, and felix head into your bedrooms for a good night’s rest.

before you can even shut your door, jisung is kissing at your neck like a ravished vampire. you melt into his touch and turn to face him. he pushes his body against yours and gently snakes his hand behind your head before pushing you back into the door. you slide your hands underneath his shirt and he separates your kiss only to discard it and throw it to the floor. 

with jisung’s open chest on display, you start to kiss down his jawline and onto his collarbone leaving small marks along the way. jisung gasps softly at everytime you bite down on his soft skin.

“baby,” he says between small moans. “i have a question.”

“mhm,” you reply, still working on leaving marks on his chest.

“that threesome question.” he says and you stop and look up at him. his eyes shiny and filled with lust and his face flushed pink. “i know we never talked about it before, but would you want to?” he asks shyly.

you fully stand and cup your hands around his round cheek and think. “i’ve never thought about it before,” you say, pressing a kiss to his nose. “maybe, yeah sure, why not? it sounds intriguing .”

jisung makes a noise you could only describe as a small whimper. “would you want to…” he trails off.

“what baby? talk to me.”

“would you want to right now? like with felix? like you said?”

you’re stunned and jisung realizes. “i’m sorry for saying anything, we don’t have to, it was just an idea. we can go back-”

“yeah get him in here.”

“what?”

it’s not like you never noticed how attractive felix was. when he stretches his arms above his head and you catch a glimpse at his abs. when he’s concentrated on his games and his tongue peaks out between his beautiful and plush lips. when you talk to him early in the mornings and his voice is raspy and deeper than usual.

“what do you want to do with him?”

“y/n, are you serious?” jisung asks, snapping out of whatever whimpering-lust-haze he was in.

“yes, i am serious, jisung. what do you want to do with him?”

“i don’t want to do anything with him.”

“what do-”

“i want to watch.”

heat rushes to your core, butterflies fill your stomach, and you might have started to drool. the idea of being watched while having sex wasn’t something you ever thought you’d enjoy. but something about your boyfriend wanting to watch you have sex with another man, in front of him, felt so bad that it felt right. 

after kissing you one last time, jisung leaves the room. you start to panic and wonder if this was a bad idea. you turn to look in your vanity mirror and remember your special surprise you had for jisung and think about how it can be used for the two boys.

felix and jisung come into the room and you can feel the atmosphere become more tense.

jisung speaks first. “i explained it to him, he’s okay with it. we’ve already agreed if anyone is uncomfortable at any point, we stop and this never happened.”

“okay.” is all your able to say, you can feel your body being filled with nerves.

“y/n?” felix says. his voice is soothing, and knowing what is about to happen between you both makes him saying your name almost, sexy. 

“i’m ready.” you say.

jisung walks over to you first and begins to kiss you with a level of passion you never knew he had. he kisses up your jawline and whispers into your ear. “i love you baby.”

this gives you the confidence you did not know you had, or maybe its the alcohol. “both of you sit on the bed, please.” you ask softly. they both comply, looking at each other with excitement in their eyes. 

you very slowly, and very seductively, slide your pants down your legs. you look up to jisung for approval and he just smiles like a child about to indulge in his favorite candy. you then look over at felix who has his tongue poking through his luscious lips, staring at your legs.

your surprise is still hidden, until you slide your (jisung’s) oversized shirt off and over your head. jisung’s eyes widen and felix covers his crotch with his hands. you had never worn lingerie in your life, but decided to treat jisung, and now felix, for their birthdays. you picked out jisung’s favorite color, red, and made sure to get something that would accentuate your curves. 

“jesus baby,” jisung sighs. “you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“thank you. but tonights not about me, it's about you two.” 

you walk over to felix and place a hand on his cheek. “can i kiss you?” you ask, leaning down to be eye level with him. 

he nods and you kiss those soft plush lips you’ve wanted to kiss for months. you hear jisung moan slightly in the background, watching you makeout with his best friend in front of him is like porn he could never imagine. felix hesitantly kisses you back.

his lips are soft, softer than they look. after kissing him for a minute you can feel him gain more confidence in this whole scene but he doesn’t move his hands. you pull away slowly and look him in his eyes. they have the same shiny and lust filled look that jisung’s get, which reassures you slightly. 

“can i sit on your lap?” you ask.

felix nods quickly and moves his hands from covering his crotch to being placed softly on your hips. when you fully sit down, you feel the bulge in his pants pressed up against your clothed core. the sensation of straddling another man while your boyfriend watches sends a shiver down your spine. 

as you begin to kiss felix again, you feel the weight of the mattress shift and jisung’s body behind yours. he starts to kiss at your shoulder and up your neck. this causes you to moan loudly. jisung laughs slightly before his presences disappears from behind you and you hear your vanity chair being moved. you can only assume that jisung has moved it and sat in it to watch the show going on in his bed.

you start to kiss felix more passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth and sliding your hands up and down his chest. you bite down on his bottom lip, releasing a low groan from him, before pulling away and start to pull his shirt off his body. you must stare at his abs a little too long before he grabs your chin and pulls you back into a kiss. 

you gently push felix back onto the bed, and start to kiss down his chest and stomach, leaving red marks and bruises on his perfectly soft skin. you hear his breath hitch in his throat as you make it to the waistband of his pajama pants. you stop kissing his skin to look up at him. 

“can i?” you ask.

“please, y/n.” he groans while lifting his hips to help you remove his pants.

you’re mouth waters at the sight of felix’s cock springing free from the confines of his pants. felix sighs of relief as slowly wrap one of your hands around the base. you slowly lick a stripe following the pulsing vein on the bottom of his cock to the head and pull off. you look up to see he’s propped himself up on his elbows and eyes are closed in pleasure. you take another long lick and stop at his red and angry tip, you place a kiss on the tip and start to go back down to the base.

before you can reach the base, felix slides his hand into your hair and pulls your head back to the top of his cock. “please don’t tease, y/n.” 

you smile and readjust your position to take his cock down your throat. you take every inch painfully slow, you hear felix’s breathing start to get heavier and hear movement from jisung behind you. you feel tears swelling up in your eyes as you start to fully take him in your mouth and you have to stop and pull off before you reach the base.

felix moves his hand from your hair and wipes the spit off your mouth. “it’s okay baby, i know i’m a little bigger than sungie,” he laughs.

“shut up or your out!” jisung says throwing your shirt (you think) at felix.

“my fault, my fault.” felix looks down at you again. “are you okay, love? do you want to do something else?”

you could cum on the spot. the way he’s so kind and gentle while doing something so extremely erotic sends new feelings to your core. 

“i’m okay, you can be a little rougher if you want,” you say, placing your mouth back on the tip of his cock.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly gathering your hair into a ponytail with his hand.

“mhm,” you say, mouth full of his cock. 

felix slowly pushes you down on his cock, stopping when he feels your throat close and pulling back out again. he does the same thing a little quicker before asking again if you're ready. when you give him the go ahead, he starts again, slowly but accelerates his pace quickly. as he begins to fuck your face, you can feel your mind start to go blank. you move your hands to rest on his hips and out of the corner of your eye you can see jisung move to sit next to him.

jisung’s shirt is off and he’s palming himself through his pants with his left hand and with his right he moves a strand of hair that fell out of felix’s makeshift ponytail behind your ear.

“look at our pretty little slut letting you use her mouth like that,” jisung says as he starts to undo his belt. the comment makes both you and felix moan and felix starts to fuck your mouth even faster.

tears are streaming down your face and you're digging your nails so hard into felix’s thighs you might draw blood. you look over at your boyfriend to see his slowly jerking himself off to the erotic sight of his girlfriend being face-fucked by his best friend. 

felix’s thrust slowly start to become more erratic and you can tell he’s about to finish soon. you start to moan and hum around his cock to bring him to the feeling quicker. 

“i’m g-gonna cum, where? where?” felix groans.

“in her mouth, she’ll swallow it all,” jisung says matter-of-factly and he begins to fuck into his hand faster.

“jesus christ, fuck,” felix moans loudly as his hips sputter out of control. “i’m cumming.” felix thrusts one more time, deep and hard, down your throat before finishing with a guttural groan.

“don’t swallow,” jisung commands as felix slowly pulls his softening cock out of your mouth. jisung slowly stands up and pulls your head to be face to face with his cock.

“open,” he says, grabbing your mouth. the sight of felix’s cum sitting on your tongue is enough to make jisung finish all over your tongue. “now swallow.”

you swallow their mixed seed with a moan and without jisung having to ask, you open your mouth to show them both. felix groans and lets himself fall back onto the bed and jisung cups your face in his hands.

“good girl.” he smiles. “will you let felix and me take care of you now?"

got highkey carried away so if you want a pt 2 lmk!!

UPDATE PT 2 IS HERE

[fictionalwh0ree]

May i please request Billie x super girly/soft reader? They were friends for years and recently started dating and everyone has always questioned their relationship since they're polar opposites? Tysm!

pink bows- billie eilish

summary: you and billie are completely different, but thats what makes you great. unfortunately, not everyone sees it that way. when some of the hate gets too much, billie knows how to comfort you. word count: 1.4k warnings: none

billie eilish was indubitably the most gorgeous girl you’d ever seen. with the perfect balance of masculine and feminine energy, the perfect balance of cocky and humble, it was hard not to fall for her. you’d known since the moment the two of you became friends that you liked her in a more than just friends way. nothing had happened between the two of you until a couple months back, and when she publicly came out, she also revealed your relationship to the world.

people had known about your friendship, her posting you frequently on her story. people always replied, saying you guys were goals, your contrast being perfect. see, while billie opted for baggy clothes and a hat, you always leaned towards a tank top and a mini skirt, or a nice dress. you always stood out by her side, especially when you wore pink, which was usually. whether it was a pink purse or some detailing on your clothes, you always had it on. you loved the support you got from her fans. they were a light amongst all the hate you received as well.

so, when billie posted a photo of you two kissing, and then when she took you to the grammy’s as her date, you expected more support than what you’d got. besides the blatant homophobia, your dissimilarity had gone from something that made you “goals” to something that got in the way of dating. you received many messages saying things like “what do they even have to talk abt?” or “they literally have nothing in common, this has to be pr.”

you focused your energy on ignoring the comments, taking moments to appreciate the supportive fans who seemed overjoyed with the announcement. when the hate seemed to slow down, billie posted you again. this time, the two of you were matching, both of you in pink tshirts. billie’s shirt was baggy and paired well with her jeans, while yours was a tighter fitting tank paired with a jean skirt. despite all the positivity, new hate comments were coming in. people accused you of trying to turn her into you, saying you were taking away from her style. this was only on one end of the scale, your dms had become flooded with death threats too.

it started to become a lot. you started to pull away from billie a little, taking a little longer to answer her messages, making excuses to not see her, avoiding being in any photos she took. you couldn’t avoid her forever, though. billie wasn’t stupid. being new to the relationship meant you were both afraid to have serious discussions, worried about how it would turn out. on your side, you were scared that billie would think you were stupid or weak for letting the haters get to you. on her side, she was scared to ask what was wrong, worried that you’d either fallen out of love with her or that she’d push you too far.

the last straw was when you finally made plans with her to go get food. she stopped in your driveway, knowing you were probably strapping your heels or running back for your keys that were adorned with a pink bow, and pulled out her phone. she didn’t even realize when you’d walked out of the house until you pulled open the car door. she looked up at you, smiling, until she took in your outfit. you were in simple jeans with a black long sleeve, basic shoes, your hair down, and no makeup. there wasn’t a hint of pink, or girliness, in your outfit. her smile faltered and she tilted her head to the side in confusion. you planted a kiss on her lips in greeting.

“hey,” you said.

“hi,” she said back, uncertainty still evident.

“whats wrong?” you asked, knowing full well what was up.

she started the car, beginning the drive before she spoke again.

“uhm, nothing,” she said, “its just… i’ve never seen you in an outfit like this.”

“do you not like it?” you asked, worried, “i-i just wasn’t feeling the pink.”

“no no, you look great baby,” billie objected, “but, you weren’t feeling the pink? i never thought i’d hear that from you.”

“does it matter?” you snapped, “we’re just going to get food. sorry i don’t wanna put on a dress and heels.”

you crossed your arms, looking out the window. you heard billie sigh and if you would’ve been looking, you would’ve seen the way she bit her lip in thought and glanced over at you, plotting her next words.

“y/n whats been up with you recently?” billie asked nervously.

“what do you mean?” you said.

“well, i don’t know, you just haven’t been yourself recently,” she took a breath, considering whether or not she’d say what had been on her mind.

“do you- do you not like me anymore or something?” she said, eyes flicking between you and the road.

“no, no, billie, thats not it. i promise,” you said, turning to face her while grabbing her hand off the console.

“okay,” she said, smiling a little out of relief, “then what is it? and don’t say nothing.”

“honestly,” you breathed out, “i was just trying to fit in with you more.”

“fit in with me more?” she asked, confused.

“i don’t know, it feels kind of stupid to say,” you confessed honestly.

“it’s not stupid, baby, i promise. just tell me,” she comforted, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“well, ever since we went public, i’ve been getting all these comments and dms about how i’m taking away from your style when we match, and how we don’t match, and how we look like a pr stunt because i dress in pink and girly and you don’t,” you said, looking down.

“i guess i just got tired of it. i want people to see us and know we’re together, for real,” you muttered.

“y/n,” billie said, squeezing your hand, “how could you call that stupid?”

“i just shouldn’t have let the hate get to me,” you said.

“its not your fault,” she said, finally arriving at the restaurant drive through.

you sat still for a moment as she ordered the food and picked it up. she parked in the parking lot, finally looking over to you for more than a second.

“y/n, i like your style. i don’t want you to change, for me or for anyone else. part of what makes us work is that we’re different. i know its annoying having people think it isn’t real, but we know the truth, that’s what matters,” she said, taking your hand in hers and placing a kiss on the back again.

you looked at her, biting your lip shyly. you smiled slightly, trying to fight it a little, but it was hard. your cheeks were burning as you looked at her.

“there’s that pretty smile,” she cooed, smiling back at you.

“i love you,” you said.

“i love you more,” she replied, leaning over the console to kiss you on the lips.

she snagged your house keys from the cup holders in the middle, untying the pink ribbon that adorned it.

“give me your hand,” she spoke.

you offered it to her and she gently picked up your left hand, carefully tying a bow on your ring finger, making you blush harder. you quickly rooted through your own bag, finding and untying the pink bow that was on your car keys.

“give me yours,” you said.

she gave it to you, and you tied the ribbon on her ring finger, just as she had done to you, before leaning over to kiss her lips briefly. you pulled away, holding her hand and admiring the two pink bows, knowing one day those bows would become rings.

“lets go,” you said.

she pulled out of the parking lot and as she drove, you snagged a picture of your hands, one that was sure to become a wallpaper, a constant reminder of your love and how it transcends what anyone thinks.

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (6)

Part Six

warnings: 18+ MDNI!, no smut, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, angst, lots of dialogue (forgive me if I missed any)

a/n: Don’t hate Khloé too much.

Masterlist

Khloé looked up at the large clock that hung above her sofa. Terry was running 20 minutes late which meant they’d be running late for her mother’s party. He knew how Khloé felt about being late to things, especially family gatherings. Although this was only his first time being late, she’d make sure he wasn’t late again.

“I’m sorry, Summer needed help with her car. It took longer than expected.” He said walking into her home. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

Khloé exhaled, letting all of the breath out of lungs, attempting to keep control of her anger. 

“I know you will.” Khloé responded, not bothering to look up at him. “I’m ready to go, the car is downstairs.”

Khloé was really trying to suppress her jealousy but the more she heard Summers name, the more she became annoyed with her and she didn’t even know her. She could tell in the small amount of time she had known Terry, how selfless he was, especially for those he cared for most. But her constant need for all of his attention was getting the best of her. 

The ride to her parents house was dead silent. Terry couldn’t help but sense the attitude she had with him. Ever since the night she opened up about her personal dreams, she had become more talkative with him. Sharing her opinions and views on things that interests her most. 

But she was silent for the entire ride. Terry didn’t know what to think. Usually her attitudes would follow up a threat, that way he’d know what he was in for later in the evening. It would also be a sign that she didn’t plan on staying mad at him for too long. But she just sat quietly, staring out of the window until they arrived at her parents home. 

Terry parked the car and looked over at her as she grabbed her purse from the passenger floor. She searched through her small Chanel tote, looking for her signature lipstick to apply another layer before entering the house.

“You didn’t say anything the whole ride. Are you that mad at me for being late?” Terry asked, eyebrows raised. 

“No.”

“Then why were you so quiet the whole ride?” 

“I’m just thinking about how I want to deal with you later on that’s all. But I’m not upset with you.” She said, putting emphasis on you. “Let’s go.” Khloé sat back, waiting for Terry to get out and open her door. 

He made his way to her side and helped her out as he always did. She grabbed his hand and they held onto each other as they entered the large home, falling into the routine they’d practiced too many times. 

They stepped into the large foyer, immediately being greeted with the delicious smell of food and soft music playing. 

“There she is!” A woman exclaimed, holding out her arms as she approached Khloé and Terry. 

“Kandace!” Khloé yelled, letting go of Terry's hand and embracing her big sister. They rocked back and forth expressing how much they missed each other and couldn’t wait to catch up. 

“Wait a second, who is this?” Kandace asked, staring up at Terry with a raised brow. 

“Kandace, this is my boyfriend Terry. Terry, this is my big sister/second mom Kandace.” Khloé said, keeping her eyes on her sister as she approached Terry. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you Kandace.” Terry greeted, with a warm smile, holding his hand out. 

“I’m a hugger.” Kandace said, pulling him into a snug embrace. “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

She released Terry and turned to her sister. “Dad told me you brought someone to the family banquet but I didn’t think you actually had taste.” 

“Shut up Kandace!” Khloé playfully slapped her sister's arm, rolling her eyes. The interaction between the two sisters caused Terry to crack a smile.

The three of them engaged in conversation, totally forgetting who they were there celebrating. Kandace talked about the time she spent overseas living in Japan with her husband. Terry was genuinely intrigued, amazed at her love for the culture and the people. 

Khloé stared at her older sister, pure admiration in her eyes. Kandace was everything Khloé wished she could be. They both were bold in the way they presented themselves and fearless in demanding what they wanted but Kandace always made it her mission to live her life the way she saw fit. Something Khloé was obviously still having a hard time doing. 

Terry noticed this, the way Khloés eyes sparkled as she listened to her older sister tell stories about her time spent in the foreign country. He could tell they were close, the way they clung to each other, sharing inside jokes and exchanging compliments. 

“Well are you here to see Kandace, are you here to celebrate your mother?” Khloé heard the deep tone from behind her. Heels clicked the floor slowly as she turned to meet her mothers gaze. 

“Happy Birthday mom!” Khloé smiled, walking into her mothers arms. 

“Thank you dear.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled. Her smile slowly turned into shock as her eyes landed on Terry. “Terrance, it’s so good to see you again!” 

Mrs. MacArthur instantly released her daughter and practically ran over to Terry. It caught him by surprise when she hugged him, squeezing him tight. Not wanting to be rude, he hugged her back, a pair of puzzled eyes on Khloé as she stared blankly at them. 

“It’s good to see you as well ma’am.” 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, walking over to his youngest daughter, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Hi daddy.” Khloé smiled, hugging her father. 

“Terrance, good to see you son.” Mr. MacArthur said, shaking his hand firmly. 

“It’s good seeing you as well sir.” 

“Well I hate to break up this reunion but dinner is ready. If everyone could make their way into the formal dining room that'd be great.” Mr. MacArthur said to the room full of family and friends. 

Terry couldn’t help but notice Khloé stuck in a daze as her eyes locked onto the floor where her mother was standing. He immediately made his way over to her, stepping around her mother. 

“What’s wrong?” Terry asked, looking down at her. 

Khloé quickly shook her head and cleared her throat. 

“Nothing, I was just thinking about the good food we’re about to eat.” She answered with a fake smile on her face. Terry stayed put for a few more seconds. He knew she was lying but he wasn’t one to push her beyond her limits so he nodded and held his hand out for her to take. 

The guests made their way into the formal dining room to see a long table covered in dishes from end to end. Mr. MacArthur sat at the head of the large table while his wife sat on the opposite end. Everyone took their seats and prepared their plates as small conversations filled the room. 

Khloé took a seat right next to her sister Kandace who sat next to their dad. Terry was right beside her. They fell back into their conversation from earlier never missing a beat. Mr. MacArthur joined in sharing his experiences from traveling abroad and the many cultures he learned about as well. 

*Clink Clink Clink* 

The sound of a silver spoon tapping against a champagne glass caused everyone’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. Mrs. MacArthur stood at the end of the table as she made sure she had everyone’s undivided attention. 

“I just want to thank everyone for coming to help me celebrate my 60th birthday. Although I don’t look my age.” She joked, receiving small chuckles from the guests at the table. “To be surrounded by friends and family and my husband who I love, this has really made my night. If only my pride and joy were here to help me celebrate.” 

She was referring to her son, also known as the “Golden Child”, Kameron. Khloés older brother, the one who could do no wrong in her mothers eyes even when all he did were the wrong things. Kameron was a free spirited person who came and went as the wind blew. 

Khloé expected him to show for their mothers birthday but then again if he had something more important to do that always came before family. Even if the important thing was laying up under his ex-stripper turned fiancé who he met on tour as a DJ. Khloé was here every second her mother needed her while her siblings were nowhere to be found unless they wanted to be found. Even still she went unnoticed. 

“Thank you all for coming and I hope you enjoy the amazing food Lucille has cooked for us. Let’s dig in!” With that everyone turned to their plates. Before anyone could return to their conversations Mrs. MacArthur decided to get Terry’s attention. 

“So Terrance, what exactly is it about my daughter that piqued your interests?” Mrs. MacArthur asked, placing her fork that held her Caesar Salad into her mouth. 

Everyone’s attention turned to Terry awaiting his response.  

“Well uh, it’s her passion, her fearlessness, her determination. She’s very proud to be herself, she doesn’t let anyone stop her from being all that she is.” He responded, looking over at Khloé. “I admire that about her.” 

Khloé smiled softly at him as she took a sip of her drink. Everyone nodded, pleased with his answer, silently whispering their compliments for him to each other. 

“She gets it from me.” Mrs. MacArthur started, “I’ve always expressed to her the importance of presence.  You have to let everyone in the room know that you’re there, if not they’ll look right over you.

“But I have to say I'm quite surprised to see you at another family gathering, I was sure she’d run you off with her inability to keep someone around.” Mrs. MacArthur spat, not bothering to meet her daughter's eyes. 

“Angela.” Mr. MacArthur gave his wife a look, warning her to stop while she was ahead. 

“I’m just being honest dear. She’s in her 30s with no husband, no children, no real home. I was beginning to think she’d be one of those women who owns animals to take the place for the lack of human interaction in her life.” She joked, laughing to herself. 

A few guests laughed at that last statement, all but Kandace and Terry. Khloé sat quietly but her anger didn’t go unnoticed. Her sister patted her leg, silently letting her know she was supporting her. Khloés jaw clenched as she felt herself beginning to tear up but she didn’t want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing that after all of these years, the things she said still got to her. 

“I think she has plenty of time to experience those things. I mean we only get one time to live a life we truly love, I believe moving at your own pace is important. Rushing into things never really works out anyway, most things are worth waiting for.” Terry stated as respectfully as he could. 

Her mother looked over at him, a small smirk spreading across her face. She nodded, raising a shady brow as she finished her champagne. 

“Well said son.” Mr. MacArthur nodded. 

A smirk crept onto Khloés face as she noticed her mothers silence. There was rarely ever a time where she didn’t have a rebuttal for someone who didn’t agree with her. Khloé looked over at Terry as he dug into his plate nonchalantly. Her admiration for him was growing greater as the days went by. 

His ability to shut her mother down respectfully and gracefully had her wanting to pull him away from the table and into the powder room down the hall, fuck a punishment. 

“Keep him.” Kandace whispered into her ear causing Khloé to look at her. Kandace gave her a ‘bitch you better’ look while taking a sip of her wine. 

The family conversation continued with Khloé no longer being the topic of the table. The small group wined and dined as they shared personal stories, experiences and laughs amongst each other. 

Terry reached into his pocket to grab his cell phone that was vibrating. It was a message from Summer. Khloé couldn’t help but to look down at his phone. She only saw a glimpse of the name before looking away, hoping Terry didn’t see her looking. She stared down at her plate as her mind began to fill with thoughts… again.

‘She’s like family.’ 

‘I just wanted to return the favor.’ 

“Well that was delicious.” Mr. MacArthur stated loudly, snapping Khloé out of her mind. “Terrance, come. I want to show you my latest purchase, a 1967 Convertible Mustang. I’m sure you know a lot about cars, don't you son?” He smiled and nodded before getting up from the table. 

“Oh yes sir.” Terry answered. “It’s okay if I leave you here with your sister right?” He turned to her wanting to get the okay to step away from her. 

Khloé nodded, giving him an artificial smile. With that, Terry stepped away from the table and followed her father down a long hallway to their six door garage. Mrs. MacArthur sat silently as she had been watching the whole thing play out. 

“Gosh, that food was delicious.” Khloé said, opening the door to her old bedroom. It was still decorated from when she was a teenager. Mindless Behavior posters, Bratz dolls and her old Nintendo DS that still worked if she could find the charger to it. 

“Girl forget about that food, tell me about that snack you got downstairs! “Kandace said, following right behind her. “So spill it, where the hell did you meet a man like that?” Kandace took a seat on Khloés childhood bed.

Khloé paused for a while before answering her sister. She wanted to give her the same bullshit story she’d given everyone else about Terry but she couldn’t. Her sister was her rock and no matter how big of a lie she told, Kandace always saw through it. 

“Kandace, I’m a bit embarrassed but I don’t want to lie to you.” Khloé started, taking a seat at her small vanity covered in stickers. “He’s a worker.” 

Kandace’s eyebrows bent in confusion. “What do you mean by worker?” 

“He works at one of the warehouses in the rural area, just off the freeway. I was visiting a while ago, doing my usual “check ups” and I saw him.” Khloé was so ashamed. 

“Okay so what’s wrong with that? You fell in love with a regular guy, that’s better than those attention junkies you used to date.” 

Khloé braced herself for the harsh truth she was about to reveal. “He’s not really my boyfriend. I’m paying him to be here with me.” 

Kandace sat up straight and stared at her baby sister, her mouth slightly open. She stared at her sister for a while, completely confused as to what she was doing and why. 

“Why are you paying him?” 

“Because I can’t keep a man to save my life.” Khloé leaned against the vanity with her head in her hands. “The last thing I wanted to hear from mom and dad was how I was gonna end up all alone and miserable. I just wanted them to lay off of me for once.” 

“Khloé.” Kandace spoke softly, inching closer to her sister. “Why do you let what they say get to you so easily? Who cares what they think about your love life?” 

“I do.” Khloé shot back, meeting her sister's eyes. “Look how long they’ve been together, all of the things they’ve accomplished together.” 

“They are not the couple you wanna model your relationship after.” Kandace mumbled. 

“Knock Knock!” A high pitched voice sang out, interrupting their conversation. The strong smell of cheap perfume took over the room as Khloé realized exactly who had entered her bedroom. 

“Nia, where have you been? How are you?” Kandace smiled, getting up to hug her. They embraced each other, pulling away to look each other up and down, taking note of their outfits. 

“I’ve just been in the wind as usual. I’m doing good girl but how are you? You’ve been traveling the world so much we barely get to see you anymore.” Nia stated. 

Khloé rolled her eyes as she tried to get herself together. Aside from her mother being one person she didn’t wanna let see her sweat, Nia was second on that list. She cleared her throat as she turned around to face her cousin. 

“Khloé girl, I saw that man of yours downstairs.” Nia stated, with a raised brow. “You’ve got him trained, he barely said two words to me.” 

“Well he wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Nia or ‘Imani’.” Khloé spat bluntly. 

Nia paused before letting out an obnoxious laugh, grabbing her stomach as if what Khloé had said was the joke of the day. 

“Oh girl you need to lighten up, I was just playing a little joke on him that’s all.” Nia rolled her eyes. “I mean he’s gonna be family eventually, he’ll get used to my humor.” 

Kandace looked back and forth between the two women as she could obviously sense her sister's irritation. Nia was exactly who Khloé said she was, a sneaky bitch. However Kandace, being almost 10 years older than the two girls, never witnessed any of Nia’s conniving ways. But Kandace also wasn’t that damn stupid. 

“You introduced yourself to him as Imani?” Kandace questioned. “Nobody calls you that.” She chuckled at the thought of it. 

“Well maybe I want to start being addressed as Imani, is that a problem for y’all?” Nia shot back in defense before turning her attention to the window. 

Kandace looked over at Khloé who was burning a hole into the back of Nia’s head. 

“Doesn’t matter anyways, he won’t be here long.” Nia mumbled to herself. 

“What was that?” Khloé asked, leaning her body forward so that she could hear Nia a bit clearer. 

“I’m going downstairs to get some food.” Nia headed toward the bedroom door. “It was really good seeing you Kandy girl and you too… Khlo.” 

Nia exited the room and Khloé immediately shot up from her seat. She paced around the room as she tried calming herself down, looking at her sister with wide eyes. 

“I told you that bitch was trifling but nobody wants to listen to Khloé, the spoiled brat who thinks everybody’s out to get her.” Khloé said, walking back and forth. 

“She was usually a sweetheart around everyone else, I thought you were just jealous of the attention she got.” That last part earned her a dirty look from Khloé. “My bad, you were right I guess.” Kandace admitted, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

“Fuck her though, the real problem I’m having is this Summer girl.” 

“I’m listening.” 

Khloé vented to her sister, telling her all about how she found out about Summer. She told her who Summer was to Terry and how even though she knew nothing was going on between the two of them, she still wanted her out of the picture. 

“You’re sounding a bit insecure Khloé.” Kandace had to admit it. 

“I know but I don’t care. I want him all to myself!” 

Kandace leaned back in shock at the words she just heard from her sister. “Wait, you actually like this guy and if that’s the case, why do you need to pay him?” Kandace whispered, keeping in mind that anyone could enter the room at any moment. 

“At first it was just supposed to be sex, nothing serious.” Kandace already knew about her sister's sexual desires, this revelation was nothing new to her. “But then after a few glasses of wine we started talking and I told him things I hadn’t shared with anyone but you.” Khloé walked over to sit next to her sister on the full size bed. 

“He was so interested to hear what I had to say, he was so patient with me. I talked his ear off for hours, he never interrupted me one time. I just feel so comfortable with him. Even my sexual appetite doesn’t bother him.” Khloé kept her voice low and looked over at her sister. “I just don’t know if I’ll ever meet someone like him again. I don’t know if this will last for a long time but I want it for right now, while it feels good.” 

“Well do you think maybe it’s because he’s getting paid to do those things?” Kandace had to keep her sister grounding in reality. 

“He kept asking to hear more though. Every time I apologized for rambling too much, he’d remind me that I didn’t have to.” Khloé stated. “The deal was to attend things with me and sex whenever and however I choose.” 

“But he’s been doing way more than that.” Kandace added, finished her thought for her. 

Khloé nodded. “And with Summer always grabbing his attention, I’m afraid that once this is all over, it’ll be over permanently.” 

Kandace sighed loudly. “So this Summer girl is your only problem?”

“Yes.” 

“Then get rid of her.” The infamous deep voice spoke from the doorway. 

Khloé and Kandace looked up to see Mrs. MacArthur standing there, her fingers interlocked resting at her waist. She stood there with a sharp brow raised high. Khloé was silently praying her mother hadn’t heard their entire conversation. From the look of her face, it didn’t seem as if she had. 

“If this woman is causing a riff in your relationship with Terrance, get rid of her.” Mrs. MacArthur stepped into the room, slowly making her way to the chair that sat in the far corner. “It’s the same woman who called his phone earlier right?” 

Khloé stared at her mom, wondering how in the hell she knew that. Always under her constant observation but never actually being acknowledged in totality. 

“You want her gone, do it yourself.”

“She’s a good friend to him, I can’t just ruin their friendship.” Khloé responded. 

“Then you will lose him to someone less deserving.” Mrs. MacArthur uttered those words. Those same words that haunted her every time she was next to Terry. 

“That’s ridiculous.” Kandace scoffed. 

“Do you love him?” Her mother asked, ignoring Kandace’s remark. 

“No but I do like him a lot.” 

“And do you think you’ll ever get the chance to love him if this friend is always in the picture?” 

Khloé sat silently. She didn’t know what to do. She was completely aware of her own inner turmoil and didn’t want it to control her behavior. But would she ever get the chance to love him if she didn’t have his undivided attention? Would he actually even consider being serious with her? 

“I don’t know.” Khloé answered herself and her mother. 

“Get. Rid. Of. Her.” 

“I know you’re not about to sit here and listen to this bullshit advice Khloé.” Kandace finally spoke up, bothered by the things she was hearing. 

“And what do you suggest Kandace?” Mrs. MacArthur asked playfully, not taking her seriously in the slightest. “Should she hop on a plane and go overseas to find love?” 

“You know what-“ 

“Can y’all not do this right now?” Khloé yelled. 

The room fell silent as the three women exchanged looks. Mrs. MacArthur sat unbothered as she eyed Kandace. Kandace stared back at her, not hiding the disdain for her whatsoever. She repeated herself once again hoping Khloé would get the picture and remove all distractions from Terry’s life. 

“Get rid of her.” 

“I’m sure you could teach a masterclass on getting rid of women can’t you?” Kandace spat, never breaking their stare down. 

Mrs. MacArthur cleared her throat and stood from the chair, smoothing her dress down. 

“You’ll thank me later dear.” Those were the last words she offered her daughter before leaving the room to return to her guests downstairs. 

Khloé looked over at Kandace with a look of frustration. 

“Why do y’all hate each other so much?” Khloé asked. 

“I don’t want her ways to take hold of you.” Kandace shot back. “You cannot make the same decisions she makes, take the type of advice she’s giving and expect a happy ending Khloé.” 

Kandace stood from the bed and exited the room, leaving Khloé there with her thoughts. They were racing a mile a minute. Fear, doubt and the possibility of being lonely forever was consuming her, making her head spend in more ways than one. 

It was like the devil was on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One side being her mother, the other being her sister. It felt as if she was being tugged in both directions, she just wanted to stop thinking so much. 

“Your sister said you were up here, is everything okay?” She snapped her head in Terry’s direction. “Your mind has been elsewhere all day, what’s going on?” Terry stepped into the room, stopping a few feet away from her. 

Khloé stared at him as the thoughts slowly began to drift away. He tilted his head slightly, trying hard to read the expression on her face. She just blankly stared at him, not saying anything. Finally given an opportunity to take her mind off of this mess she was creating for herself, she stood and walked past Terry, pushing the bedroom door closed and locking it. 

“Fuck me.” Khloé stated before snatching off her top and walking him backwards until he fell against the bed. 

“In your parents house?” Terry looked up at her, a shocked expression on his face. 

“Yes!” 

The public library was silent, only the sounds of soft keyboards and papers being turned filled the room. Khloé searched around the open floor, desperately looking from aisle to aisle. 

The guests sat faces buried into their laptops and library books. Khloé continued walking up slowly, her black blazer hanging off of her shoulders as she held onto her bag tightly. 

“Hello ma’am, are you looking for something in particular?” The familiar voice spoke from behind her and she slowly turned around to come face to face with her. 

“Summer right?” Khloé asked, a smile spreading across her face. 

“Yeah… wait you’re Terry’s boss.” Summer stated, pointing a knowing finger at her. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s just fine. I actually came to speak with you if that’s okay.” Khloé whispered. 

“Sure, I’m just about to take a break, we can step right outside.” Summer offered, leading the way to the large double doors that sat at the front of the building. 

They both took a seat on the large bench that sat a few feet away from the entrance. Khloé sat one leg crossed over the other as Summer stared at her. 

“So Summer, I’m sure you aren’t aware of this but Terry’s been having a lot on his plate lately.” Khloé lied.

Summer sat quietly unaware of what Khloé was referring to. 

“With him having to take on this new job, losing all of his savings, he came to me looking for help and so I helped him. But one thing led to another and we ended up spending a lot of time together.” 

“Wait, y’all are seeing each other?” Summer asked, frowning at the revelation. 

“Yes.” 

Summer looked down at her feet and then back up at Khloé. 

“It was supposed to be a secret of ours, no one knows. However, it’s just so hard to sit back and watch him stress due to your constant need for his assistance.” Khloé went on. “He’s not going to tell you this because he’s just a sweetheart and he tries to help as much as he can but I’d really appreciate it if you did me a favor and maybe step back from him for a while. I’m sure he’d appreciate it as well.” Khloé placed a soft hand on Summers' forearm. 

“Why would he have you come and tell me that?” Summer tilted her head slightly. “No disrespect to you um…” She trailed off 

“Khloé.” 

“Khloe.” Summer finished the statement. “Terry and I have seen a lot and been through a lot together. He could’ve just come to me himself and again no disrespect to you but I’ve never heard of you. He hasn’t told me anything about you.” Summer added. “So why should I do you a favor?” 

Khloé smiled softly before delivering the blow. “Who do you think sent you that check in the mail?” 

Summer's face dropped. Khloé smiled to herself, the conversation was going just as she planned. 

“He told me about your situation with your daughter.” Khloé admitted with a remorseful look. “I know that’s tough for you but it’s also taking a toll on him. I know you’re a good friend, he tells me this all the time so I'm sure you’ll understand that he just needs some space from you right now.” 

“He told you about my daughter?” Summer questioned, hurt from hearing that her good friend had revealed a very personal thing to a stranger. Summer was under the impression that Khloé knew about her addictions and her struggle with gaining custody. 

But Khloé was insinuating that he had told her more on purpose. The truth was she didn’t know much about Summer or her daughter, only that they needed help and Terry wanted to help them. But the look on Summers face told Khloé everything she was saying was sinking in exactly how she intended it to. 

“Look Summer, I care about him a lot and I’m sure you do too so the less stress on him the better, yeah?” 

Summer sat silently taking in all of what she had just heard. She stared down at the ground, not bothering to look up at Khloé. It was hard for her to hear that essentially she had been a burden to Terry. He had never made her feel this way but to hear this information coming from Khloé was devastating to her. 

“Yeah I guess so.” She responded, voice low. 

“I’m glad you understand.” Khloé smiled. “It’s just for a little while, until he’s able to clear his mind.” 

Khloé stood and placed her sunglasses on her face. Summer remained seated on the bench, her gaze stuck on the ground. 

“I wish the best for you and your daughter Summer.” Those were the last words Khloé said before strutting away to her car. 

A small wave of guilt washed over her body before quickly dissolving. It wasn’t like she was telling Summer to stop talking to him all together. She just needed more time to secure a real relationship with Terry. Summer would understand this in the future. 

Khloé took her phone out of her purse and dialed the number she had learned by heart within just a few days of having it. 

“Hey you, I was thinking I could do pasta tonight.” She smiled. “A friend of my mothers gifted me a bottle of white wine, I think it’ll pair well for the evening, what do you think?” 

“I think it sounds good.” Terry responded. “I take it you’re not mad at me anymore.” 

“Not at all Mr. Richmond.” 

to be continued… 

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me

————————————————————————-

summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.

warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.

The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.

When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.

Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.

Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.

As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.

“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe

“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you

He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.

“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled

“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you

Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.

“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe

Let the prank begin.

In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.

When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.

I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.

But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.

“Bye Joe.” - you

I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.

Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.

“I love you.” - Joe

“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled

The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you

He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.

“Okay, just checking.” - Joe

Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you

Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.

“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe

“No. Joe are you okay?” - you

He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.

“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe

“About what?” - you

I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.

You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?

“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe

“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you

“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe

“Why?” - you chuckled

Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.

“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe

“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you

“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe

“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you

He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.

“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe

Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.

“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you

His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.

“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?

“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you

“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet

There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.

“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe

“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you

Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.

“Love you.” - Joe smiled

“Thanks.” - you

“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe

“Say what back?” - you

“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe

“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you

Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.

“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe

Oh shit.

The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.

“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe

I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.

“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you

He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.

“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you

I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.

“Say it.” - Joe

“Say wha-” - you

“Say it.” - Joe looked at you

I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.

“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smirked

“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed

We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you

Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe

I smiled and came up with a quick response.

“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch

“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe

He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.

I really loved Joe with my whole heart.

[natswife-marvelicious]

Adopted

Plot: You're the adoptive child of Scarlett Johansson. When you're getting older Scarlett gets a baby naturally and treats you differently. You start to feel neglected and as if Scarlett doesn't want you anymore now that she has "a real baby". After asking her about it, you get into a heated argument, which turns into you running away at night.

Warnings: argument, feeling neglected, running away

Word count: 1,5k

Masterlist

You grew up in a home filled with love, laughter, and the warm glow of Scarlett Johansson’s presence. She had fought through years of disappointment, believing she would never have a child of her own, before finally deciding to adopt. The moment she found you in that small orphanage, she knew you were meant to be her child. From that day on, you were her everything.

As a child, you experienced a world that was rich with imagination and adventure, shaped by Scarlett's creative spirit. She took you on trips, introduced you to art, and shared her life with you in a way that made you feel cherished. She would read to you at night, her soothing voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket, making you feel safe and loved. You were the light of her life, the joy she had longed for.

However, as you entered your teenage years, everything began to change. The whispers of your mother’s past heartaches grew quieter, replaced by the sound of something new. Scarlett, after much thought and deliberation, discovered she was pregnant. It was a surprise, a joyful one, but also one that changed everything.

When the baby arrived, the house became a flurry of activity. Suddenly, you found yourself in the shadows of a new life that seemed to take precedence over your own. Scarlett's attention, which once felt infinite, became scattered. She was often exhausted, focused on the needs of the newborn, and your pleas for time together were met with tired smiles and half-hearted promises.

You watched as Scarlett glowed with excitement, sharing the news of the baby with everyone, her friends showering her with gifts and compliments. You felt a mix of happiness for her and a deepening sense of neglect. She would often spend hours with the baby, cooing and comforting her, while you sat on the sidelines, feeling more like an intruder in your own home.

Weeks turned into months, and the more you watched Scarlett dote on her new baby, the more invisible you felt. The love that had once enveloped you felt distant, and you began to convince yourself that Scarlett no longer wanted you, that you were no longer her real child. The words “You have a real baby now” echoed in your mind, each repetition deepening your feelings of neglect and heartbreak.

One evening, after another frustrating day, you decided to confront Scarlett. As you watched her hold the baby in her arms, the joy on her face felt like a dagger to your heart. “Can we talk?” you asked softly, trying to mask the hurt in your voice.

Scarlett looked up, distracted by the baby’s soft coos. “Not right now, honey. I really need to take care of your sister.”

Your heart sank, frustration bubbling over. “It’s always about her! I’m right here, and you don’t even notice me anymore!”

Scarlett turned, surprise written across her face. “That’s not fair, y/n! I’m trying to manage everything, and it’s a lot. I still love you, but things are different now!”

“Different? You mean you’ve replaced me!” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. “I’m not even your real child anymore, am I?”

Scarlett’s face hardened at your accusation, anger flaring. “Don’t say that! You’re my daughter! But you have to understand that having a baby is a big change. It’s not easy for me, either.”

You felt your heart shatter, and in that moment, everything you had held inside exploded. “You don’t get it! I feel like I’m invisible to you now! I just want my mom back!”

The argument escalated, both of you lashing out in hurt and anger, words exchanged that cut deeper than either of you intended. In a moment of frustration, Scarlett said something she would soon regret. “Sometimes I wish things could go back to the way they were before!”

Those words struck like a lightning bolt, and in that instant, you felt utterly shattered. The fight had gone too far, and feeling completely defeated, you turned and ran. You stormed out of the house into the dark night, the cool air biting against your skin as you fled from the pain.

You ran through the streets, your heart racing, not knowing where to go. All you could feel was the sting of betrayal and the overwhelming weight of rejection. After wandering for what felt like hours, you found a small park and collapsed onto a bench, sobs wracking your body. You hugged your knees to your chest, feeling utterly alone, the weight of your mother’s words heavy on your heart.

Meanwhile, back at home, Scarlett was left in shock. Realizing what had just happened, her heart dropped as panic set in. She rushed to your room, her stomach twisting with dread when she found it empty. The realization that you were gone hit her like a wave, and she desperately began searching every corner of the house, calling out your name.

“Y/n! Where are you?” she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty halls. The sound of the baby’s cries barely registered as she rushed outside, searching the yard and the surrounding neighborhood.

Scarlett’s heart raced with fear, imagining all the things that could go wrong. What if you were hurt? What if you were lost? Every moment stretched into an eternity, filled with regret for the hurtful things she had said. She wished she could take back those words, but the damage was done.

As the hours passed and the sun began to set, the air grew colder, and panic gripped her heart. She searched every nearby park, every friend’s house, and even called the police for help, but there was no sign of you. The weight of guilt pressed down on her chest, and she felt like she was losing the most precious part of her life.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, her phone buzzed with a message from a friend who lived nearby, offering to help look for you. But before she could respond, she heard a soft knock at the door. Hope ignited in her chest, and she rushed to answer it.

There you stood, disheveled and teary-eyed, the fight still evident on your face but softened by the vulnerability of the moment. Scarlett’s heart sank as she took in your expression, realizing just how hurt you truly were.

“Oh, y/n,” she breathed, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “I was so worried. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you. You’re my daughter, always. Please, come inside.”

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of the argument still fresh in your mind, but the sight of your mother’s anguish softened your heart. “You really mean it?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Scarlett nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “You are my first baby. Nothing will ever change that. I’m so sorry for making you feel unloved. It was never about you. I was just scared and overwhelmed.”

As the weight of her words washed over you, the tension in your chest began to ease. You stepped forward, collapsing into her arms, the warmth of her embrace reminding you of the love you once felt. “I’m sorry for running away,” you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

“I’m just glad you’re home,” Scarlett replied, holding you tightly. “Let’s talk about everything, and I promise to do better. You’ll always be my first love.”

As you stood together in the doorway, the night air cool against your skin, you could feel the heaviness begin to lift. With each word exchanged, you slowly rebuilt the bridge that had momentarily crumbled. It wasn’t just about being a sister now; it was about embracing the love that had always been there, even when it felt hidden beneath the surface.

In the days that followed, Scarlett made a conscious effort to balance her time. Sunday became your sacred day, a time filled with laughter, stories, and love. You painted together, watched movies, and even built forts in the living room. Slowly, you began to feel whole again, the bond you shared rekindling.

Scarlett learned to include you in the little things that mattered, inviting you to help with the baby. You would sit beside her as she fed your sister, feeling a sense of pride in your new role. With time, you discovered that having a sibling wasn’t about losing Scarlett’s love but expanding your family in a way you had never imagined.

Through the darkness, you found your way back into the light, proving that even in the toughest times, love could triumph. Scarlett and you became stronger together, the bond between mother and daughter deepening. You realized that love was not a finite resource; it could grow and adapt, wrapping around you both in a warm embrace.

In the end, you learned that while change could be difficult, it also brought new beginnings. The relationship with Scarlett blossomed, filled with open communication, understanding, and an unbreakable bond that would carry you both through whatever life threw your way. Together, you embraced the chaos of family life, finding joy in the laughter and love that surrounded you, proving that no matter the trials, you were always meant to be together.

Second Scarly Oneshot. This is a little shorter than the others.. hope you like it as well tho. Seeee yaaa

[haikyu-mp4]

When in Rome

word count; 2392 – f!reader

Moving to Italy as a young adult to work as an au pair through a shady website wasn’t the most reckless thing anyone your age ever did. However, you hadn’t counted on the job being a complete lie and ending up stranded at the airport with nowhere to go.

You strolled over to the large notice board by the taxi section where people promoted anything the tourists might not want to miss. Your eyes skimmed over a few places to eat and cheap Airbnbs, and you sighed loudly until your eyes zeroed in on a laminated note.

‘Professional athlete needs an in-house cleaner and language teacher’ it said in Italian, and you had never been so thankful for taking all those language courses prior to this.

Hurriedly, you called the number and were greeted by an older man’s voice claiming to be a manager for Ali Roma, whatever that meant. You claimed to have experience in anything he asked and responded just quickly enough in Italian that you got the job.

By the time evening rolled around, you were sitting by the wall and leaning on your suitcase. The manager needed time to produce a contract and send it to your e-mail. Thank goodness for airport wifi. You had the contract open on your phone and quickly skimmed through it until you found the section where you would be living in an adjacent apartment by his house, before immediately completing the e-signature.

When you got there for the first time, that manager had been waiting in your new apartment to greet you and go over some details, also making sure you were who you said you were and then introducing you to Kageyama Tobio.

He was interesting, that Kageyama. Not as old as you might have imagined, and ridiculously handsome. Seemingly shy but not against having company. Kind but very direct.

It had been a long day of cleaning, which was the kind of manual labour your body wasn’t so used to performing yet. Finally off work for the day, you were singing to yourself over the stove, trying to read something off a food label when a dark head of hair appeared in your peripheral vision. Jumping in surprise, you held up the pasta packet as if to throw it, only to see Kageyama’s upper body leaning into the doorway with a curious wiggle of his nose. “Kageyama, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” The sauce was still cooking as you had forgotten to put on the pasta for boiling, so it would have to simmer for longer, but the smell must have wafted far enough to draw him in. “Did you make that?”

You proudly flourished your hands over the food. “I sure did,” you picked up some sauce on a spoon, holding it up for him with a hand underneath. “Wanna taste?”

The two of you spoke to each other slowly in Italian, adding some English words here and there. “Yes,” he confirmed, coming into the kitchen and walking straight over to you. You expected him to take the spoon from you, but your ears burned red as he leaned in close and ate the sauce right off the spoon. He seemed to consider the taste while all you could do was try to stay focused with him so close. Finally, he nodded and looked at you. “It’s really good, can I have some too?”

Luckily you had made a lot, intending to save some portions for later, so you spent the evening eating with Tobio – he insisted you call him Tobio – in the setting Italy sun.

Tobio had a lot of practices and seemed to stay longer than planned almost every time, so you would typically have a cup of tea and lounge on his couch, which was much more lavish than yours until you heard the door unlock. The general idea was for you to clean while he was out, so when he stayed longer than what it said in the schedule, you happily enjoyed the quiet luxury of his living room or the heat of Italy from his balcony after finishing the obligatory work. Then when he got home, you would often make dinner, which was not part of the original plan but naturally became part of the routine.

He was funny, in his own way, and the way you both laughed so quietly sat well with you as the sound of the busy city flowed through the open windows in the background.

Over the first weekend, you had done your best to prepare some learning materials that would suit his level, and you two would mostly use conversing as a way of learning, spending a few hours every Saturday. Whenever he hit a word he didn’t know in Italian, he would awkwardly move his hands in the air and look at you for help.

And sometimes, you weren’t sure either. “Oh… I don’t know that, actually,” you admitted, feeling your ears burn red as he was still staring at you expectantly. You chuckled under your breath to relieve the tension and opened up your computer to look it up. When you finally found it, you looked up, only to realise he had scooted closer on the couch to look at the screen too, not noticing how you took in a sharp breath of air at how your arms brushed against each other.

He nodded, seemingly happy with the answer as he tried to say it out loud. “Chiacchierare.”

You repeated it back to him with emphasis on where he struggled with pronouncing it. “Chiacchierare.”

And when you focused back on his face, he was staring at your lips, probably because you were teaching him pronunciation, but it still made you feel flustered. He repeated the word more properly, until he looked back up at your eyes, expectantly again.

“That was… good.” You cleared your throat and glanced at the wall clock before turning back to him. “Did you already go for your jog today?”

Tobio looked at his wristwatch and seemed to frown. “I would rather go later, it’s still pretty hot outside,” he said, getting up and walking into his kitchen now that it seemed you wanted a break. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water, please!” You started packing up the teaching materials you always had lying around for the basic rules when Tobio came back in with two tall glasses of ice water.

“We’re done for the day?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat at the disappointed look he wore.

“I just thought…” You drifted off because you weren’t sure what you thought. He just looked so ridiculously handsome in his leisure wear, and when he scooted closer, he smelled so good, and…

“Maybe we can do something else?” he asked, putting the glasses down without any coasters, so you added one underneath each glass. “Like go swimming?”

Tobio started asking you to do more things with him that couldn’t be considered something you weaved into the routine of your job. They were more like… dates. He would take you mini golfing, hiking or to a volleyball court, and then always buy you dinner wherever you wanted to try eating next. Whether it was some exclusive local restaurant or in the next town over, he would get you there.

Obviously, you knew what this might look like, what it might be becoming, but bringing it up brought on the risk of bursting the bubble. You were still keeping up with all the work they expected from you, and your time together never affected his practices or other work routines.

You fell in love with Kageyama Tobio and he fell in love with you.

A right person, right time kind of love.

It was the most casual evening you finally gave in to it. You were in your own kitchen, once again humming under your breath as you cooked, Italian tunes playing from the radio.

The sunshine came through the windows and lit up the room, alerting you when Kageyama’s shadow crept in. “Hello, there.” You looked up at him and smiled softly, stirring the pasta sauce that had a much better recipe now than it did when you first arrived. Speaking with the locals and making friends outside of work hadn’t been easy, but you got there.

“Hi.” He walked closer until he stood arm to arm with you, picking up the ladle to unnecessarily stir the pasta while you worked the sauce. His hair was damp, telling you he just got out of the shower after practice. “How was your day?”

“Very relaxing, video called my parents and went to the old neighbour for lunch,” you recalled. “She told me to bring you next time, said it’s been too long.” You bumped him with your elbow and he smiled, doing the same back. He didn’t need to know said neighbour referred to Tobio as your partner. “And you? How was practice?”

You couldn’t help but glance at him when he pouted. “It was fine, but I had some trouble with my serves.”

“Serves?” you repeated. “Were you trying something new?”

“Not really, just… had my mind on something else, I suppose.”

You hummed in understanding, then the Italian tunes took over the aura again as you finished the food, putting both the pot and pan on the cold parts of the stovetop.

You both slowed to a stop and seemed to be waiting for the other to choose your next move. In the end, you would never be able to tell anyone the answer to who moved first, because it only took a second for the two of you to be devouring each other.

Tobio had one hand on the back of your head, the other hand splayed across the middle of your back to pull you closer. Your arms clung to his shoulders to make sure he was actually there with you.

Your lips moved in perfect sync, and then either of you interrupted the flow with a different tangent in irregular intervals before naturally syncing back into each other’s pace.

By the time you two snuck back out of the bedroom that night, the pasta was cold, and he kissed you against the kitchen counter as it heated back up.

This routine you had been trying to piece together eventually blurred into your day-to-day life. Tobio would go to practice when he needed to, and on the days he stayed late, you were sometimes already snoring away in his bed, or sometimes waiting for him with a cup of tea by the time he returned. While he was out, you always cleaned the house, enjoying how it visibly turned into a home for two. Your clothes from yesterday needed to be thrown into the laundry because Tobio had made quick work of them before bed and his finished protein cup was left on the table in the dining room because he didn’t have time for everything in the morning. Every little thing made you smile.

You two eventually spoke almost exclusively in Italian, leaning affectionately on each other while searching up any words you didn’t remember. The neighbours loved you, and you even hosted a dinner for some of the local couples you spent time with.

“Y/n?” you heard called from the hallway. You sat on the sofa with Tobio’s iPad and browsed open positions in the area or online. Even though Tobio said you didn’t need to work to be with him, you wanted something to give your life some extra colour. Something like working with children or teaching language to people of all ages interested you greatly.

“Tobi?” you responded, lifting one arm to let him settle his head in your lap, letting your arm fall back over him while still scrolling.

“Let it go for today. We still haven’t talked to my manager about ending the contract,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to rest. He had early practice today, which left him plenty of quality time that you should be spending on giving him your attention!

You chuckled airily. “Did you do well at practice today?”

“Very well,” he confirmed, giving you that stiff smile that made you laugh more and think of the high school photos he had shown you before. “Hinata will be here in a week, we should settle everything with my manager by then so I don’t have to explain it to him. He’s not very smart.”

As your fingers stroked through his hair, you put the iPad to the side after locking it. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” you said. “For now-“ Tobio opened one eye to watch you, finding a coy smile. “Tell me what you’ll introduce me to Hinata as.”

He wasn’t sure how to take your tone. Was this relaxed attitude real or were you just waiting for him to say the wrong answer? “You’re my- Uhh… I can’t say girlfriend?” he asked and felt some relief at how a bigger smile stretched across your face. Then you leaned over to squish his face and push your lips against his in several small but loving kisses.

“Of course you can!”

“Tobio?” you yelled when you walked out of the kitchen to greet him at the door. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another ten minutes according to his last message, so you were curious about who else would just walk right in.

You stopped abruptly in the hallway as you saw his manager, staring at you with furrowed brows. You looked down at your bare legs and Kageyama’s hoodie, then back up in horror.

“I was going to ask if you know who Kageyama is seeing.” A silence fell over you where you did whatever you could to not meet his eyes. The heat crept up your neck and over your cheekbones. “But never mind!”

You would both later agree on ending the contract early, as Kageyama wouldn’t need your services anymore in the same way and you wouldn’t need to use the adjacent apartment.

Instead, he would save up some of that money he could have paid you with to buy you the kind of engagement ring that best suited your style.

Tobio wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were the right person, and it was the right time.

masterlist